Semua Bab Mafia Game: The 100th Prank, Paid with Life: Bab 1 - Bab 10

After the Jones family's Don, Vincent Jones, suffered an "unexpected amnesia," he chased me like his life depended on it.I played Vincent's girlfriend for three years—and somewhere along the way, I fell for him for real.He swore he'd only ever love me, for the rest of his life.But the moment I was about to tell him I was pregnant, I overheard the senior girl who had bullied me saying to him:"Vincent, thank you for pretending to have amnesia and getting revenge for me; you’ve pranked Claire ninety-nine times.""As long as you hit one hundred pranks, I'll date with you."Only then did I understand: Sienna was the woman Vincent wanted and could never truly have.Only a wall separated us, outside the VIP room of that Italian restaurant in downtown Manhattan.I was just passing by.I told myself: don't overthink it.But their cheering slipped through the crack of the door and nailed my feet to the floor."Sienna—" someone dragged out her name, teasing.Sienna White laughed softly, but h

I deleted every photo of us in my phone.When I got home to pack, a leather journal slipped out of Vincent's safe.On the dark green cover was the first-version game logo I designed after three straight all-nighters.Vincent had it stamped onto the cover, and inside were all my design sketches from these years.When I flipped to page seven, I froze.Next to a photo of me coding in glasses, there was a sticky note:[Today she yelled that the planner was a porcupine, but the revised plan she made is ten times stronger. How can someone be such an adorable genius?]My breath felt like it got strangled.Back then, every time I pulled an all-nighter drawing drafts, Vincent would stay up with me, massage my shoulders, cook for me.One sentence from me, he'd run out at midnight to buy me cake.When I was on my period, he'd massage my belly.He'd tuck my frozen, pale hands into his palms and murmur, "Don't tough it out. You need to learn to rely on me."I believed him.But now I understood - th

His voice was so soft, like he was afraid he'd wake me from a dream:"I'll stay with you until you recover."I closed my eyes.He tucked my blanket in, his movements careful.Then he ran around handling paperwork, picking up meds, buying hospital supplies—nearly an hour of back-and-forth before he finally sat down, looking like the most responsible boyfriend in the world.And yet—He was also the one who pushed me into all of this.I pretended to sleep, but my heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might explode.All night, Vincent barely closed his eyes.He kept watch by my bed. Tears fell one drop at a time. He held my hand like he couldn't let go, like if he loosened his grip I'd truly disappear."I'm sorry, Claire... this is all my fault," he whispered, choking on the words. "I shouldn't have listened to them. I shouldn't have hurt you.""Thank God I still have a chance... I'll never hurt you again. You're my life, Claire.""Just a little more... and I would've lost you. I'm so

Vincent's POVThe moment I heard the words "plane crash," my mind went blank for a full second.Like someone hit mute on my world.The next second, tinnitus exploded. Blood rushed backward. My heart felt like a fist grabbed it and yanked it down.I didn't even have time to confirm the flight number, my body moved first.I ran out the door, rushed into the elevator, dashed out of the building.The driver shouted behind me. I couldn't hear.All I remember is refreshing the news again and again in the car, calling her again and again.No answer.Every busy tone felt like someone scooping a hole out of my chest.You could smell the scene from far away.Burned metal, jet fuel, melted plastic, mixed with damp winter wind then punched into my nose like a vicious slap, snapping you awake from any fantasy.Smoke rolled. Police lights painted the ground in red and blue like an unreal dream.The perimeter was layered again and again.Rescue crews, media cameras, screaming and crying, the noise wa

I whipped around and roared like a beast:"Shut up!"They froze for a second.My chest heaved. My throat burned raw."If it weren't for your prank games, Claire wouldn't be dead!"They blinked then laughed harder, like I'd told the funniest joke."Who are you pretending to be devoted for?" someone sneered. "Weren't you the one who put laxatives in her water?""You were also the one who made her drop her experiment!"That "you were also" hit my face like a hammer.I didn't say another word.I charged and flipped the speaker onto the floor.When my fists landed, I heard the dull thud of bone.They fought back. We tore into each other.The hospital room turned to chaos; monitors shrieked, alarms stabbed into my ears.I didn't know how many hits I took.I didn't know how many I threw.I only knew—I had to smash that laughter.I had to.In the end, I collapsed, limp, covered in injuries, my vision closing in with rings of black.Someone pinned me down. Someone shouted for a doctor. Someone