MY DANGEROUS LOVE IN THE MAFIA

In a dimly lit room filled with anguished cries and pleas to end the torture, a young man sat in a chair, sipping his champagne while watching an older man being brutalized by his henchmen.

The older man was a German mafia boss who dared declare war against the young Italian mobster Darius Vallerio. Vallerio was infamous for his ruthlessness and swiftness in dealing with anyone who dared deceive him.

That older mafia boss was Triston Feroanus, now bound tightly to an old chair with chains. His body was covered in whip marks and cuts, too weak to fight back. Triston repeatedly begged for mercy, but Darius, true to his nature, did not grant mercy to his enemies.

Darius stood up, lighting a cigarette, and leaned down to stare into Triston's weakened eyes. He blew a thick cloud of smoke directly into Triston's face, causing him to cough.

"Triston Feroanus, how dare you wave the flag of war against me, huh?" Darius asked his face close to Triston's.

"You know what happens when you try to mess with me, don't you? It's not just you who suffers at my hands but also your family," Darius continued, his sharp gaze piercing Triston's eyes.

"Please, don't hurt my family. Kill me if you must-they know nothing," Triston replied, tears streaming down his face. He regretted deceiving Darius by buying his gun with counterfeit money.

"I don't care," Darius said coldly, straightening up before pressing his lit cigarette against a fresh cut on Triston's hand. Triston screamed as Darius applied even more pressure to the wound with the cigarette.

Darius ended his act, returning to his seat and sipping his champagne again.

"Gaston!" Darius called, summoning his trusted right-hand man, who promptly entered with a respectful bow.

"Bring me my laptop with the live call to Triston's family," Darius ordered, and Gaston obeyed.

Triston shook his head in desperation, looking at Darius with pleading eyes.

"Please, Darius-" Triston began, but Darius cut him off sharply.

"Don't speak my name with your filthy mouth. Call me sir," Darius replied, taking another sip of champagne.

"Sir, please, don't harm my family. They're innocent," Triston begged, bowing his head in tears. Gaston returned with a laptop, placing it on the table before Triston.

"Daddy, help me, Daddy!" cried a little girl, around seven years old, on the screen. Triston wept as he looked at his daughter, bound to a chair with her hands and feet tied, just as he was.

"Aaarrghh, Daddy!" the child's scream echoed from the other side of the screen.

"Julia!!!" Triston shouted as he saw Darius's men whip his little girl. They were actual heartless monsters.

"Sir, please release them," Triston pleaded, his gaze fixed on Darius, who wore a cold, twisted smile.

"Don't count on it," Darius responded.

"Gaston, have them kill Triston's family. I don't want him to suffer any longer," Darius commanded, and Gaston followed his orders.

Gunshots rang out.

"Daddy!!!" the little girl's scream filled the room, but it didn't last long before... BANG!

"Triston!!!" His wife's voice came next, full of fear, and shortly after, BANG! Silence fell. There were no more screams from the other side of the call-only the final cries of his wife.

"Nooo!!!" Triston screamed, consumed by agony and rage. His eyes filled with tears, but he was helpless.

"Now it's your turn," Darius said with a devilish grin. Triston resigned himself to his fate. Darius took a wine bottle, pouring it over Triston's wounded body.

"Arrrggghhhh!!!" Triston screamed as the alcohol seeped into his wounds.

"Enough playing around," Darius declared, drawing his gun and shooting Triston in the head, killing him instantly.

"Burn him!" Darius ordered his men, then walked out of the torture chamber to clean up.

Darius entered his room, heading straight to the bathroom. Under the cold water, he closed his eyes. He remembered a young girl, around 10, treating a wound on the head of a 17-year-old boy. That boy had been Darius himself.

Back then...

A beautiful girl sat on a park bench, clutching a teddy bear and crying. Darius had been watching her, her long jet-black hair falling over her tear-streaked face. He walked over to the little girl and knelt before her.

"Why are you crying?" Darius asked. The little girl looked up, her red, tear-filled eyes meeting his. Darius was captivated by her beauty.

"Who are you?" the girl asked innocently.

"I'm Darius Valerio," he answered with a genuine smile, a rarity, but the girl was lucky to see it.

"Why are you crying?" Darius asked gently.

"A mafia killed my parents, but I managed to escape," the girl replied, bowing her head and crying again. Darius clenched his fists, furious at whoever had disturbed this little girl's peace. At that moment, he claimed her as his own. Darius had been a mafia since he was 16, taking over after his father's murder.

