Deadly Embrace

I stood at the edge of a rundown Casino, my breath forming a mist in the cold air. The only sound was the distant noise of traffic, a huge contrast to the sound my heartbeat was making..

My target, a low level thug of the De-santi Family, was inside, surrounded by his hoodlums. This was the moment I was waiting for, after an apex of months of planning. Tonight, Justice must be served, no matter the cost.

I checked my weapon, feeling it's heavy weight on my hips. The metal was cold but I felt fire in my veins. I was a woman on a mission, a force surely to be reckoned with. With a command, my team were ready to move at the strike of my hand signal.

As I moved closer to the Casino, my heart were beating faster than the clocks could tick. I could hear the irritating voices and disgusting laughter echoing in the night. I had never held my gun more tighter.

With a fast motion, I jammed the door opened, with my gun cocked and ready. The scene before me was chaotic and extremely noisy. Despite the chaos, I stayed locked him on my target.

"Police! You are all under arrest," my voice cut through the noise and was immediately greeted with silence.

The thugs hesitated as they were still in shock of my entry. That was the only opening I needed.

In the blur of the moment, I gave a shot of warning, it echoed like thunder in the enclosed space.The place became a frenzy of movement and was thrown into disorder.

I immediately aimed for my target's leg but the shot was taken by one of his goons, as he used him as a shield.

He immediately took off, running through a certain exit that was not accounted for in our plan.

"Guys, take care of the rest," I said as I ran after my target.

I was getting close to him, not until I noticed a man from the shadows with a spider tattoo on his arm, emerging from the shadows behind him.

As quick as lightning, all I heard was a gunshot and my hands filled with blood. I was shot. I staggered backwards, the world spinning around me.

Before I regained a bit of consciousness, the two men were already gone. I bit my lips and clenched my fist as I laid on the ground wallowing in my failure. I knew one thing for certain, that it was far from over.

"Come in,....Come in, Elena are you okay?" I heard from my Walkie Tokie as I blacked out.

I woke up at the hospital, the smell of antiseptic affecting my senses. My vision was blur at first, but when my eyes were cleared. I saw my captain, Detective Joe with his ever serious face, standing at the foot of my bed. I noticed tears on my hands, and it was from my intern, Christopher, which I was supposed to supervise. And then, there was my father, Joseph moretti, standing at the other side of my bed, etched with concern.

"Mr Joseph, please may I have a minute with your daughter," Detective Joe said, with a straight look on his face.

"Thank you," I told my intern as he left the room with my dad.

"I will relieve you of all your mafia cases, it's too much for you to control."

"I decline sir, this is nothing more than a scar compared to what I have faced over the years," I protested, sitting up despite the pain that I felt through my arm.

"Elena, this is not a request, this is a order. You will be relieved of it all, and will be handing over the case to the intelligence team, first thing tomorrow morning," He raised his voice as he left the room angrily.

I didn't have enough strength to retaliate. I just laid back on my bed and accepted reality.

After being discharged, I rode home in silence with my father. The atmosphere was anything but friendly. I couldn't help but feel uneasy. As we entered the house, my father turned to me, his expression grave.

"Elena, I need you to promise me that you won't get involved in any mafia case again" he began, his voice strained.

I felt a surge of anger. "But you've been involved in the Bianchi case, releasing stories and all. Why can't I be involved? You've always told me to go after what is right, so what makes this one any different?" I dashed out of his sight in anger and went straight to my room.

Later that night, as I laid in my bed, the sound of rain tapping against my window, filled the room. I couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that hung over me.

I began to hear mumbling and noise from the living room. Unable to sleep, I got up and wandered into the living room. I saw my dad with a smile of accomplishments on his face as he packed some documents from his table to his bag in haste.

"At last. I will be back soon, dear," He said as he walked out of the house. I could not grasp the situation fully so I sat down and was worried. After about 30minutes I noticed a paper on the floor, one that my father must have dropped earlier. It was about the Bianchi family, showing some activities that he had been looking into.

My senses spiked and I knew danger was looming.I tried calling but couldn't get through.

My heart pounding, I immediately rushed out of the house in my pyjamas, the rain soaking me to the bone. I ran for what felt like hours, my mind racing. Finally, I reached a secluded spot, and I could sight a body laying on the ground from afar only to find my father lying on the ground, blood pooling around him.

