The Mafia Widow's Revenge

Barely had I closed my eyes when the nightmare came rushing back like a vivid vision.

I had gone to Colton’s room to check on him, even though Mother had said he was sleeping soundly.

As I was descending the stairs to join her in the living room, I heard voices — sharp, angry voices — and froze.

"Where's Vito Adrian?" one of the masked men shouted at my mother.

"He… he’s away on a business trip," my mother replied, her voice trembling. She knelt in the center of the large living room, her hands covering her mouth as though it might keep her fear from spilling out.

There were four of them. The one in the middle raised his gun and, without hesitation, shot her twice in the head.

A scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Their heads snapped toward me, and suddenly they were chasing me.

A loud knock at the door yanked me from the nightmare. I jolted awake, panting, my skin damp with sweat. My eyes drifted toward the air conditioner. It was working perfectly, humming quietly in the background.

The knock came again, sharp and insistent, pulling me fully into reality. I pulled my nightwear tightly around me and walked toward the door.

As soon as I opened it, Colton’s figure slumped against the frame. He reeked of alcohol and could barely stand upright.

“I need my car keys and ATM card,” he slurred, gripping the door for support.

“In this condition?” I snapped, disgust curling in my chest.

“And have you suddenly forgotten how to greet your elders?”

Colton muttered something under his breath as he stumbled into my room, collapsing onto my bed.

I sighed, watching him sprawled out, clearly wasted. Lecturing him in this state would be a waste of breath, so I turned and walked into the bathroom.

When I came out, Colton was fast asleep, half of his body hanging off the edge of the bed. I cursed under my breath and carefully shifted him until he was lying properly.

For a moment, I just stood there, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. My mind drifted back to that afternoon—how Colton had cried for our mother without stopping, as though he somehow knew something terrible had happened. He had only been two years old.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t raise you the way Mom would have,” I whispered, brushing my fingers through his soft, curly brown hair.

My hand drifted to the scar on my ribcage—still tender, as if the wound had never fully healed. The doctor had called it a miracle that I survived the knife’s penetration.

I remembered how it happened. One of them had thrown a dagger at me. I hit the ground, gasping for air as blood pooled beneath me. They had left me there, convinced I wouldn’t make it through the night.

The vibration of my phone snapped me out of the memory. Marco’s name lit up the screen.

It was time to go. I dressed quickly, casting one last look at Colton before heading out.

As I stepped into the reception, a flicker of disappointment crossed my mind—Nicole wasn’t at her desk yet. Then again, I had come in thirty minutes before resumption.

“Tell Kane and Jaxon to see me in my office. Now,” I instructed Marco.

“Yes, boss,” he said before hurrying off.

I walked to my desk, settling into the leather chair as I patiently waited.

“Good morning, boss,” they both said in unison as they entered.

My eyes swept over them. Jaxon, with his broad shoulders and the large tattoo snaking down his arm, stood like a predator poised to strike. His chest rose and fell steadily, exuding a quiet but dangerous energy.

Kane, on the other hand, was slender yet muscular, nearly matching my height. He stood with a calm, composed air, the kind of control that could turn deadly when needed.

I had chosen them for a reason. You don’t work for me without meeting certain… standards.

“Kane,” I said, my tone sharp, “from now on, you’re watching Colton. Don’t let him out of your sight—no matter what.”

“Jaxon, you're on Mrs. Russon. Track her every move and, more importantly, protect her with your life.”

“Are we clear?” My voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Yes, boss!” they answered in sync.

I gave a slight nod, signaling the meeting was over, and leaned back, stretching my legs beneath the expansive desk.

After seeing Elena snooping around the basement yesterday, I knew things were about to get complicated. In this business, you don’t go digging unless you know exactly what you’re getting into.

And Elena? She wouldn’t stop until she found the answers she was looking for. But the people behind her husband’s death wouldn’t just sit back and applaud her efforts.

She had no idea the danger she was walking into.