"Why were they killed?" Darius asked again.

"My father accidentally scratched the mafia's car with his bicycle. He couldn't afford to pay for the damages, so they killed him along with my mother and brother." Darius gritted his teeth in anger.

Would someone kill this girl's family over such a trivial matter? I will avenge her, he vowed.

"What's your name, little girl?" Darius asked.

"Luna Marcelli," she answered. Suddenly, a rock struck Darius's head, drawing blood.

"Hahaha..." five boys laughed as they threw rocks at Darius.

"Hey, go away!!!" a girl shouted. It was Luna, wielding a wooden plank, and the five boys quickly ran off in fear.

"Are you alright, Darius? You're bleeding a lot. Come to the orphanage, I'll treat your wound," Luna said, and Darius nodded. She carefully led him along. Luna took off her blue sweater, pressing it against Darius's head.

"My mom says that if the bleeding doesn't stop, you have to cover it with cloth," Luna explained as she pressed her sweater to his head. She stretched to reach his height, but seeing her struggle, Darius took over and held the shirt himself.

When they arrived at the orphanage, Luna rushed inside while Darius sat on a bench in the garden. She returned with a first aid kit and sat beside him.

"Um, could you sit down here so I can reach your wound? You're too tall," Luna said innocently, and Darius nodded. Sitting down, he let Luna treat his wound with care. When she finished, Luna blushed and smiled shyly.

"Why are you smiling?" Darius asked, his brows knitted.

"You've been staring at me," Luna replied innocently. Darius just smiled and patted her head.

"I have to go now. Thank you for treating my wound. See you." Darius stood up.

"See you," Luna replied, waving.

...the memory faded, and Darius returned to the present.

Darius finished his shower, quickly drying himself before heading to his walk-in closet to dress. He slipped on a casual t-shirt, the image of a ruthless mafia slipping away, replaced by a relaxed, unassuming look.

He grabbed his car keys from the nightstand and left his room. Taking the stairs with a brisk pace, he called for Gaston.

"Gaston," Darius called out as he entered the living room.

"Yes, sir?" Gaston replied respectfully.

"Is Luna at her apartment?" Darius asked.

"No, sir, Luna-"

"Call her 'Miss,' Gaston," Darius corrected him sharply.

"My apologies. Miss Luna is out; your men who are stationed to watch her reported that she's not in the apartment," Gaston replied.

"Where is she?"

"At a bookstore, sir." Darius headed for the garage, intent on following her. He knew Luna's favorite bookstore by heart.

.

.

.

A young woman, Luna Marcelli, wandered through the bookstore aisles, her gaze searching for a specific book. After nearly twenty minutes, she spotted her sought-after title on a shelf a few steps away.

"Yes! Found it!" she exclaimed excitedly, making her way to the cashier. But when she reached into her pocket, she panicked, realizing she'd forgotten her wallet.

Oh no, I forgot to bring money, she thought anxiously.

"Here, Miss." Luna turned to see a man beside her offering to pay for her book. Dressed in a deep maroon shirt, his warm smile was met with Luna's hesitant one.

"I figured you might have forgotten your money," the man said.

"You really didn't need to," Luna replied, taking the bag containing the book or the book the man had purchased for her.

"It's no trouble at all," he replied warmly. They walked out of the bookstore together.

"Would you like to stop at a café?" he suggested. Feeling the man seemed trustworthy despite meeting him only moments ago, Luna nodded.

They settled into a seat at the café, and the man flagged down the waiter to order.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" asked the waiter, ready to take their orders.

"One iced cappuccino," the man said, turning to Luna.

"What?" Luna asked, surprised.

"Aren't you getting something?" he asked.

"I-"

"I'll pay," he said, assuming what she would say.

"One cola float," Luna told the waiter.

"Very well, please wait a moment," the waiter replied, heading off to fulfill their order.

"Oh, by the way, I'm Zachary," the man introduced himself, extending his hand. Luna smiled, shaking his hand in return.

"I'm Luna Marcelli," she replied.

They didn't realize they were being watched from a distance by someone following them since the bookstore. Darius grinned slightly in a black cap and mask as he learned the man's name.

"Zachary," he muttered with a smirk.

"Would you like to be friends, Luna?" Zachary asked, though Darius, seated behind her, could overhear the conversation. Darius's grin widened as Luna responded enthusiastically.

