All Chapters of When the Fool Heals the Mafia: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Zogo's POV"Update?" I asked Brooks as he approached.The girl had already gone back to her room, completely unbothered by our presence. In the city both in elite circles and in the underworld, we are feared. People freeze just standing near us.But her?She just turned her back like we didn't exist.She was wearing an oversized, hooded black jacket that almost covered her entire face, but I could still clearly see her small features. She was beautiful, like a character from a painting. Doll-like. Her porcelain skin looked fragile....too delicate to touch. Her pale complexion made it seem like she never stepped out in the sun, and her gray eyes... they were cold, empty, hiding countless secrets."Sir, I think Finn got the wrong information," Brooks said, pulling me back to the present."What do you mean?" I asked coldly."The girl in the picture is her... but the information doesn't match." He handed me a tablet.I looked.The girl in the photo was definitely the same one in that room

Amara's POVThe sky was still dark when I opened my eyes, the early light not yet peeking past the horizon. Everything was silent, save for the occasional hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the soft ticking of the wall clock. I sat up quietly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My body moved on instinct, going through the routine I've followed for the last four years.Wash face.Brush teeth.Drink hot water.Simple, quiet rituals that grounded me in a world I kept at arm's length.I glanced toward Mr. Walton's room. The door was still closed, maybe he was still asleep. In the living room, I could see Brooks lying on the floor with nothing but a blanket I'd thrown over him last night. Jerald was stretched out on the long sofa, breathing steadily. His injured side was bandaged, though a faint patch of blood had seeped through the fabric of his shirt. I paused for a moment, just watching them, feeling the strange reality of strangers occupying my small, quiet world.I needed air.Pu

The jet wheels kissed the runway of City T just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in molten gold and rust. The skyline rose like sharpened blades against the heavens, and the city pulsed with its usual rhythm cars honking, neon flashing, people moving with purpose.But inside Zogo Walton's chest, a storm had already begun.He sat in silence in the backseat of a black bulletproof car, fingers clenched on his lap, his custom-tailored suit still immaculate despite the long-haul flight. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, didn't leave the window as the vehicle glided through the streets of the city, he'd once called home.Now it felt like a battlefield.The car stopped directly in front of Walton Global, the towering headquarters of his global conglomerate. As he stepped out, the doors of the executive elevator opened automatically, and the world seemed to fall away with each floor he ascended. The hum of the building faded. Only his own heartbeat kept time.The top floor o

The Page Estate shimmered like a dream that had too much money to spend.Golden rays of sunbathed the mansion's ivory pillars and spilled into the garden below, where City T's elite sipped champagne beneath a canopy of twinkling fairy lights and imported roses. Crystal chandeliers hung even in the outdoor tents, as if God himself might pass by and judge the décor.It was that kind of party.And then came Amara Musk.She stepped out of a sleek black car, the kind that purred instead of roared, with tinted windows like secrets. Her dress navy satin with delicate pearl buttons hugged her softly, chosen by Cristy to scream refined elegance. Her hair was pinned in soft waves, framing her face like she belonged on a royal postage stamp.For two whole seconds, she looked every bit the hidden heiress she was supposed to be.Then...."OH MY GOSH!" she gasped, spinning in the driveway like a toddler seeing Disneyland for the first time."Is that a real peacock by the fountain?! Cristy, may I ri

The hallway outside the powder room was lined with velvet-draped walls and chandeliers that cast golden shadows against the polished marble floors. The kind of place is designed for elegance and whispers not confrontations.Zogo leaned against the wall, half-shadowed beneath a crystal sconce. He looked like a man waiting for nothing, bored and distant, but every muscle in his body was alert. Watching. Calculating.His security was gone…dismissed quietly a few minutes ago under the guise of privacy. No one saw. No one noticed. Just as he intended.He’d learned long ago that silence was a weapon, and patience was its twin.Then… she stepped out.Amara Musk.Hair cascading down in lazy waves, heels clicking softly as she adjusted the strap like it was a nuisance, but Zogo could see the tremor in her fingers from across the corridor. Not fear. Not quite. It was something heavier like a secret trying to claw its way out of her chest.She held a peppermint in her hand. Useless. A stall tact