"Dad!" I cried out, rushing to his side.

"Dad, talk to me, talk to me please."

I raised his body to my lap with tears rolling down my eyes.

My father looked up at me, his voice barely a whisper, "Elena, stay away from them. Don't... don't approach them."

Tears streaming down my face as I watched my father take his last breath. As I watched my hand filled with blood and his body on me. I slowly began to smile with tears still rolling from my face. I grinned my teeth and clenched my fist.

"I won't rest until I bring them to justice, Dad. I promise," I vowed.

"Well, all I needed was a valid reason" I smirked with tears still rolling down my eyes.

Chapter 2

*Michael De-Santi POV*

I slowly turned the knob on my scope, focusing the crosshair in the middle of my sight. I slowly rotated my sniper, scanning the shipment port twelve hundred meters away. My breathing steadied as I laid my eyes upon my target, Viasto Bianchi, who was aligned perfectly within my sight.

The Bianchi family has been rivals with the De-Santi family for decades. Though we are all criminals, their operations and ideology were brutal. They'd kill indiscriminately, irrespective of gender or age. They would even kill brutally, even without being on a mission. And worst of it all, they allowed inward killing. Every failed mission was an automatic death sentence. I had always made sure to take on all Bianchi missions myself.

Now, quiz of the day: Heart shot or headshot?

It was one of my habits to contemplate which part of my target would take my shot. I was weighing my options as I tapped against the trigger slightly. I waited for a few moments before I settled for the heart and locked in. I held my breath to focus the shot.

The second I was about to press the trigger, a call came in, causing me to vibrate. The shot practically blew his hands off. But I had already failed.

"Shit," I said as I packed up my Remington MSR sniper in my bag. I didn't have time to contemplate my mistake. I just needed to make a run for it, as his men were already chasing from the direction the bullet came from.

I was always sure of every mission, so I usually had only one exit planned out.

Well, of course, today was different. I scanned the dimly lit alley. I knew they were coming, and could feel the tension in the air. Suddenly, two of the Bianchi's men emerged from the passage to my exit, their intent clear.

One lunged at me with a knife, aiming for my ribs. I sidestepped, catching the man's wrist and twisting it sharply. The knife clattered to the ground as the man cried out in pain. Using the momentum, I drove my elbow into the man's face, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone. The first assailant crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The second man, larger and more buffed, charged at me with a roar.

"Whoa, you are huge, fam. Can't we do this...," I was interrupted as I immediately dodged under the wild swing, hitting him with a solid punch in his gut. As the man toppled over, I brought my knee up into his face, sending him staggering back. He regained his stance quickly, throwing a series of punches. I evaded each one, my movements fluid and precise. I saw an opening and delivered a swift uppercut, followed by a kick to the side of the head. He fell, his head hitting the pavement with a dull thud.

"We could have been friends, though," I said, breathing heavily with a smile. I took a moment to assess my surroundings. Both men lay unconscious at my feet. Without wasting any more time, I immediately dug into my pocket, pulling out my keys and pressing the start button as I could hear more men heading my way. I turned the corner to see my all-black McLaren 720S roar to life. I opened the driver's side door and slid into the leather seat. I tossed my sniper into the backseat. "What a drag," I muttered before taking a much-needed deep breath.

As my adrenaline died down, it was replaced with anger. On every mission I went on, I had to carry a phone, and the only person who could call me was the boss, whom I will take over from.

There were only two things to be said when he called: "Is the job done?" or "It has been cancelled." It couldn't be the former because I always hit the deadline, and it most certainly must not be the latter because no mission on the Bianchi family has ever been cancelled.

I gripped my wheel firmly, grumbling as to why he called. "I have to go see him then," I said as I took a sharp left turn, heading for his mansion.

I approached his fortified mansion. The outer perimeter was surrounded by an electrified fence, the sound of electricity, a constant reminder of its lethality. Surveillance cameras dotted the area.

I greeted the first layer of guards-buffed men armed to the teeth, patrolling with the precision of a military unit. "Welcome home, sir," they nodded in recognition, allowing me to pass.

The second layer consisted of biometric scanners and a reinforced gate. I placed my hand on the scanner, the green light acknowledging my identity. Beyond this was the center of my father's fortress: a maze of hallways monitored by motion sensors and more guards, some with wild dogs on tight leashes.