Would you still want to be friends if you knew everything? Darius thought to himself, his smirk growing darker. He let her have her friendship with Zachary-for now. Pulling out his phone, he texted someone before leaving the café.

Once he was gone, Luna's phone chimed with a new message. She opened it, frowning at the strange words displayed on her screen.

...

From: +33147xxxxxx

Hi, Luna. I hope you don't regret befriending him.

...

The mysterious message, of course, came from Darius, though Luna had no idea. Even the apartment she currently lived in had been provided to her by Darius through the orphanage's director, as had her phone.

Luna worked as a cashier at a minimarket to support herself. She had been alone in the world ever since her family's tragic murder.

"Is everything okay, Luna? Something wrong?" Zachary asked, noticing her momentarily lost in thought.

"Oh! It's nothing-just some spam text saying I'd won a prize. But that can't be true; I never enter those things," she replied, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

"Don't fall for stuff like that," Zachary said with a smile.

I hope I won't regret befriending him. He seems like a good guy, she thought.

After finishing her drink, Luna stood. "Well, Zach, I should head home now. Thank you for the treat today," she said with a warm smile.

"You're welcome," Zachary replied, standing as she prepared to leave the café, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Let me give you a ride home," he offered.

Luna shook her head, smiling. "There's no need, Zach. My apartment is close by," she declined gently.

"Don't refuse; think of it as my thanks for accepting my friendship," he insisted. They walked to his car, parked just outside the café. Zachary held the door open for her.

"Thank you," she said, getting in as he settled into the driver's seat. Zachary drove at a moderate speed.

"Do you live alone, Luna?" he asked, glancing at her briefly.

"Yes, just me," she replied.

"Oh. But you have family, right?" Zachary asked again.

"I'm all alone now. My family was murdered, and I was the only one who escaped," Luna answered, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, Luna. I didn't mean to make you sad," Zachary said with regret, taking her hand in his with a remorseful expression.

"It's okay. I just get emotional sometimes," she replied, wiping her tears as Zachary gave her a sympathetic smile and refocused on driving.

Zachary's car pulled up in front of the apartment building, which looked relatively upscale. He was momentarily surprised by the luxury of her apartment.

"This was a gift from the director of the orphanage I stayed in," Luna explained, noticing Zachary's curious expression. He nodded in understanding.

"Alright, I'll head in now. Thank you again for the book and the ride home," Luna said, smiling toward the building lobby.

"You're welcome," Zachary replied, watching her go.

.

.

.

Darius entered his mansion swiftly, his footsteps heavy with tension.

"Gaston!" he called out loudly.

Gaston, hearing the command, approached with a cautious expression. "Yes, sir, is everything-"

"Tell your men to keep an even closer watch on Luna. My girl is currently 'befriending' a low-life," Darius interrupted, barely containing his anger.

"Yes, sir," Gaston replied, bowing respectfully as he went to carry out Darius's orders.

"Berta!" Darius called for the head maid of the mansion, taking a seat on the couch in the living room.

"Yes, sir?" Berta responded deferentially.

"Bring me a bottle of vodka," he ordered.

"Right away, sir." Berta left to fulfill his request.

Soon, Berta returned with a tray holding a bottle of vodka. Darius took it, opening it roughly and taking a deep, aggressive gulp. Right now, Darius was seething with jealousy and anger. The sight of his girl with another man stoked his possessiveness and rage, but he restrained himself-just for now. The game wasn't over, not yet.

.....

Italy, Milan

Since her meeting with Zachary, Luna, and Zachary have often been in touch, discussing things that Luna finds trivial. Regarding the unknown message she received yesterday, Luna dismissed it as just a prank. She didn't regret befriending Zachary at all. She felt happy not to feel as lonely as before.

At this moment, Luna was reading a novel Zachary had bought her the day before. She sat on the balcony sofa of her luxurious apartment, a gift from the head of the orphanage where she used to live. Enjoying the evening breeze, hot chocolate, and the novel, Luna felt she had found the world's peace.

After a while, Luna closed her book and stood up, walking to the balcony railing. She looked up at the sky, where the moon shone, surrounded by stars that adorned the night. How beautiful. A faint smile appeared on her face as the evening wind touched her. She remembered her mother and sister and her childhood memories of when the three of them sat in the backyard, gazing at the stars.

...

In the past, Luna, her mother, and her sister would lie on the grass with a cloth beneath them, enjoying the starry night sky.

"Luna, if someday Mom and I are up there, what would you do?" her sister, Ranelly Marcelli, asked.

