The Mafia's Twin Children

California

In the darkness of the room, only the anguished screams of a disturbed woman could be heard. Her body lay weak on a bed soaked with sweat and tears. A large, muscular man, breathing heavily, continued to ravage her body mercilessly, like a demon oppressing his victim.

"Stop! Please, stop!" the woman cried out, pain and fear filling her voice. She tried to plead and hope the man would realize his actions, but there was no response other than his increasingly brutal movements.

Their faces were hidden in the darkness, only faint shadows visible. However, despite being unseen, the rage and lust were palpable in the tense room.

The woman's body grew weaker, losing the strength to fight back. The pain she felt was indescribable. The man, seemingly indifferent to her screams and sobs, continued to push his body against hers violently. Suddenly, the man groaned loudly, reaching his climax.

The woman's body felt increasingly powerless, surrendering to the cruelty she endured. In the darkness of the room, only the sound of sobs could be heard, accompanying the ongoing suffering.

After an exhausting hour, the man fell asleep beside the woman, who lay limp.

Viyone Florencia, a 22-year-old girl with long hair, felt excruciating pain all over her body, especially in the lower part that had just been violated by the unknown man. With tears streaming down her face, she struggled to rise and endure the unimaginable pain. She stepped with trembling legs, searching for her scattered clothes on the floor. After managing to dress, she walked out of the room, trying her best not to cry louder.

However, in the chaos of her emotions, she didn't realize a necklace had fallen and been left behind on the floor.

"What should I do? Jeff mustn't know; we are getting married next month," Viyone murmured, clutching her aching chest. The woman felt as if her world had collapsed, with no hope left for her future with her fiancé.

The bright morning sun began to filter through the window cracks, casting a golden light that enhanced the beauty of the room. The man's athletic body was clearly visible, his six-pack abs, handsome face with a sharp nose, and thick eyebrows. The sunlight on his face woke him from his deep sleep.

"What happened to me?" he muttered, trying to recall the events of the night before, which somehow seemed so hazy in his mind. He felt something was off, as if a part of his memory was missing. He turned to the side and noticed the bloodstains and his seed on the white sheets.

"Damn, that drug took over me," he spat angrily. "That woman was a virgin. Who is she?" he wondered.

The man rose from the bed, rubbing his still groggy face. After taking a shower and dressing neatly, he grabbed his phone and called his assistant to come to the hotel room. He was still curious about the woman who had been with him last night, but the memory was blurry and unclear.

Not long after, a knock sounded at the hotel room door. Knock! Knock!

The man walked towards the door and opened it. Standing before him was his assistant, looking neat and respectful. "Boss," the assistant greeted politely, bowing slightly.

"Do you know the woman who was with me last night?" the man asked coldly, staring sharply at his assistant.

The assistant seemed thoughtful, trying to remember which woman he meant. "A woman, Boss?" the assistant asked, confused, then continued, "I'm not sure, Boss. I didn't see the woman."

The man sighed in frustration, then pointed to the sheets, "Take a blood sample from there and check the DNA. I want to know who that woman is!" he ordered firmly.

The assistant nodded obediently, immediately taking the blood sample and preparing for the DNA examination.

The man, named Wilson Zavierson, 35 years old, was still trying to remember the woman whose virginity he had taken.

Soon after, Wilson's eyes focused on a necklace on the floor beside the bed. As he picked it up and examined it, he noticed an engraving with the letter "V."

"I will find you, wherever you are," he muttered to himself.

Six years later.

A handsome 5-year-old boy with a sharp nose, big eyes, and thick eyebrows was happily watering flowers in the front yard of his house. He held the hose tightly, ensuring the water flowed well to each plant around him.

Suddenly, a woman's voice called out, "Chris, come in, lunch is ready!"

He quickly turned off the water and put down the hose, then ran into the house with joyful steps.

"Mama, I'll go call Papa to eat with us!" Chris exclaimed excitedly, seeing his mother, Viyone, heavily pregnant, preparing lunch at the table.

