The Mafia Don’s Sons Knelt Before Me

Packing what little belonged to me became the last tether to survival. Each second I lingered, the air in this cursed mansion thickened, suffocating me with ghosts of memories that should have been sanctuary. None of it mattered anymore.

I yanked the suitcase from the bed, dragging it down the staircase, every thud of its wheels against the wood reminding me this was real—reminding me I was about to sever the final tie. I needed to be gone yesterday. My fingers brushed the doorknob, freedom just inches away, when her voice snapped through the silence like a whip.

“Don’t you dare move!”

Bianca.

She stood at the top of the staircase like some cheap actress, trembling as though fragile, cloaked in false purity. But her eyes betrayed her — wild, manic, gleaming with something venomous.

“Running away already?” she jeered, lips curling into a smile that was more barbed wire than warmth. “What’s wrong, Valeria? Can’t stomach seeing everything that used to be yours? The man you let slip through your hands?”

I looked at her, my face an empty mask, my heartbeat steady. No tears. No fury. Just nothing.

She slinked down the stairs, each step drawn out like a predator circling prey. “You know,” she whispered, sharp as a blade, “last night Adrian didn’t even say your name once. He screamed mine. Over and over…” She giggled, the sound nauseating. “He begged me to carry his son.”

I blinked. Just once. That was all. It was enough to rattle her. She faltered, confusion flickering in her painted face. She craved my breakdown—my screams, sobs, begging. Instead, she got marble.

That’s when she struck.

She gasped sharply, stumbling forward like a damsel in a staged tragedy. In a single, sweeping motion, she pulled a small knife from beneath her dress and plunged it against a blood pouch sewn into her fabric. Crimson bloomed across her stomach in an instant, staining her pale skin, spreading wide and theatrical. Her shriek tore through the halls like a banshee’s cry.

“She stabbed me! SHE STABBED ME!” Bianca shrilled, collapsing onto the floor in a heap, writhing in manufactured agony.

I didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just watched her with hollow eyes.

The thunder of boots rattled the floorboards. Adrian burst into view, shoving his men aside, his expression wild with panic when he spotted her.

“What the hell is going on?!” he roared.

“She—” Bianca wailed, pointing a shaking finger at me, “SHE DID THIS! If you really love me, make her pay. Or I swear—” she gasped dramatically, clutching her stomach, “—I’ll disappear forever. I’ll take our child and you’ll never see us again!”

Adrian’s face twisted, a storm of fury and madness. He didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

“Seize her!” he bellowed.

Hands like iron clamped onto my arms, jerking me backward. My suitcase toppled, the crash echoing through the marble foyer.

“LET ME GO!” I screamed, thrashing against their grip, my throat raw with desperation. “I never touched her! I never touched her!”

But my words bounced uselessly off deaf ears. No one ever listened. Not to me.

“Get Bianca to the hospital!” Adrian barked. His soldiers swarmed her, cradling her like fragile porcelain, while I was dragged like a dog to slaughter.

Bianca peeked over Adrian’s shoulder, her wet cheeks stretched into a wicked grin of victory.

I gave her something at last—just not what she longed for. I smiled, cold, sharp as glass.

“You’ll choke on those lies, Bianca,” I said, my voice slicing clean through the chaos. “And when you do, remember—you begged for it.”

Her mask cracked.

Good.

But before I could savor the moment, pain exploded across my face. CRACK. Adrian’s hand, heavy as a hammer, struck me sideways. My head whipped violently. The taste of blood filled my mouth, metallic and sharp. I coughed once and spat crimson onto the pristine marble. Silence devoured the room.

Even Bianca flinched.

Adrian towered above me, chest heaving, fists still balled as though he longed to strike again.

“You’re nothing,” he growled, his voice venom wrapped in ice. “A worthless stain I should’ve erased from this world years ago.”

Blood dripped from my mouth as I wiped it with the back of my bound hands. And I smiled—bloody, defiant.

“This stain,” I rasped, “is going to destroy you.”