"I'd follow you," Luna answered, not taking her eyes off the stars.

"Even if we were with God?" this time, her mother, Orlan Marcelli, asked.

"Yes, I'd follow. You two are a part of my life. Wherever you go, I'll go. Even to meet God," Luna replied firmly.

Ranelly sat up and looked at Luna, who was still lying down. "No, Luna, you mustn't follow us. Your future awaits you. You'll be happy one day with a husband who loves you deeply," she said confidently.

Luna sat up, smiled softly, and shook her head. "No, Sis. My happiness is only with you."

"You're so stubborn, Luna," her sister said, lying back down again. Luna lay back down as well.

Before long, their father, Armon Marcelli, came. "Oh, here you are," he said. Their father, a hardworking man who sometimes struggled to make enough money to feed them, always fought for his family's happiness.

"Dad? You're home?" Their mother got up and approached him near the door connecting the yard to the house.

"I've been calling you all, but none of you heard," he said with a hint of irritation.

"We were deep in conversation, Dad. Sorry," Luna replied with a sweet smile.

Her father laughed softly. "It's okay, dear. As long as you're happy," he replied. Luna's father was a public bus driver, but he was once a noble's son who chose Luna's mother over his family and wealth.

...

Unknowingly, tears had begun to fall down Luna's cheeks as she remembered the happy times with her family. Her sobs turned into quiet weeping. Suddenly, her phone rang. Luna quickly wiped her tears and went into her room to pick up her phone lying on the bed.

When she read the new message, her brow furrowed.

...

+33147xxxxxxxx

"Don't cry, my dear Luna; your tears would be wasted. Save your tears for tomorrow; you'll cry tears of joy."

...

Luna scanned the balcony, looking for someone around, but only saw passing cars on the street. She reread the message, feeling no inclination to respond. Then, she saw a mysterious figure across the street wearing a black hoodie, pants, mask, and glasses. The man's face and body faced her, and their gazes met momentarily. Moments later, her phone rang again with a message from the same number.

...

+33147xxxxxxxx

"My dear Luna, I know you're looking at me right now, and you've read my message. Why won't you reply, darling?"

...

Luna looked back toward the mysterious figure, but he was gone. Fear crept into her, and she quickly entered her room, locking the balcony door with a racing heartbeat. She walked toward her bed and lay down. A sense of fear and dizziness suddenly engulfed her.

Her phone rang again, this time showing an incoming call from Zachary. A small smile of relief formed on her lips, and she brought the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Zach, what's up?" Luna asked first.

"Hey, Luna. Am I disturbing you by calling this late?" Zachary replied.

"No, Zach. I'm actually glad to have someone with me at this hour."

"Should I come to your apartment now? To keep you company?" Zachary offered, though his tone sounded ambiguous to Luna.

"No need, Zach! It's already very late."

"All right. Oh, Luna, I've got to go. Mom is calling me. Bye, good night," he said, hanging up before Luna could reply.

Luna lay back down, trying to close her eyes, though fear still lingered in her mind.

A man was sitting on the sofa in his study, sipping the wine in his hand. He kept staring at a photo of a girl he'd received from his subordinate. The smile on his lips never faded, and his thumb kept caressing the girl's photo.

A firm knock on the door broke the silence in the room.

"Come in!" the man said without taking his eyes off the girl's photo. His subordinate, older than him, entered. The man was Darius, still focused on the girl's picture, unwilling to look away.

"What is it?" he asked coldly and sharply, disturbed by this interruption. When his subordinate remained silent, Darius's face changed, his piercing gaze threatening as he growled in anger.

"Speak, or why did you interrupt me?" Darius hissed, his anger rising. "If you keep quiet, I'll shoot you before you can say a word!" he snapped.

Raco, his subordinate, swallowed hard, shocked and stammering. "S-sir... it's... it's Mr. Edeve..."

Darius quickly drew his gun and fired toward an antique vase near Raco. The shards shattered, hitting the floor with a sharp sound, making Raco even paler.

"Speak quickly! I dislike people who waste my time," Darius thundered.

"Sir... Mr. Edeve has cheated us," Raco said hesitantly, bowing his head under his boss's cold stare. "He gave us counterfeit money for the transaction."

Edeve Biancaro, Darius thought, the infamous American mafia known for his cunning. But no matter how sly, he was no match for Darius's sharpness.

Darius's face reddened, and his jaw tightened.

"That scoundrel-what did he buy?" he asked, his fury evident.

