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93 ~ A Wall of Conspiracy and Truth
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2025-06-03 06:11:31Brinda
“I’m back, but Brinda is not. And she will be the death of us. Everything we’ve built, everything we fought for… it’s crumbling. All because of her. She’s still hiding something… talk to her.”“See? You aren’t…”I stood in silence, watching Francesco try to calm Bullet down. She wouldn't stop… her words clawed at the air, slicing through what was left of the peace between us. Bullet was relentless, accusing me of harboring secrets.And the worst part? She wasn’t wrong.She was setting the stage to make Francesco question me. And from the way his expression darkened, it was working.There’s no point in shielding the truth anymore.The weight inside my chest grew heavier, my ribs straining to contain the secrets that had begun to rot inside me.I inhaled sharply. “Yes,” I said, my voice like a razor through silence. “There are secrets I’m keeping. Bullet isn’t lying.”Francesco’s lips parted. The air a
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The Mafia's Plaything: His To Ruin 100 ~ The Bloodbath II
“Fire!!!”Brinda’s voice cracked through the night like thunder, raw with rage and desperation. The violent staccato of gunfire followed instantly, bullets erupting into the air and slicing through the heavy silence like blades. Her men opened fire with fierce intensity, their rifles aimed at the black bulletproof car stationed ahead.Elizabeth flinched at the sound. “Move, damn you!” she hissed, slapping the back of her driver’s head. He didn’t respond. He didn’t even flinch. She reached forward again with trembling hands, only to find his body limp—eyes wide open, mouth ajar.He was gone. Dead.A cold shiver coursed through her spine, and she clenched her fists, jaw grinding. Before she could react, a second wave of gunfire cracked behind her—this time targeting Brinda’s men. Two of them dropped instantly, their bodies thudding against the pavement.Chaos ensued. Elizabeth’s loyal men emerged from the shadows with merciless precision, c
The Mafia's Plaything: His To Ruin 99 ~ The Bloodbath
Three Days Later…The thick tobacco scent lingered in the study room, curling in the air like silent ghosts of the fallen. Francesco stood by the window, the golden dusk light casting a glow on his hardened face. His arms were folded, his eyes pinned to the sprawling map laid out on the table—red marks scratched violently across it, like slashes to the throat of an empire.Across from him, Bullet hovered with tense shoulders and furrowed brows. “What do we do?” she asked, her voice clipped with concern. “Don’t you think we’ll need more men? Half of them didn’t return.”Francesco’s smirk appeared slow, deadly. Ideas were already forming in his mind, vicious and methodical.“If only Danger was still alive…” Bullet murmured, her tone softening. “He was a sweetheart. Loyal to the bone.”Francesco’s jaw tightened. “And that’s what makes this revenge necessary,” he said, voice low. “People died for me. For the family. Their souls will only rest
The Mafia's Plaything: His To Ruin 98 ~ Arrival of a Storm
“Why is he calling?” Elizabeth muttered, her breath catching in her throat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, anxiety clinging to her like a second skin.She ended the call with a swift tap, sliding toward the edge of the bed, every nerve in her body tightening.But then the phone vibrated again—violent, insistent, startling her.She considered switching it off. But no. That would only make him more persistent. And if Dominic found out… God, if Dominic even suspected…Sliding off the bed with barely contained panic, she padded quickly to the window. The night outside was still and deceptive. She pressed the phone to her ear and hissed, “Why the hell are you calling repeatedly? What if I get caught?”“Relax,” a voice replied—smooth, cool, and laced with amusement. “I’m bored. This place is dead, Elizabeth. I'm craving your presence. If I can’t buy time with your permission, maybe I can just drop in. Shall I?”Elizabeth’s breath hit
The Mafia's Plaything: His To Ruin 97 ~ Even In The Grave
“Are they all set?” Marshall asked coldly the moment he slid into the backseat of his blacked-out car.Scar glanced into the rearview mirror, his eyes unreadable behind dark shades. “Yes, Boss,” he said, then started the engine with a low, guttural growl.It had been weeks. And those weeks had stretched into a full month since Brinda and Francesco vanished from the world that once bowed before the Russo name. Vanished, like mist in the mountains—without a trace. Without a whisper.Behind closed doors, the remaining members of the Russo family—Dominic, Elizabeth, Marshall, and the infamous brothers, Tiger and Leopard—were orchestrating their next move with surgical precision. One final act. One grand strike. One bloody page in history.But beneath their rehearsed smiles and handshakes were silent games of betrayal. Each one plotting, quietly, to be the last name standing. The truth lingered like a hidden blade between them all: How long b
The Mafia's Plaything: His To Ruin 95 ~ You Shouldn't Have Done This, Brinda
Francesco“Brinda, you shouldn’t have done this. You shouldn’t have deceived me. Why?” My voice trembled, threatening to break, but I held it together with every fiber of restraint I had left. “Why have you done all these?”Before Brinda could respond, Bullet’s voice cracked through the tension like a lightning bolt. “Don, what are you doing? She’s told you everything she knows. Don’t make the mistake of killing her!”I didn’t turn to look at her. My gaze remained locked on Brinda. My hand gripped the gun tighter, arm extended and unwavering. “You haven’t answered my question.”Brinda’s expression didn’t flinch. Her eyes, glossy but stubborn, held mine like a mirror to my rage. “Are you going nuts, Francesco? Didn’t you hear me? I’ve told you everything. The truth. What else do you want from me? Should I kill myself to make you believe me?”Her voice—steady, firm—was a dagger to my chest.No remorse. None. Not even a flicker of
The Mafia's Plaything: His To Ruin 96 ~ We Have No Relationship Anymore!
Brinda“When I woke up, I didn’t find him in the room with me,” I said quietly, helping Valerie pick up a few items as she prepared breakfast.“But where could he have gone? I’m worried.” She faced me, stirring the food on the stove, worry etched in her features. “Richard left early to the farm. I can’t go over there to look for him.”“He couldn’t have gone far. He’ll be back.” I replied, my voice colder than I intended. I wasn’t sure why I sounded so unconcerned—maybe I just didn’t care anymore.“What? How can you be this unbothered? You woke up and didn’t find him, yet you—” She paused, and then it hit her. “Did you two have a fight?”“A fight? Why would we?” I tried to brush it off, but something was breaking inside me. “Maybe… maybe he went out to get me a surprise.” I smiled weakly, trying to mask the lie.“I’ll go to the farm to find Richard and ask him to look for Francesco,” Valerie said, almost washing her hands to leave.
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