In an instant, the little boy stepped upstairs to find his father. Viyone smiled at her son's enthusiasm and nodded in agreement, "Yes, dear. Go call Papa; our food is getting cold." Chris nodded eagerly, running towards his father's room, calling his name cheerfully.

Chris headed to his father's room and opened the door. "Papa, lunch is ready!" he shouted with a smile, approaching his father, who was focused on his laptop.

Hearing the boy's voice, his father, named Jeff Hamilton, quickly closed his laptop as if hiding something from his family.

With a cold gaze, he looked at the boy, "Who told you to come in? Don't you have any manners?"

Chris, a little disappointed and lowering his head sadly, replied, "Mama has finished cooking. I just want to eat with Papa. We haven't eaten together for a long time."

"Eat together? Clean up your room! Before you're done, don't join us!" Jeff ordered sternly.

"Papa, I already cleaned my room when I woke up and watered the plants. I also helped Mama sweep the floor, as you asked!" Chris replied.

"In that case, stand by the window and count from 1 to 1000! Only then can you come down!" Jeff ordered harshly before leaving his room.

Chris could only feel sad about his father's attitude, always ignoring him and never paying attention to him. The 5-year-old, known for his intelligence and obedience, always tried to get close to his father. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. His father seemed not to acknowledge him for some reason.

Jeff took a seat at the dining table, which was prepared with delicious dishes. His wife, Viyone, sat beside him, her face slightly anxious. The atmosphere in the dining room felt heavy and tense, as if there was an unspoken tension.

"Where is Chris? Why hasn't he come down to eat?" asked Viyone, trying to fill the silence that enveloped the room.

"Let him finish his task. When we were young, we had to be taught strictly so that when he grows up, he will understand how hard life is," Jeff replied with a firm and cold tone.

Viyone looked at her husband with a sad expression. "Jeff, Chris is only five years old. Why do you often punish him? He's always been very obedient."

Jeff gripped his fork and knife tightly. "We have to train him early so that he becomes a tough individual. We can't pamper him like a weak child."

Upstairs, Chris stood in his room, staring out the window while counting meticulously. His hands trembled, and tears flowed down his cheeks. The little boy felt ignored and feared his father's anger if he made a mistake.

Viyone swallowed, trying to muster the courage to speak further. "Jeff, I know you want the best for Chris. But isn't there a better way to educate him? We can give him love and attention, not punishment."

Jeff stared coldly at his wife. "We've discussed this before, Viyone. I don't want to argue about this anymore."

Viyone sighed and lowered her head heavily. They continued their lunch in silence.

"Just save some food for him. Don't spoil him too much. And don't push yourself to work alone. Ask Chris to help you because he's a boy!" Jeff said firmly.

"Don't worry! Chris is very obedient. He always pays attention to what I do and then helps me," Viyone replied as she set aside some food for their son.

Chris was seriously counting when his eyes caught sight of his father's laptop left in the living room. "Papa seemed to hurriedly close his laptop earlier. Is he hiding something?" Chris wondered. His curiosity drove him to approach the laptop and open it.

"It needs a password," Chris muttered, trying to recall the password he had seen a few days ago when his father opened the laptop in front of him. "I remember now, 120490," Chris thought as he typed quickly. Moments later, the screen unlocked successfully. Chris swallowed hard, hoping not to find anything bad inside.

However, he suddenly found several hidden files with strange names. Chris hesitated, unsure if he should open the files or not. But his curiosity won over. He opened one of the files and discovered photos that shocked the five-year-old. Besides the photos, there were also messages that made Chris read from beginning to end.

After finishing his counting, Chris ate the food set aside by his mother. He struggled to swallow the food, finding it very difficult. The handsome boy's face looked very gloomy, not knowing what he had seen and read earlier.

Viyone had been watching her son, who remained silent. "Chris, are you okay? Why have you been so gloomy?" Viyone asked, sitting beside him.

Chris put down his spoon and fork, turned to his mother, and asked, "Ma, where's Papa?"

