All Chapters of The Mafia's Redemption : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Sarah“How long are we going to be in hiding?” I ask, sitting at the edge of the bed in the tiny rented room as Shawn stands all day at the window, looking out for God knows who.“Not for long. I just need to be sure....”“Sure about what? I'm getting sick of all these crap—”“Keep your voice down,” Shawn hurries back to me, using his palm as a bridle against my lips. “I'm doing my best to help us stay out of trouble here.”He forces me to sit on the bed, still preventing me from speaking.“Don't ruin my efforts.” And with a threatening long stare, he lets me go, heading back to the window. I get up immediately,“Where do you think you're going?”“Do I also need your permission to use the rest room?” I snap back rolling my eyes as I enter the bathroom. I wash my face in the running tap, trying to stay awake–Shawn's instruction wouldn't spare me a minute nap. There after, I reach for a band in my pocket. As I pull out a black band, a note drops on the wet floor.I quickly pick it up be

MarcoMy mind is begining to play tricks on me, as I shake myself out of the hallucination. Few moments ago, it felt like I saw her. I held her in my arms. My hallucinations is beginning to get the better of me.Sarah is dead and I'm here to hunt down one of her killers. I need to accept this soon enough. I need to move on.But, damn! Sarah. She didn't deserve any of it.I give up on trying to look for the lady that looked so much like her, heading back to the club house, only to find out that my prize had left. The other men were out there but Don Joe himself is missing. Fuck. I was careless again.I dash out of the building in search of his car. I can see the clean SUV parked at a corner. The same car he came in. Definitely, he's still around. Somewhere. Someone like Don Joe can never be seen on busy streets all alone.He probably just went into the restroom. Just before I turn around, a sharp drift comes from within. The same car is speeding off the premise. Something must be up a

MarcoThe room is stuffy and confined but I've to stay quiet as I pace around, my ears active as ever, waiting for the cops to leave. I check the time at intervals. I'm sure they are here to investigate a drug case. Man never gets old with his drug dealings. If only these damned cops know I'm about to do them a favor they wouldn't be in my way. I walk down to the window. It seems like a dusty room that hasn't been habited for a while as I glance at the grounds. A loud thud bring my attention back to the door. Someone is attempting to break in since I locked it from inside. Shit. I'm fucked.“Those doors are expensive. Tell your men to be gentle,” Don Joe warns. My mind is divided. I have the time to jump out the window and escape but I can't leave without fulfilling my mission. I've to hide. But where? “Get us the key to the room or we'll be forced to bring it down,” I heard one say while I scamper around for a good hiding spot.“No one uses the room. I'm sure the lock is bad as a r

MarcoIt's impossible. It's fucking impossible. This fucker named Betty is trying to mess with me. How the fuck did she get my line? How did she find me here?I don't feel easy. I met Betty two hours ago at the airport. She had bloodstains all over her. It's obvious she made some efforts to take them off and she looked helpless. On a normal ground I wouldn't give a second thought before ignoring her but those words, they ring in my head like the strike of tambourines in an empty hall.“Sarah is alive! She's in trouble as we speak here in America!” Those were her goddamn words immediately she crossed me at the airport.I tried to call her back, I tried to reach her. To confirm what I heard but she wouldn't pick up. Sarah is long dead. I don't need to be reminded anymore. I saw her on that day. The gruesome picture of her painful death has been my driving force all along. Where did Betty get that information from? If Sarah were alive, she would never be here. The same country she was s

SarahIt’s strange. The same man that once captured me turned out to be my saviour yet again. A private jet flew us back to Russia and now we are parked in front of a familiar skyscraper. There’s an awkward silence first. It feels like both of us have a lot to say. Like old friends reuniting again, in spite of our toxic history. There is something about this man sitting next to me. Something dark but alluring enough to make me feel comfortable. Enough to make me stay without thinking of an escape. “How long have…”Marco hesitates. I know exactly what he wants to say but I can't give him the details of everything that happened since we parted ways. “Why…why didn’t you tell me?”“Tell you what?” I ask, taking off the seat belt as Marco stares vaguely into the windscreen, or maybe he's watching someone ahead. I can't say. “That…You…That you were fine. Alive.”“No one cared to find me until now,” I reply, without looking at him as I notice his gaze shifted back on me. “You…you were la