All Chapters of The Return of The Mafia Boss: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

~A New Identity~Andrès went closer to the man and looked him straight in the eyes. Andrès stern look sent shivers down the employee's spine and he couldn't respond.Andrès took another step closer to the man and with his gaze on him, he spoke just two words, "Què dijiste?" His voice, sharper and firmer. The workers all had shock written on their faces. It was the first time they heard Andrès speak in a language other than English. He must have been really upset to do that- so they thought."Nada, señor. No dije nada." the employee replied.For a moment, Andrès stood there, scrutinizing the employee's facial expression and his body movement. Andrès rolled his eyes the second he noticed the beads of sweat forming on the guy's forehead. He was too scared to repeat his words. He shook his head and turned, walking away from them. In less than an hour of Andrès restlessly sitting and waiting for the arrival of the police, he finally heard the sound of a car park and the red and blue li

~The Funeral~ Andrès drained the last of his whiskey, feeling the warmth spread through his chest. The tension of the day began to loosen its grip on him, his body slowly surrendering to the fatigue that had been building up. With the weight of the situation now resting more comfortably on his shoulders, he decided to call it a night. He set the empty glass down on the bar and walked toward his bedroom. His steps were heavy, but his mind remained sharp, always calculating. Elijah's death was the first domino to fall, setting off a chain of events that would lead to something much larger-something he would control. He knew tomorrow would be a performance, but he was ready. This was his game now. Once he reached his room, he didn't bother turning on the lights. He slipped out of his clothes, letting them fall carelessly to the floor, and crawled into the cool sheets of his bed. For a moment, as his head hit the pillow, he felt a strange feeling of peace. Perhaps it was the relief o

~Cold Hate~Andrès paced back and forth by the pool, his mind racing with fury and the need for a swift action. He had to get to the marina and figure out what happened to his shipment. His fingers drummed against his phone as he considered who to call first. Jorge was already mobilizing a team, but Andrès needed more than muscle. He needed insight-someone who could see through the shadows of this power play and point him toward the right target.He dialed Hugo's number, waiting impatiently as the phone rang. Hugo was one of the few men Andrès truly trusted in the cartel. He had been a long-time informant, a man with ears on the ground and a nose for sniffing out trouble. If anyone could help him investigate this mess, it was Hugo.After a few rings, Hugo picked up. "Boss," he greeted, his voice calm but curious. "What's going on?""Meet me at the house in ten minutes. We're going to the marina," Andrès replied, not wasting time with pleasantries."Alright. What's happening?" Hugo ask

~Denial~Andrès sat frozen, the weight of the man's words crashing down on him. His father? His mind raced to catch up, but all he could do was stare at the man across the table. The noise of the restaurant faded away, leaving a strange silence between them."My father?" Andrès finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper, though anger and confusion evident in his eyes. His heart pounded as he glared at the man, searching his face for any sign of a lie.The man, calm as ever, reached into his jacket and pulled out a small envelope. With careful hands, he laid it on the table, opening it slowly as if he had all the time in the world. Inside were photos, old and worn from age. He slid them across the table toward Andrès.Andrès hesitated before picking them up, his fingers trembling slightly. His breath caught in his throat when he saw what was in them. There he was, a small baby wrapped in a blue blanket, smiling up at the camera. A younger version of the man sitting across

~More Questions~By morning, Andrès woke up with a heavy head, the remnants of the previous day's turmoil still weighing on him. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to clear his mind. But no matter how hard he tried, the memories of the conversation with Carlos kept creeping back in. His real name. His true identity. The lies. It felt like a bad dream that wouldn't go away.He dragged himself out of bed and got dressed, slipping into his usual crisp shirt and trousers. Every move felt heavy, as if his body was on autopilot while his mind wandered elsewhere. Once he was ready, Andrès made his way to the living room, the early morning light filtering through the large windows, casting soft shadows across the room.He sat down on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together as he stared into space. His plan for the day swirled around in his head-dealing with the shipment, finding a way to put David against his father-but before he could tak