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Chapter 7

Penulis: Poppy Pop
The Rossi council hall sat low on a North Chicago hill, all dark wood and cold authority.

A massive mahogany table split the room, black leather chairs lining both sides.

Portraits of old Dons stared down from the walls. Carlo's hung at the end—calm eyes, still owning the space.

That morning, the hall was packed. Senior capos, soldati, out-of-town reps from every major Family.

Enzo stood beside me, fingers steady on mine—quiet backup.

Right at nine, Salvatore pushed the doors open. Two soldati dragged in Giacomo, cuffed and looking wrecked. Hair wild, eyes hollow. The swagger? Gone. Just fear now. And spite in his eyes.

Zoya sat off to the side in the witness chair, pale as hell, fists clenched. She was one of our key witnesses.

"The tribunal starts now." Salvatore stood at the head of the table, voice rough but grounded. "Today we clear Don Carlo's name, settle blood debts, and bring honor back to this Family."

Giacomo jerked his head up, shouting, "I'm innocent! Outsiders too
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  • Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale   Chapter 7

    The Rossi council hall sat low on a North Chicago hill, all dark wood and cold authority.A massive mahogany table split the room, black leather chairs lining both sides.Portraits of old Dons stared down from the walls. Carlo's hung at the end—calm eyes, still owning the space.That morning, the hall was packed. Senior capos, soldati, out-of-town reps from every major Family.Enzo stood beside me, fingers steady on mine—quiet backup.Right at nine, Salvatore pushed the doors open. Two soldati dragged in Giacomo, cuffed and looking wrecked. Hair wild, eyes hollow. The swagger? Gone. Just fear now. And spite in his eyes.Zoya sat off to the side in the witness chair, pale as hell, fists clenched. She was one of our key witnesses."The tribunal starts now." Salvatore stood at the head of the table, voice rough but grounded. "Today we clear Don Carlo's name, settle blood debts, and bring honor back to this Family."Giacomo jerked his head up, shouting, "I'm innocent! Outsiders too

  • Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale   Chapter 6

    The Valentino Bar hugged a dead dock in South Chicago, neon bleeding red. Smelled like whiskey and cigars inside.I sat in a corner booth, thumb tracing my cold glass.Matteo Valentino leaned back across from me, cigar dangling from his fingers. Smoke curled around his eyes—sharp, locked in.Enzo had set this up. It was a key move against Giacomo."Jessica," Matteo said, flicking ash into his drink like it was nothing. "Enzo says you got dirt on Giacomo. Says you're callin' in that favor from ten years back." He paused. "I owed Carlo. But my Family don't do charity."I slid the brown envelope over. Inside—Salvatore's ledgers. Panama accounts. Courtesy of Zoya."The guns Giacomo sold you were thirty percent powder. Thirty. That shootout with the rival Family? Most of your guys got smoked 'cause the barrels kicked back. Right?"Matteo's face dropped. He flipped through the pages. Slower. Knuckles white. "I knew it. He blamed my men. Said we mishandled them.""There's more," I sai

  • Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale   Chapter 5

    The road through the north grove was tight, quiet. Tires crunched over dead branches in the dusk.I rolled the brass key Salvatore gave me—Carlo's old backdoor key. Guess he saw the danger coming.We stopped a hundred meters out. Enzo and I changed into blue maintenance uniforms, grabbed the toolbox, and walked up.The gate guard was smoking, leaning lazy against the post. He glanced at the fake work order, brow pinched."Pipes, huh? Stay outta the study.""Chill, Richie. We ain't here to snoop." Enzo tossed him a smoke.While Richie lit up, we slid inside.The smell hit first—old wood, dust, something sour. The phonograph was still in the corner. Dust thick on the carved banister. Seven years, and nothing had moved. Just felt hollow now."I got him. You take the study," Enzo said low, then took the stairs with the toolbox.I looped around. The study door hung half open, creaked when I pushed.Everything looked untouched—mahogany desk, shelves, fireplace. The mantel cover was

  • Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale   Chapter 4

    The bookstore sat jammed between two alleys, easy to miss.Perfect.I pushed inside. Salvatore was crouched behind a shelf, sorting books. He froze, eyes sharp—then saw me and eased up. He flicked a look at the door."Corleone got eyes on the alley?""Yeah. We're clean." I ran my fingers over dusty detective novels.Carlo loved this place. He'd come in for one book and stay an hour. Salvatore used to joke, "Don could stretch buying a book into half a day of auditing."Salvatore reached low and pulled out two beat-up hardcovers.[Rossi Family Financial Records]. No dates."I copied them," he said, low, shoving them at me. "After Giacomo took over, he locked the real books in his office. What he shows us is fake. This is real. Everything dirty he's done is in here."I opened the first ledger. Yellowed pages. Neat handwriting. Every entry dated and precise. On May 12, 2023, a red line jumped out:[Delivered 100 firearms to the Valentino Family. Received $2,000,000. Not recorded

  • Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale   Chapter 3

    The chandelier cut the room in half. Light on black suits. Sharp. Cold.Cigars burned thick. Champagne floated sour. Every Family stood tight, whispering deals that sounded like threats.Under Giacomo, the Rossi Family had been bleeding for two years. This summit was his play—alliances, territory, cleanup.What he didn't plan on was me walking in like this.Enzo's hand stayed firm on my waist. Grounded. Unmoving. He guided me forward.I wore a silver gown. It flashed when I moved. Black sash tight at my waist.The diamond on my left hand lit up the room.Our footsteps owned the ballroom.Talks cut off. Heads turned—shock, curiosity, caution.I looked at the Rossi table.Giacomo clocked me and broke inside. His grip on his wine glass tightened until his knuckles went white.Zoya sat up too straight. Eyes blown wide. Like she'd seen a ghost.Enzo guided me to the main table.He lifted his champagne, gave it a lazy swirl, then looked out at the room.He didn't raise his voic

  • Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale   Chapter 2

    The wind cut through my collar. Straight to the bone.I thought about that night. Seven years back.Third week married to Giacomo. He said he and Carlo were hitting the docks. "Family business."Then the gunshots came through the phone.My heart dropped. I didn't tell anyone. I just went."Giacomo!"I yelled it as I rounded the last container—then stopped cold.Carlo was on his knees. Back to me.His black coat was wrecked. Soaked through.Blood ran down the hem and bled into the concrete.And Giacomo—my husband—was standing there right in front of Carlo. Combat knife in his hand.I knew that knife.His favorite. He showed it off after the wedding. His name carved into the blade.That blade was buried in Carlo's chest."Carlo!"I screamed and lunged—then my arm got yanked back hard.Zoya.No panic. None.Just that cold look. Almost smug."Don't take another step, Jessica." Her voice was flat. "It won't do you any good."She had a folded paper in her left hand. Calm

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