"A hundred Glock 20 pistols and fifty Colt 1911 pistols," replied Raco. Darius snarled, realizing that the items bought were the latest products from his weapons line.

The Glock 20 was lightweight, slim, and deadly. It was made from high-quality materials and could reduce recoil. The Glock 20 held 15 rounds of 10mm caliber and could fire bullets at 1,600 feet per second. On the other hand, the Colt 1911 held seven bullets, each firing at 1,225 feet per second.

Darius stood up and took a harsh gulp of his wine, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat. The flames of his anger masked the heat. Darius felt wronged, losing $1.5 billion, and ordered Raco to capture Edeve, that deceitful scoundrel, by any means necessary.

"Have all our men surround Edeve and his group. I'm going to see my girl. When I return, everything should be in place," Darius commanded coldly, then strode out of the room.

That night, Darius planned to see his girl, Luna, disguised as a mysterious figure. Standing in front of the mirror, he put on black pants, a black hoodie, and a black mask and finished his look with a pair of black sunglasses.

Darius exited his room and quickly descended the stairs.

"Hey, thief!" One of his men's shouts made him stop. The man didn't recognize his boss.

Fool, Darius thought, smirking behind his mask. He turned slowly, looking at the man who had shouted at him. Darius pulled down his mask slightly, just enough to reveal his face without wearing his sunglasses.

"Sir...?" the man mumbled nervously, realizing his mistake of calling his boss a thief.

Without a word, Darius pulled his mask back up. He turned away, leaving his subordinate frozen, feeling foolish and anxious for shouting at his boss.

Darius walked toward his black Lamborghini parked outside his mansion's door. He drove off at high speed.

Darius arrived outside his girl's apartment. He looked up at her room, the light still on. He smiled, seeing Luna with her eyes closed, enjoying the night breeze on her cute, beautiful face. Soon after, she began to cry, and Darius felt a pang in his heart-even though he wasn't the one who made her cry, his heart felt as if it was already one with hers. Darius pulled out his phone and started sending her a message. He could see Luna looking confused and afraid as if searching for whoever had sent her the message. Darius chuckled softly, finding Luna's confused expression endearing.

Darius was a bit surprised when Luna managed to spot him. She gazed intensely at him, so he sent another message to divert her attention. It worked; she focused back on the message, allowing him to slip away unseen, though he could still see her. He watched as Luna hurriedly went inside her room. After that, Darius didn't know what she was doing in her room.

Darius picked up his phone and made a call.

"Keep an eye on my girl while I'm away. I'll be in America for three days to corner that scoundrel Edeve," he ordered, then ended the call without waiting for a response.

"See you, my honey," Darius murmured, looking at Luna's closed balcony door.

...

Darius was now dressed in his mafia attire. Without waiting until morning, he was leaving for America that very night. He couldn't wait to crush Edeve's head for deceiving him. Darius walked to his balcony as the sound of his helicopter grew near. He looked up and saw three of his helicopters approaching. Two were for his men, and one larger one was for him and his pilot.

The helicopter he would board descended to align with his balcony. Darius jumped into it, buckling his seatbelt and putting on his microphone.

After a six-hour flight from Italy to America, Darius wasted no time. Darius had no rest when he was furious. At this moment, his and his men's helicopters were hovering above Edeve's mansion.

Darius descended via a long ladder to Edeve's balcony. He peeked through the glass door of Edeve's room. Edeve was sleeping with his wife and five-year-old son. Darius smirked. Edeve, lying with his family, didn't look like a mafia figure.

Darius shot the glass door, waking Edeve, and his startled wife.

"Who are you?" Edeve yelled, his voice filled with panic. Darius only stared back with an intimidating, cold smile. His black hat partially covered his face, leaving only his sharp, hate-filled gray eyes visible.

"Who are you?" his voice echoed with anger mixed with fear.

"Hello, Mr. Edeve Biancaro, pleased to meet you," Darius said, lifting his head with a sneer.

"Darius... Darius... Darius Vallerio?" Edeve stammered, his face turning pale.

"Yes, I'm Darius Vallerio, the Italian mafia you tried to cheat with counterfeit money in our transaction," Darius replied sharply. "How have you been, Mr. Edeve?" he asked, sitting casually on Edeve's sofa and lighting a cigarette.

"What do you want from me coming here?" Edeve shouted, his voice rising as he tried to mask his fear.