"Your Papa has gone to work," Viyone answered with a smile.

"Why has Papa been coming home late recently and sometimes not at all? Is his business so big that he forgets home and Mama, who's heavily pregnant?" Chris asked, slightly upset.

"Chris, why are you talking like that, dear? Your Papa works for us too. Soon your sibling will be born. We need a lot of money," Viyone replied with a smile.

"We're not short of money. Papa can buy a house. How can there not be enough money for a sibling?" Chris replied.

"That house was bought by Papa for our future. So, it's not wrong if Papa is still trying to save money," Viyone answered.

"Liar," Chris thought to himself.

A city in Berlin became a silent witness to a mafia gang war happening on a dark night. The Dragon gang, known as the most feared gang, was involved in a fierce battle with another mafia group.

In the midst of the chaos, a man with a killer aura stood bravely, holding a sharp knife. Around him, the atmosphere was increasingly tense. Blood mixed with dust on the ground, corpses scattered along the street, and several members of his group were severely injured. However, the man remained steadfast in facing dozens of opponents ready to take him down.

The sharp knife in the man's hand moved quickly and deadly. In an instant, he took down several opponents by stabbing their bodies and necks. Screams of pain echoed among the sounds of clashing weapons. "Aahh!" one of the opponents screamed, unable to bear the pain from the man's stab.

The ruthless man's face remained steady, his sharp eyes staring at his opponents lying on the ground, their bodies weak after the fierce battle. Fresh blood flowed from the wounds on their bodies, stark red mixing with the dust covering them. His bloodstained knife dripped onto the ground, creating a silent yet resonant sound in everyone's ears.

"If you want to challenge Dragon, measure yourself first," he said with a heavy voice, wiping the blood off his knife with the edge of his opponent's shirt. His voice held a mocking and arrogant tone, making his opponents feel humiliated.

"Boss," one of Dragon's members, who had been fighting alongside him, approached, his face sweaty and breathing heavily. "They've been taken down, and our other brothers have started attacking the enemy base. Their boss is there too. This time they won't escape," the member reported confidently.

Hearing this, he smiled cynically, as if he could already feel victory in his grasp. "Wipe them out tonight," he ordered coldly and firmly, without a hint of mercy.

The man, known as Wilson Zavierson, now 41 years old, still looked young and handsome. He was the leader of the Dragon Mafia, famous in the underworld.

Under Wilson's leadership, the Dragon Mafia had defeated many other mafia groups. Each victory further solidified the group's position as the strongest in the dark world. Of course, this made Wilson a highly respected and feared figure by many. Behind his cold face and sharp gaze lay intelligence and strategy. He could control and organize his members' every move well, ensuring they always completed their missions perfectly.

In the middle of a spacious luxury mansion, there was a boy about five years old who seemed to be running around with joyous laughter. The handsome child appeared to be enjoying the freedom he felt at the moment, outsmarting several adult men who were his bodyguards. He weaved, crawled under tables, and jumped onto sofas with agility.

The bodyguards tried hard to catch the boy, but they were always a few steps behind. Their faces showed concern, but they couldn't help but smile at the child's cheerfulness. Meanwhile, the household staff watching from a distance were also worried that the child might fall or bump into something. They didn't want the child to get hurt because of his sometimes unpredictable mischief.

"Hehehehe!" the boy's laughter echoed throughout the room, making the atmosphere more lively and cheerful. The bodyguards and household staff had to work harder to watch and protect the child because they knew that if the child got hurt, the consequences they would face would be much more severe.

"You guys will never catch me," the boy teased as he threw his toys, scattering them across the floor.

"Young master, how about taking a break for a bit? Your father will be home soon," one of the bodyguards named Luis suggested.

"Uncle Luis always loses to me," the boy said, glaring sharply at his bodyguard.

Meanwhile, two housemaids, overwhelmed, took a moment to rest.

"Does the young master have another personality?" one of them whispered to her friend.

"Why do you ask that?" her friend replied.