The cuffs dug deeper into my wrists. But I no longer resisted. This wasn’t surrender. This was declaration. This was war, and it was only beginning.

---

The Lucci council sat before me like an unfeeling jury of stone. And then came my sons—Liam and Cole. My twins. My blood.

They stepped forward, voices steady, swearing they had seen me try to murder Bianca. Their testimony was smooth, polished, each syllable laced with poison. Lies that had been rehearsed until they were second nature.

“You’ve gone too far, Valeria,” Adrian pronounced, his voice colder than any winter. “You’ve become a danger. And this is the price you’ll pay.”

Before I could reply, his men dragged me again, hauling me like a carcass down endless halls. Toward the underground vault. A tomb for traitors. A place no one ever returned from.

The door slammed shut with a metallic clang, sealing me in. Darkness swallowed me whole.

Time unraveled—hours, days, weeks? Meaningless.

All that existed was the dark. And then—the sounds.

At first, faint sobbing. A girl’s voice, fragile and distant. Then whispers, slithering through the air, dozens layered upon dozens. Some I almost recognized. Others not at all. None of them right.

And then—the chanting. Low. Guttural. As though demons themselves crawled upward from the pit of hell to sing in my ears.

The voices seeped into me, threading under my skin. I clawed at my scalp, shrieking for silence, but the vault only hurled my screams back at me, warped, louder, monstrous.

Footsteps cut through the madness. Deliberate. Steady.

The lock turned. The door creaked.

Liam and Cole entered.

Their grins were carved from cruelty. Two devils walking into the cage of their plaything.

“Well, well,” Cole sneered, eyes glowing with malice. “Look at the rat in her trap.”

“You really thought you could get away?” Liam tilted his head, his voice mocking, dissecting me like prey beneath glass.

The lights flickered. Their silence stretched. Then Cole lifted a small device in his hand and pressed a button.

The speakers screamed alive with sound.

A little girl crying—“Mommy, please, stop!”

Then laughter—my laughter—warped, reversed, twisted until it no longer sounded human.

Then more crying. Layered. Hundreds. Thousands.

I stumbled backward into the corner, trembling.

“Why are you doing this?” I gasped. “I’m… I’m your mother. Not Vivienne. She stole you from me.”

They froze. For a breath.

Then Liam burst into a laugh so cruel it echoed like glass shattering.

“Our mother?” he spat.

“If you were our mother, I’d rather slit my own throat,” Cole snarled. “What a disgusting joke.”

“Nice try, rat,” Liam sneered. “You’re rotting down here already.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I forced the words out. “I carried you. I named you. They renamed you when they took you, but I know who you are—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Liam snapped, his voice a lash. “You’re not real. You’re just a phantom we conjured to test how much filth we could endure.”

Cole leaned close, his breath icy at my cheek. “Say that again,” he whispered, deadly calm, “and the next sound you’ll hear will be your skull breaking.”

Their laughter chased them as they left.

The door stayed unlocked.

They wanted me to flee. A new game. A fresh torment.

With a snarl, I forced myself forward. Rats clung to my legs, biting deep, but I didn’t stop. Blood ran down my calves. My lungs burned raw. But I shoved the door open and stumbled into the corridor.

I staggered through the halls, half-falling into the courtyard. For one fleeting heartbeat, I was free. The gate stood there, so close I could taste it.

Then I saw them.

Liam and Cole. Waiting at the gate like executioners, grins carved into their faces.

“You really thought you’d make it out, didn’t you?” Liam called, his tone dripping with false pity.

Cole raised something from behind his back. A weapon. Heavy. A rifle—except not for bullets.

No, they wouldn’t let me die. Not yet.

“Run, little mouse,” Cole taunted, leveling the weapon lazily. “No matter how far you go, we’ll always catch you.”

My heart thundered so violently I couldn’t hear my breath. My body still moved. One step. Then another.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer to the gate.

I almost reached it.

Then—

THWIP.