"Of course, I'm here to crush your skull because it's your head that thought of cheating me," Darius replied calmly, exhaling smoke from his mouth.

Edeve's wife tried to leave the room, carrying her child, but her steps stopped abruptly as the sound of a gunshot echoed in the room.

"If you take one more step out of here, I'll shoot your son in the head," Darius said coldly, staring with a furious expression.

He grinned, his smile reflecting the cruelty of his intentions behind his face. "Let's begin the game," Darius said in a low voice, the devilish smile lingering on his lips.

....

In a dimly lit room with minimal lighting and accompanied by the haunting sound of a painful scream, two middle-aged people sat in worn-out chairs, their hands and feet bound. Anyone who saw them would feel pity at the sight of the couple, now covered in bruises and cuts.

The two were Edeve Biancaro, an American mafia boss, and his wife, Yatty Biancaro. Their faces were bruised and slashed. Darius sat before them as usual, sipping champagne from Edeve's refrigerator. It was not Darius who had tortured them; instead, he had left that to his subordinates.

"Gaston!" Darius called out, his voice echoing through the room. This time, he wanted to torment Edeve and his wife in the basement of Edeve's mansion.

"Yes, sir?" Gaston replied respectfully.

"Take all of Edeve's money from the safe and the pistols from our production line that he stole," Darius said coldly.

"Hey! I didn't steal your guns, you fool!" Edeve snapped angrily.

"Fine, the guns you bought with counterfeit money, Edeve Biancaro," Darius retorted, his gaze sharp as he looked at Edeve.

Suddenly, a young child's voice called out from outside, "Mommy! Daddy! Where are you?"

Darius sneered wickedly. "Oh-ho... seems your son is awake. Should I bring him here, perhaps?"

"Please, don't hurt my son! He's only a child," Yatty pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

"Ssh, don't cry, my wife. What if Edran hears?" Edeve whispered, referring to their son, Edran Biancaro.

"Let Edran hear. This is all your fault for buying guns with fake money! If only you hadn't done that, neither Edran nor I would be in this danger," Yatty snapped angrily.

"Yat-"

"What, don't you have enough money to buy real guns? You're so selfish, Ed. I regret not being able to stop you sooner!" she continued, cutting him off.

"What?" Darius asked coldly. "Repeat your last words."

"I regret not being able to stop him," Yatty replied, her voice trembling.

"What do you mean?" Darius asked, still with a cold gaze.

Slowly, Yatty's story began to flow, her words heavy with emotion...

.

.

.

Yatty entered the mansion, holding her young son's hand in her right hand while carrying a shopping bag in her left. Once inside, she gently seated Edran on the sofa in the family room, smiling softly as she looked at her innocent son.

"Mom, where's Edran's toy?" Edran asked, his eyes sparkling with hope. Even though he was very young, Edran could pronounce his "R" sounds clearly, which made Yatty proud.

"Yes, which one would you like to play with first?" she replied, smiling gently.

"The remote-control car, Mom," Edran said, wiping his nose.

"Alright," Yatty murmured, handing him the toy shopping bag. "Play nicely, okay, sweetie? Mom's going to get a drink in the kitchen." She gently patted the top of Edran's head before leaving.

As Yatty walked towards the kitchen, she encountered Damian, one of her husband's bodyguards, who stood guard with a vigilant expression.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," Damian greeted her politely.

"Good afternoon, Damian," Yatty replied warmly. After a brief pause, she asked, "Where is Edeve?"

"The boss is making a payment with Mr. Darius' men," Damian replied, looking hesitant.

Yatty suddenly stopped, her hand still reaching for the orange juice in the fridge. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Damian. "Is Edeve cheating this time?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Damian swallowed nervously, his face showing reluctance. "N-no, ma'am," he stammered.

"Don't lie to me, Damian," Yatty said, her tone calm but her heart beating with worry that her husband might be deceiving Mr. Darius.

Finally, Damian took a deep breath. "Yes, ma'am. Mr. Edeve made the payment using counterfeit money," he confessed.

Yatty's eyes widened in shock. "How foolish! Why didn't anyone stop his reckless act? You know that Mr. Darius is a ruthless mafia boss!" she yelled, her voice rising in panic. She rubbed her face roughly, feeling an overwhelming sense of fear.

"Damian, take me to the airport," Yatty said, her face pale.

"No, ma'am. It-it's not safe," Damian tried to persuade her.

"What do you mean? My husband could be in big trouble!" Yatty snapped, unable to contain her mixed feelings of anger and anxiety.