Finally, I reached the main building. I bypassed the final security checkpoint, a retinal scanner that only recognized members of the family. The door unlocked, granting me access inside.

I entered the room, the door slamming against the wall. I took a deep drag from my cigar, the smoke curling around me as I exhaled slowly.

My father, startled, looked up with a scowl. A naked woman, one of his staff, was settled on his lap, her cheeks flushed, hair scattered.

"Don't you ever knock?" my father growled, pushing the woman away as he stood up, glaring at me.

My father's robust body could not be mistaken, the muscles beneath his skin, taut and powerful. He possessed the same unique hair I had inherited, thick and dark, with a distinctive silver streak running through it. His face, though aged, bore a striking resemblance to mine, with sharp, chiseled features.

My entrance ruined the moment. My father looked up, his expression dull as ever, muscles rippling as he pushed the woman away and stood up. She packed her clothes and left.

"What was the call about?" I asked, still smoking. "You interrupted my mission."

"Hope you did not kill him," my father said as he stood up.

"What do you mean? Was I not supposed to? Anyway, I could only blow his arm off," I said with a hint of curiosity, trying to grasp the reason behind my father's reaction.

"Are you insane?" he raised his voice. "We are going to be joined to the Bianchi family soon."

I paused in shock, dropping my cigar and stomping it out. "I do not want to even know about any discussion you've had, but as long as I am the heir of this family, that decision will not stand."

"You are still young, you do not underst-"

"I do not care," I insisted with a fierce look, intercepting his words and walking out of the room, my hands tucked in my pockets.

*Anthony De-Santi's POV (Michael's father)*

"How do I explain it to him?" I asked, with a concerned look to my butler.

My butler, Andrew De-santi, walked up to me laying his hands on me. "If he won't learn by words, he will learn by experience."

I looked at him with a more concerned and desperate look. I knew Danger was looming.

*Michael De-santi's POV*

Despite having a big profile. I have always believed in keeping low profiles on my residence.

A mystery even to my family members, Located in an unassuming neighborhood, it was an apartment no one would believe a mafia boss will reside. I would always park my car around the family house and took a bus home. My house is simple and modern, with clean lines and minimalist decorations.

I entered and sat on my bed and was lost in thought for a little while. "Ohh, before I forget" I said as I stood up to head towards my basement.

The door opening silently, revealing a staircase that descended into darkness. As I made my way down, the air grew cooler.

At the bottom of the stairs was a steel-reinforced door. I unlocked it and stepped into the basement, a space that resembled more of a typical cell.

"Please, Michael, you have to understand," a man begged, his voice trembling whom I held in a small cell at the corner of the room.

He was disoriented, his clothes torn and dirty, and his eyes wide with fear. As I approached him, he scrambled to his feet, clutching the bars of the cell.

"Please,I had no choice! I didn't mean to use him as a shield. I was just trying to survive!"

I gazed at the man with a cold look. "The only reason I did not let you die in the hands of that police officer,was because I could not watch my family get killed" I said, my voice low and menacing while clicking my lighter. "You used a guard. Do you know what that means in our world?"

The man nodded frantically, his face pale. "I know, I know! But please, give me another chance. I'll do anything. Just don't kill me."

I remained silent for a moment, My eyes locked onto the man's. I turned and walked to a nearby table, where a set of keys lay. Picking them up, I approached the cell and unlocked it. The man stumbled out, falling to his knees in front of me.

"Thank you, thank you!" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "I promise I won't tell anyone about this place. I swear it."

I grabbed the man by the collar and lifted him to his feet, my grip firm and unyielding. "You'd better keep that promise,". "If I hear even a whisper of this place, I will hunt you down and make you wish you were dead."

The man nodded vigorously, his entire body shaking. "I won't say a word. I swear."

I shoved him towards the stairs. "Get out of here. And remember, I'm watching you."

As slammed I the door shut behind the fleeing man, I stood in the basement, my mind racing with thoughts what caused the change in heart of my father. Knowing my father hated them with as much hate that matched mine.I lit a cigar, the smoke curling around me as I exhaled slowly.

