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SPECIAL CHAPTER 4

作者: Eyah
last update 最終更新日: 2025-02-14 14:58:10

MARGARET'S P. O. V

The information arrived like a poisoned dart, precise and deadly. Isabella was scheduled to fly to a remote region in the north, leading a relief operation for victims of a recent typhoon. The details were scant, but enough to ignite the cold fire of my ambition. This was it, the opportunity I'd been waiting for, the perfect chance to finally take my plans to the next level. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat accompanying the chilling certainty that consumed me.

I paced my opulent apartment, the city lights a glittering backdrop to my dark thoughts. The phone call had been brief, anonymous, a whisper in the night. But the information it contained was a detonator, setting off a chain reaction within me. This wasn't just about acquiring Arnaldo; it was about eliminating the obstacle, removing Isabella from the equation. The thought sent a shiver of exhilaration down my spine, mingling with a chilling sense of dread.

The plan formed in my mind, swift
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  • To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss   SPECIAL CHAPTER 10

    MARGARET'S P. O. VThe funeral was a grotesque parody of mourning. I stood, impeccably dressed, a picture of serene composure amidst the displays of feigned grief. Arnaldo’s death had been swift, efficient, a mere footnote in my relentless pursuit of power. His vast fortune, now mine, was merely a stepping stone, a foundation upon which I would build my empire.The days that followed were a whirlwind of legal maneuvering, financial transactions, and ruthless consolidation of power. I moved swiftly, decisively, silencing any opposition with a mixture of charm and intimidation. Those who questioned my actions, those who dared to challenge my authority, found themselves swiftly and unceremoniously removed from the equation. Their fate served as a warning to others, a chilling reminder of the consequences of defiance.My daughter, Monica, reveled in our newfound power, her ambition mirroring my own. She was a loyal pawn, a ruthless instrument in my ascent, her eyes gleaming with the same

  • To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss   SPECIAL CHAPTER 9

    MARGARET'S P. O. VThe scent of lilies in my opulent bathroom did little to mask the stench of betrayal that clung to me. My reflection stared back, a stranger in a mask of composure. My new lover, Julian, was everything Arnaldo was not: young, vibrant, impossibly wealthy. Arnaldo, with his aging body and dwindling fortune, had become an anchor, a relic of a past I was eager to discard. He was nothing more than a means to an end, a stepping stone to a life of even greater luxury and power. And now, it was time for him to step aside.The plan was simple, yet elegant in its cruelty. A "car accident," staged with precision and discretion. It wouldn't be a blatant act of violence, nothing easily traceable back to me. Just a tragic mishap, a twist of fate. The perfect crime.Days bled into weeks, each moment a meticulous dance of preparation. I subtly shifted funds, creating a paper trail that pointed away from me, towards my old enemy, Niccolo Fibonacci, still languishing in prison. It wa

  • To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss   SPECIAL CHAPTER 8

    MARGARET'S P. O. VThe years that followed were a blur of opulence and carefully calculated risk. Arnaldo’s wealth had become our playground, a source of endless luxury and power. But it wasn't enough. The thrill of the game, the adrenaline rush of manipulating others, had become addictive. I craved more, something beyond the confines of our carefully constructed world. That's where the Fibonacci Mafia came in.They were a powerful organization, their tentacles reaching into every corner of the city's underbelly. I'd initially approached them cautiously, offering my services as a financial advisor, a seemingly innocuous role that allowed me to infiltrate their inner circle. My charm, my intelligence, my ruthless ambition quickly won their trust. I learned their secrets, their weaknesses, their intricate network of operations. I became an indispensable part of their operations, privy to their most sensitive information.But my ambition knew no bounds. I wasn't content to be merely a pl

  • To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss   SPECIAL CHAPTER 7

    MARGARET'S P. O. VThe wedding was a spectacle, a lavish affair that masked the cold calculation that had orchestrated it. Arnaldo, still bearing the scars of grief, looked like a man walking through a dream, his eyes holding a strange mixture of sorrow and something akin to… contentment. Contentment that I had carefully cultivated, nurtured, and manipulated. My own daughter, Monica, stood beside me, a picture of innocent obliviousness, unaware of the darkness that fueled our ascent.The mansion was opulent, even more so than I remembered. It was a gilded cage, a testament to Arnaldo's wealth, a prize I had finally claimed. I stood in the master bedroom, gazing out at the sprawling gardens, a triumphant smile playing on my lips. Isabella’s presence was completely erased, her belongings gone, her memory relegated to a distant, inconvenient past. This was my victory, my conquest, my reward for a meticulously planned campaign of manipulation and deceit.Arnaldo, now my husband, was a sha

  • To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss   SPECIAL CHAPTER 6

    MARGARET'S P. O. VThe polished mahogany of Arnaldo Sy’s office felt different this time, heavier, draped in a somber veil of grief. The air hung thick with unspoken sorrow, a stark contrast to the usual crisp efficiency that permeated the space. Arnaldo sat behind his large desk, his shoulders slumped, his face etched with a weariness that went beyond simple fatigue. He looked older, broken, the vibrant energy that had once characterized him extinguished, replaced by a hollow emptiness.I approached him slowly, my movements deliberate, my expression carefully crafted to convey sympathy and concern. The news of Isabella’s death had been plastered across every news outlet, a spectacle of tragedy that I had orchestrated with cold precision. Now, I would play the role of the sympathetic friend, the comforting presence in his time of need. My heart, however, felt strangely devoid of emotion, a cold, calculating engine driving my actions.“Arnaldo,” I said softly, my voice laced with a car

  • To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss   SPECIAL CHAPTER 5

    MARGARET'S P. O. VThe champagne was cold, the crystal flute elegant in my hand, but the celebratory mood felt hollow, a thin veneer over the churning anxiety within me. I sat alone in my opulent apartment, the city lights a blurred spectacle outside my window. The silence was deafening, a heavy blanket smothering the usual vibrant hum of the city. It was a silence pregnant with anticipation, a silence that screamed louder than any celebration.The news had been sparse, deliberately vague. A small chartered plane, en route to a remote region, had gone down. Details were scarce, the investigation ongoing. But I knew. I knew what had happened, what I had orchestrated. The weight of my actions pressed down on me, a crushing burden of guilt and exhilaration.My phone lay beside me, a cold, inert object. I longed for it to ring, to break the suffocating silence, to bring confirmation, to bring closure. But the silence persisted, stretching into an eternity of agonizing suspense. Each tick

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