Yatty walked past Damian, ignoring his objections. "Fine. If you all refuse to take me, I'll go alone!" she declared firmly.

Damian quickly stepped in front of her. "Alright, ma'am. I'll take you," he relented, feeling responsible for the safety of his boss's family.

"Kasa!" Yatty called out to the head maid, who quickly came running.

"Yes, ma'am?" Kasa responded immediately.

"Watch over Edran. I need to go to the airport," Yatty said urgently before hurrying out of the mansion.

As she passed through the family room, Edran looked up, "Mommy, where are you going?"

"Mommy has something to take care of for a bit. You play with Kasa, okay?" Yatty answered, forcing a smile before she rushed out. Edran nodded, although his face showed a hint of confusion.

Damian sat in the driver's seat in the car parked in front of the mansion. During the journey, Yatty repeatedly tried to call Edeve, but his line was busy, and her anxiety grew.

"Damian, please, go faster," Yatty urged, her face tense.

Finally, they reached the airport. Yatty hurriedly entered and asked about her husband's private jet's departure time. Her hope was crushed-the plane had taken off sixteen minutes earlier, and the next flight to Italy wouldn't be available for another six hours. Yatty could only pray that Darius, the brutal mafia, would somehow forgive her husband for his terrible mistake.

.

.

.

Two Days Later

Edeve entered the mansion, having just returned from Italy after deceiving Darius.

"Edeve!" Yatty called out sharply.

"Yes?" Edeve answered casually, wrapping his arm around her as if nothing had happened.

"Edeve, did you really deceive Mr. Darius?" Yatty asked, her tone laced with bitterness and disappointment.

Edeve chuckled lightly. "Yes, so what?" he replied as if his actions had no consequence.

"Do you realize that Mr. Darius is a ruthless mafia boss? I don't want our family to be threatened because of your stupidity! This is all on you, and you'll be the one to bear the consequences!" With that, Yatty turned and walked away, leaving Edeve silent. She ignored his calls as she went.

Back in the present, Yatty looked at Darius resignedly, tears streaming down her face.

"A month ago, we planned to escape and hide in a remote town in Sulawesi, Indonesia. We lived there for nearly three weeks, feeling safe. But when we finally felt secure, we returned to America, only to realize today that luck had abandoned our little family. Our lives are in danger," Yatty said, sobbing.

"Gion, release Yatty," Darius commanded, causing Yatty to look at him in disbelief. Gion quickly unfastened the chains on Yatty's hands and feet and began tending to her bruises and cuts.

"You and your son may go. But your wretched husband-I won't let him walk free," Darius sneered, his gaze piercing as he looked at Edeve.

"Thank you, sir," Yatty replied softly, though deep down, her heart was still full of love and worry for her husband.

"Yatty, how could you leave me?" Edeve looked at her, full of regret.

Yatty glared at him coldly. "You didn't hesitate to put Edran and me in danger. You only cared about your own pleasures, never thinking about our safety. And for what? I married you not for love, but for Edran. You stole my dignity and planted your seed in me, and for Edran's sake, I accepted this, so he could have a father," she said, her voice full of anger. Edeve hung his head, realizing the magnitude of his mistakes.

If only he hadn't deceived Darius.

If only he hadn't been so reckless.

If he had loved Yatty the right way, perhaps none of this would have happened. But time only moves forward and can never be rewound, not even by a second.

"I'm sorry, I truly am. I was wrong, selfish. Go, take care of Edran. Find someone who truly loves you. Darius, kill me now. I am ready to face my end," Edeve said firmly, looking Darius in the eyes.

"Ed-"

BANG! A gunshot echoed through the room.

"EDEVE!!" Yatty screamed in horror, seeing her husband slumped lifelessly, a bullet wound in his head.

"Ed... sob... sob..." Yatty shook Edeve's lifeless body, her tears flowing uncontrollably.

"Thank you for freeing Edran and me," Yatty said as she began to walk out of the basement. Her steps faltered when Darius's voice, full of menace, stopped her.

"Dare report this to the police, and you and your son will die before I ever see a prison cell," Darius hissed, his gaze sharp with threat.

Yatty simply shook her head without looking back at Darius and continued her steps out of the basement. She saw her son Edran happily munching on a snack while watching TV in the living room. Edran ran up to her and hugged her legs.

"Mom, where were you? I've been calling for you!" Edran said, looking up at her pale face.

