The Mafia Don’s Sons Knelt Before Me

I staggered forward, my heartbeat pounding so loud it drowned out everything else. My lungs burned, but instinct pushed my body onward. One step. Another.

Closer.

Closer to the gate.

Freedom was right there. I could almost touch it.

And then—

THWIP.

The sound sliced through the air, followed by a savage eruption of pain in my thigh. A ragged scream tore from my throat as my body folded, crashing against the hard ground.

I looked down through blurred vision and saw it: a thick dart, barbed and cruel, buried deep into my leg. Blue sparks crawled along the wire attached to it, hissing and crackling as electricity tore through my veins.

A shock dart.

My muscles convulsed violently, every nerve screaming as if my body itself was being incinerated from within. I writhed, twitching helplessly, the agony so fierce it blurred the edges of the world into a spinning haze.

I collapsed in a broken heap, the gate—freedom—just meters away.

So close.

So devastatingly close.

Above me, echoing across the courtyard, came Cole’s victorious laughter—razor-sharp and merciless.

“Well, look at that,” Liam drawled, his voice carrying a lazy, mocking amusement. “She nearly made it. Nearly.”

Their boots crunched against the gravel, their footsteps slow, deliberate, as if savoring the moment.

Then another voice cut through the night, booming and furious.

Adrian.

His roar carried pure rage, but I was already slipping under. My body shook with aftershocks of pain, my limbs jerking uncontrollably. Darkness crept into my vision, swallowing the courtyard, dulling the fire in my nerves into a numbed, hollow ache.

The last thing I heard before the world went black was Adrian bellowing my name, as though shouting it could drag me back to him.

---

The next time my eyes opened, harsh fluorescent light stabbed down from above. It flickered unsteadily, like it was mocking me.

Adrian stood at the foot of the bed, arms folded across his chest, his shadow stretching long. His expression was unreadable—until the corners of his lips twisted upward in a faint, cruel smirk.

“You really thought those words would mean something?” he said, his tone low, edged with amusement. “Did you believe the boys would look at you differently? That they’d call you their mother?”

My throat burned, raw from earlier screams, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My body still trembled, shuddering with lingering jolts from the electricity.

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing like blades cutting into me. “They don’t believe you. They never will.”

A humorless chuckle slipped from his mouth. “You should’ve seen them when they told me about you. They laughed at you, Valeria. Laughed like you were nothing but entertainment. A sideshow.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight.

Adrian stepped closer, the temperature of the room plummeting with his presence.

“This… this is the price you pay,” he said, his voice suddenly hard and cold, each word a nail hammered into me. “For daring to harm my child.”

His eyes burned with conviction, and then the blade twisted deeper.

“My child with Bianca.”

The words hit harder than any dart.

I clenched my fists, the restraints digging painfully into my skin, metal biting against flesh. He didn’t care. He never cared.

“You’re nothing now,” he murmured, his tone almost soft, but dripping venom. “You’re a shadow. A problem I should’ve erased long ago.”

Then, with a sudden shift, his voice became mocking again—silk covering steel.

“But…” He tilted his head, lips curving. “If you’re ready to crawl, to beg, I might grant you mercy. I’ll let you out of this bed, let you sleep in a guest room instead of being locked in the vault like the rat you are.”

He let the silence stretch, savoring it.

“All you need to do is say it. Say you’re sorry. Say Bianca is better. Admit you were jealous. Admit you were nothing but a mistake.”

He smiled as if he’d just offered me salvation.

Then he turned and walked out, slamming the door shut with finality.

And I was alone again—strapped down to a hospital bed in Adrian’s private clinic. The air reeked of antiseptic and control. Two guards loomed outside the door, ready to follow his orders without hesitation, even if it meant putting a bullet in me.

Pain radiated through every limb, but I refused to shed a single tear. Crying wouldn’t save me. Not anymore.

Time slipped away—minutes, maybe hours. The sterile lights buzzed overhead.

The door opened again. This time, it wasn’t Adrian.

A man in hospital scrubs walked in, clipboard in hand. He didn’t meet my gaze, just muttered curtly, “We need her for a CT scan.”

One of the guards blocked his path. “She’s not leaving unless—”

The man snapped open his badge, flashing credentials too quickly to challenge. “Direct orders from Adrian. You want to be the one explaining to him why she missed her imaging?”

The guards exchanged a wary glance, then stepped aside.

The man wheeled my bed out into the hall. The corridor stretched long, walls blindingly white, lights humming overhead.

The elevator doors slid open. Once we were inside, away from prying eyes, the man finally leaned closer.

My heart stopped.

“Damien?” I rasped, my voice hoarse with disbelief.

His lips curved into a tight smile. “Took you long enough to recognize me, sister.”

Shock rooted me in place. I couldn’t form words.

Then, from his pocket, he produced a small set of keys and a scalpel.

By the time the elevator doors opened again, the restraints were gone. I was standing on my own legs, weak but upright, cloaked in a coat he’d slipped around my shoulders. Together, we slipped through the service exit unnoticed.

The night air hit me like a tidal wave of freedom.

I don’t remember where Damien took me—only that it was far enough, safe enough.

For days I lay in his apartment, healing. My body screamed with pain, every bone and muscle demanding rest. Nightmares clawed at me, dragging me back into darkness every time I closed my eyes.

But I was alive.

Alive—and blazing with rage.

One night, staring up at the cracked ceiling, I whispered into the silence, “I’m going to make them pay. For all of it. The lies. The twins. Adrian. Bianca. Every scar they carved into me.”

Damien’s eyes, steady and sharp, met mine. He nodded once. “Then we begin. No more chains. No more cages.”

I turned toward him, my voice stronger than it had been in weeks.

“I’ll go back,” I said, certainty hardening every syllable. “But not as their victim.”

I paused, my eyes cold, my blood steady.

“I’ll return as their reckoning.”