All Chapters of The Mafia Kings Plaything : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Giordano’s POV. At The Torture Room In Giordano Underground Office.“Move it!” Scarface barked, yanking the boy by the collar and throwing him down the stairs like garbage. The kid hit the cold concrete with a yelp, face already swollen, lips cracked. Blood smeared his shirt. His wrists were tied behind his back, shaking like jelly.Giordano watched from the steel doorway, cigarette glowing between his fingers, and Smoke curled around his face like a snake.“Who the hell is this?” he growled.“The boy with a sharp mouth,” Scarface said, panting. “The one who paid her debt. He was snooping around.”Giordano flicked his cigarette at the boy’s face. He stared at the boy, barely seventeen, skinny, busted lip, one eye swollen shut. His wrists were red from the tight metal. Blood dripped onto the dirty floor. He had a bad smell of thick sweat, blood and old piss.“You better be worth my time, punk.”The boy whimpered, confused. “I-I don’t know anything! I swear! Please!”I don’t know any K

Katarina’s POV“Hey! HEY!” I banged my fist against the door. “You fuckers hear me?! I said I want out!”Silence. “GUARDS!” I screamed till my throat burned. Nothing.The guards outside didn’t answer. They never did. Not unless it was to drag me somewhere or shove a tray through the slit in the door. I kicked it once. Weakly. My leg barely lifted. I was so goddamn tired.I sank back onto the mattress, this thin, scratchy excuse of a bed. My body ached in places I couldn’t even name. My head was heavy. My throat was dry. My eyes burned.There was just a heaviness in my chest I couldn’t shake.I missed Mateo. I missed Selena. I missed... being human.“ Where are you, Mateo? Where are you, Selena? “I stared at the ceiling. Nothing but silence and shadows. I hated it here.Time didn’t move in this place. The air tasted like dust and perfume. The walls sweated old memories. I curled up and let the quiet break me slowly.But then I heard it.A scuffle. Muffled voices. Someone whisper

Giordano’s POV At the torture room“Boss… he’s dead.”“Dead?” Giordano didn’t even blink. He stared at the blood-soaked floor of the torture room, the boy’s limp body still shackled, mouth frozen mid-scream. Giordano’s voice cracked through the smoke-filled room like a whip. “Useless” Dante didn’t flinch. “Yeah. The boy croaked. He stopped breathing sometime last night. Probably from the shock. Weak fucker.” Giordano leaned back in his leather chair, flicked ash from his cigar. “Toss him in the ocean. No point wasting ground space on a liar.” “Yes, boss.” “Make sure he sinks. Tie something heavy to his ankles. I don’t want that skinny bastard floating back to haunt me.”Dante dragged the corpse out with a grunt.The room was silent again. The metallic smell of blood still hung thick in the air. Giordano cracked his neck and stepped into the main corridor of his underground estate, cold marble, low lights, silence that screamed.Giordano rubbed his temples. The headache behind his

Vittorio’s POV“You gave her the bracelet, yes?” Aunt Malva’s voice cut through the smoke in my study like a curse.I didn’t answer right away. I was standing by the liquor cabinet, one hand gripping the neck of a crystal glass, the other resting on the edge of the bar.“I said, did you give it to her?” she snapped, standing in the doorway of his office, arms folded under her shawl, the beads around her wrist clinking softly as she moved. Her eyes were sharp. Ancient. Disappointed.I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No.”“No?” Her brows shot up like knives. “You fool.”“I forgot.”Malva stepped forward. “She needs it now, Vittorio. Now more than ever. Don’t make the same mistake that led to Fiorella’s death.”Her name hit me like a slap. Fiorella.I stood, slammed my glass down. “Don’t”“Don’t what?” she snapped. “You didn’t listen then. And you buried her in silk. You wanna do the same with Katarina?”“I said stop.” My jaw clenched.But she wasn’t wrong. I stared at her for a moment.

Scarface’s POV“Fuck—MOVE!” I yelled, slamming my palm on the dashboard.I was watching everything from the black van, parked a block and a half from Don Luca’s filthy little pleasure pit. Tinted windows. Engine running. My heart was pounding, jaw clenched. I had one goddamn job for that idiot. One.“Get the girl to the back gate,” I growled, mimicking his voice. “Slip her out quietly. I’ll grab her from the alley. Clean and Done.”But what do I see now? One of mine. My boy. Being DRAGGED out the back like garbage. Blood on his face. His Pants were ripped. And Screaming like a bitch.I slammed my fist against the steering wheel again. “FUCK!” The van shook from the impact.I peeled out of the spot fast, my tires screeching. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me. Not now. Not when the plan just went to shit. I turned down a dead-end alley, parked behind a dumpster, and sat there breathing heavy like a damn bull.That junkie bastard.He was always high. Always talking shit. I knew I shoul