"Mom... um, Mom..." Yatty hesitated. Should she tell her son the bitter truth that a ruthless mafia had murdered his father? No, Edran was too young to know all of this.

Kneeling to his level, Yatty looked into Edran's innocent face and stroked his chubby cheeks. "No, darling, Mommy is fine," she said, smiling before kissing his cheek.

"Can I believe you, Mom?"

"Why not?"

"There's a lot of blood on your clothes, Mom. Whose blood is it?" Edran asked innocently.

"It's... it's Daddy's," Yatty started to say, but her words were interrupted as Darius suddenly appeared, his hands in his pockets.

"It's your father's blood," Darius said coldly.

Edran's eyes began to fill with tears. "Daddy's blood? What happened to Daddy? Is he hurt, Mom?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"Your Daddy-"

"Your Daddy is dead," Darius interrupted once again. Tears began to stream down Edran's cheeks. What child wouldn't cry upon hearing that their father had been killed?

"No! Mom, this man is lying, isn't he? Daddy promised he'd buy me a PlayStation!" Edran screamed, sobbing harder.

"Shhh, calm down, darling," Yatty said, holding him close. It wasn't only Edran who felt the loss-she did, too. Edran pulled away and ran off despite Yatty's calls.

"Why did you tell him all that?" Yatty asked bitterly.

"The sooner, the better," Darius replied calmly.

Suddenly, Edran reappeared with a kitchen knife, and Yatty was shocked by what he did next. Edran ran the blade over his delicate hand, drawing blood.

"EDRAN! What are you doing?!" Yatty shrieked, rushing to grab his bleeding hand.

Edran struggled, but Yatty held him tightly. "Let go of me, Mom! Let go! I want to be with Daddy!" he shouted.

Yatty continued to hold him close, trying to soothe him. "Sweetheart, now that Daddy is gone, are you going to leave Mommy all alone too?"

Edran finally looked up at his mother. "No, Mom. I will protect you. I'll be Daddy for you," he hugged Yatty tightly.

"Would you really let Mommy live alone, without Daddy and without you?" Yatty added, her voice soft. Edran shook his head, cupping her face.

"No, Mom. Edran will never leave you alone. Edran will take Daddy's place to look after you," he replied, hugging Yatty as tightly as he could.

"Good boy," Yatty whispered, kissing Edran's head.

Darius watched the entire scene between Edeve's son and wife. He smirked as he saw Edran cut himself with the knife, sensing that Edeve had passed down some of his traits to his son.

"Gaston!" Darius called out, his voice firm. Gaston came in, bowing respectfully.

"Yes, sir?" Gaston asked.

"Prepare the helicopter. We're heading back to Italy now," Darius said, striding away, leaving Yatty and Edran frozen.

Gaston started directing the other men to prepare for departure. He was confused; his boss had said they would stay in America for three days, but Darius was already calling them back after less than a day. Gaston thought Darius might want to explore this free country for a while, but he had guessed wrong. Darius was still Darius-a man who didn't care for sightseeing, considering it a waste of his valuable time.

Darius was already in the helicopter. Slowly, it began to rise, lifting away from Edeve's mansion. Darius couldn't help but reflect, thinking about all the times he had been cheated with fake money transactions. As he stared at the dark clouds in the night sky, Luna's beautiful face suddenly flashed across his mind. Gradually, he smiled.

"You mischievous girl, how dare you invade my thoughts," he murmured, smiling.

Elsewhere, Luna was watching television with a bowl of potato chips on her lap. She felt a deep, trembling unease as she watched the news report about a gruesome murder-committed by Darius.

"A victim was found dead in his own mansion. It's suspected that the victim was a mafia member who was also a police fugitive. Although he was a wanted man, the police are still investigating this murder..."

"Following the autopsy, it was revealed that the mafia figure died with three bullets lodged in his skull and numerous slash wounds all over his body. Police are continuing the investigation, as the killer left almost no trace," the reporter stated.

Luna let out a frustrated sigh. Just two days ago, there had been another murder-also of a mafia member.

'Could the killer be another mafia member?' she wondered, biting her nails absentmindedly.

"Ahhh, why do mafias always seem to kill? I'm so traumatized by them. Because of a mafia, I ended up all alone in the world," she murmured sadly. Luna was genuinely terrified of mafias-deeply traumatized.

"Oh God, please let my soulmate not be a mafia or anyone tied to one," she whispered, looking up as if pleading with God.

"May I never cross paths with another mafia again."

....