"The young master often changes his mood. Sometimes he's quiet and cries suddenly. Now he's active and too energetic again," she answered.

Not long after, a beautiful woman with blonde hair wearing a short pink dress arrived at the mansion.

The boy stopped his game and stared sharply at the uninvited guest. He stood upright with his hands on his hips. "Who are you and who are you looking for? Why come uninvited?" the boy asked firmly and suspiciously.

The woman smiled sweetly, trying to ease the slightly tense atmosphere. "Are you Wilson's son?" she asked gently.

The boy frowned, "Who my father is, is my private life. You shouldn't ask," he replied firmly and a bit angrily.

Luis whispered to the boy, "Young master, the correct word is 'privacy,' not 'privosi.'"

The woman then approached the boy and said, "I apologize for my sudden visit. My name is Molly, a good friend of your father's. I just wanted to check on you. May I know your name?" Molly asked.

"Our young master's name is-," Luis was about to reveal the boy's name, but the boy swiftly interrupted him. "Oops, Uncle, don't tell her my name is Vic Zavierson. This lady just wants to get close to Papa. One of the nineteen-tailed foxes," the boy said sarcastically, glaring at Molly.

Luis chuckled, "The young master has already revealed his own name."

"Why didn't you stop me? This is negligence on your part as a bodyguard!" Vic said loudly, not wanting to lose this argument.

Molly smiled slightly, trying to lighten the mood, "Vic Zavierson is a wonderful name," Molly praised sincerely.

But Vic looked at Molly coldly, "You don't need to praise me; my name is indeed great. I am the smartest and most handsome child. But I know your intentions, so don't pretend to be nice to me," Vic said firmly, still unable to accept Molly's presence in their lives.

"Vic, I just want to be your friend," Molly pleaded, trying to win the boy's heart.

"Don't waste your time! There's no opening for a red chicken here." Vic mocked, referring to the woman's hair color. "Please leave! My dad already has a woman more beautiful than you. So, lady, please go!" Vic said firmly.

"Red chicken? Who do you mean?" Molly asked.

"Uncle, get this lady out of here!" Vic ordered sternly.

Following their young master's command, the bodyguards immediately escorted the woman out of the house.

"There's always a lady trying to get close to Papa. Why is my dad so handsome and rich? As his son, I must always keep an eye on him. So no one can replace my mom!" Vic grumbled.

Soon after, Wilson returned to his mansion. As he stepped inside, Wilson was greeted with the sight of various toys scattered across the floor. Vic, realizing his father's return, eagerly ran towards the stern-faced man who was staring sharply at the scattered toys.

"Dad..." Vic exclaimed with a cheerful face. However, Wilson couldn't hide the aura of anger now surrounding him.

"You made a mess with your toys like this! Put them back where they belong!" Wilson ordered firmly, pointing at the scattered toys.

"Did you defeat the enemies again, Dad? Why didn't you take me with you?" Vic asked.

"You're only 5 years old, what can you do?" Wilson asked mockingly.

"Don't underestimate me, I am the cutest and strongest child. I can replace you as an underworld mafia," Vic replied.

"The correct term is 'upper-class,' not 'underworld,'" Wilson corrected.

"Dad, earlier a lady named Molly came looking for you. I already sent her away because I didn't like her. In this world, only mom deserves to be your wife," Vic said enthusiastically.

Wilson smiled sadly, gently stroking his son's hair. "Do you miss your mom?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Dad. When can we see her?" Vic asked hopefully.

"Soon! I also have another surprise for you! Pack your things, and we're going to California!" Wilson said as he headed towards the stairs.

"What surprise, Dad? And why are we going there? Tell me quickly, my heart can't take it. Don't make me so curious I overdose!" Vic pleaded, chasing after Wilson.

Wilson paused for a moment, glancing back at Vic with a mysterious smile. "We're going to see your mom, and that surprise... hmm, you'll find out there. Now, go pack your things!" Wilson said excitedly.

As Wilson climbed the stairs, he thought to himself, "Six years have passed. It's time to take back what's mine!" he mused.