Something didn't add up. "The old man wasn't one to abandon a grudge without a reason". I thought to myself

The next day was my official coronation as the boss of the De-santi family. I arrived at the mansion, the atmosphere was heavy with an unusual quiet. The absence of guards and servants raised my suspicion. My gut stirred with unease as I pushed open the front doors and was greeted by a sight that would traumatize me forever.

A pool of blood spread across the marble floor, the bodies of my family members lying lifeless on the ground . "What.. what" My breath caught in my throat, eyes wide showing utter dismay. I barely had time to process the scene when a bullet whizzed past my right arm, hitting against the wall behind me.

In an instant, I duked to the ground , taking cover as a hail of bullets shattered the silence. I could tell from the relentless fire that his enemies were outside, blocking every exit. "Shit" I said looking for a means of defense. My heart pounding profusely as I crawled among the corpses, my mind racing to devise a means of escape.

The gunfire ceased for a moment, and I seized the opportunity to hide among the dead. I layed still, controlling my breathing as I heard footsteps approaching. Some men in black entered, confirming the deaths and pouring gasoline over the bodies. My breath sank as the smell of gasoline filled the air.

"Is he dead?" a voice demanded over the phone.

"Yes, ma'am," one of the attackers replied.

"Then show me his body," the voice commanded angrily.

I watched through half-closed eyes as the man turned back towards the pile of bodies. Seizing the moment, I crept toward an exit. Couldn't have made a bigger mistake.

But before I could escape, a shot aimed for my heart, hit my shoilder causing him to drop.

"He's dead now," the man said, cutting the call. He turned back to leave the room, which was now ablaze with flames up the walls.

I fought my way through the burning house, narrowly avoiding the flames and the collapsing structure. My body drenched in blood, barely clinging unto life. I burst into a hidden room known only to core members, grabbing crucial documents and supplies making my way out.

With the mansion collapsing behind me, I hijacked a taxi, forcing the driver out and speeding away. As I approached my own house, I saw it too was engulfed in flames. Had no time for contemplating. Desperation took over, driving without direction, eventually finding an abandoned house on the outskirts of town.

I stumbled inside, collapsing onto the floor. My wounds were severe, and the blood loss were taking its toll, my eyes dizzy. Using supplies from an emergency kit I sighted in the house, I treated my injuries, stitching up the worst of the gashes and bandaging my shoulder. Exhaustion overcame me, but I fought to stay conscious, knowing I needed to stay alert. It was only a matter of time before I gave out.

**Elena Moretti's POV**

"What a long a day" I said savouring a rare moment of peace as I strolled through the streets. The sun had just set, casting a cool feel across the neighborhood. Suddenly, the sound of commotions caught my attention. I turned back to see a severely injured man, dripping with blood and was forcefully hijacking a car from a scared civilian.

"Hey!" I shouted off my wits, but the man was already speeding off. Without a second thought, I ran to a nearby bike. "Call this number later for your bike", I said in an hurry taking off in. My heart pounded as I passed through traffic, determined not to lose sight of him.

The chase was long and exhausting, the city's streets gradually giving way to more silent roads. Finally, I saw him pull into an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. I parked the bike a safe distance away, watching as the man stumbled inside. I waited for a few moments, as I gathered my thoughts and prepared myself for whatever would happen.

Quietly, I approached the house, with my gun drawn and leading the front. I navigated through the cluttered rooms until I found him, sprawled unconscious on the floor. The sight was shocking: his body was full of scars, bruises, and poorly executed stitches. Blood seeped through his clothes, pooling around him.

I knelt beside him, grabbing a first aid kit next to his side and began to clean and dress his wounds. "Hang in there," I murmured, My hands working efficiently in haste.

When I was done tending to him, my eyes caught sight of a stack of files scattered across a table. Out of curiosity,I reached for one, flipping it open to reveal documents about the De-Santi family. My pulse quickened. The De-Santi's are a evil mafia family, deeply involved in crime and corruption and I believed they have a deep connection with the bianchi family.

"Who are the hell you?" I said, my face shifting back to the unconscious man. The connection of this man to the De-Santis made me both furious and curious. What is his connection to the family, why so much injuries?

I handcuffed him and rested on a wall, watching him closely.I had questions and I needed answer and I am not leaving until I get one. My day off had taken a huge turn from what I could ever imagine.