The Diabolical Mafia Lord: The Crimson Vendetta

Episode #1( The Breaking Point )

Another sleepless night just might drive me insane. The night rides in on a horse of pure midnight velvet, beckoned by the stars under the glow of a full moon. As the colors of the day rest, perhaps dream of the morrow, the hillside becomes its monochrome beauty, shapes that make an ever-changing, ever-present puzzle, question and answer united.

I rub my hands together for warmth as the dark cold night beckons me to start shivering. I inhale and exhale deeply and heavy clouds of mist form as my warm breath meets the cold air. I can taste the coldness in my mouth.

All of a sudden, the plaintive wail of the baby filled the air, my eyes traveled on the crib, but her wail fell deaf on my ears.

My gaze returned to catching the scattered nighttime drops of dew as they were illuminated by the pale light of the moon. And again, the baby’s quavering cry seemed to fill the room. It is a blizzard of sound swirling around me, numbing me, and behind it, over it, above it, all around it is the other sound: the sound of a baby screaming. Of my baby screaming.

I slowly walked over to the crib, the soft cries of my baby guiding me through the dimly lit room. Gently, I picked her up in my arms, her tiny body warm against mine. I sway softly, whispering soothing words into her ear, trying to calm her down. Gradually, her cries subside, replaced by soft coos and the occasional hiccup.

Once she's calm, I take a moment to study her closely, taking in her tiny features. Her buttoned nose, her rosy cheeks, the soft tufts of hair on her head. But it's her eyes that caught my attention. And they remind me of him. Of Alastair de Monray. The same intense gaze, the same color. It's like looking into a mirror of the past, a reflection of a man whose presence still sends chills to my core.

I vividly remember the day I came across those pairs of...eyes… dark soul less, no emotion just the darkness which trapped me inside.

TWO YEARS AGO...

The crisp late-September air nipped at my throat, leaving a chill that seemed to penetrate my very bones. I pulled my cardigan tighter around my shoulders, seeking comfort in its worn fabric. I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for the last bus that goes to the city center.

I swallowed and blinked a few times, the tears drying up as if I regretted losing control. My expression tightened as if all of my facial muscles were holding in my emotions and only just managing to contain them.

For as long as I can remember, pain and fear have been my constant companions. Not the kind of fear that makes your heart race during a horror movie or a rollercoaster ride, but a deeper, more insidious fear, the kind that settles into your bones and becomes a part of your DNA. My mother was the architect of this fear. I tiptoed around her expectations, my steps measured, my voice hushed. The home was both a shelter and a prison.

But today was different. Today, I stepped out of that prison. The tension at home had reached a breaking point. After what I heard, I couldn't bring myself to stay in that cage any longer, around those people who gave me nothing but pain.

I was traumatized, I was weighed down by my mother's words. I was just scared. An evil little creature that wouldn't have shown up on any X-rays was living in my chest, rushing through my blood and filling my head with whispers, saying I wasn't good enough, that I was weak and ugly and would never be anything but broken. I would never deserve happiness in my life.

Today, at twenty-four, I defied the script. My rebellious heart urges me forward. For the first time, I chose myself, making the biggest decision of my life. One that would change everything. I had reached my limit; I would no longer be a puppet controlled by my mother.

With only two hundred fifteen dollars in my pocket, I left that house, swearing never to return to that prison again. A few minutes later, the bus arrived and as the bus door opened, a gust of cold air hit me. I stepped up onto the aisle and looked around. The bus was chilly, a little colder than I found comfortable. I took a seat near the back, close to a window. I put my hood on to become invisible. The bus ride was not too long.

I sighed heavily, as I wondered what my life would be like without any rules and restrictions and I would spend my rest of life with Tyron, and we would fulfill every dream that we dreamed together. And no one would sperate us ever again.

Soon, the bus stopped at my destination and I hopped out of it after paying for my ride. As I stepped onto the cracked pavement, my senses were assaulted by the raw reality of this neighborhood. Prostitute, homeless and drug addicts were roaming the streets freely.

I averted my gaze, feeling both pity and fear. Alcoholics stumbled along the sidewalk, their breath reeking of cheap liquor. Empty bottles clinked in plastic bags, their lives distilled into intoxication. I fastened my pace until I reached the club.

" CLUB THIRTEEN: EUPHORIA ENCLAVE "

The name of the nightclub was written in bright red neon lights. I glanced at the line stretching far down the sidewalk, an ocean of bodies pressing against one another, all desperate for entry. I realized that there was no way I could wait that long. Not tonight. I need to see tyron now. I needed his arms around me, his voice telling me everything would be okay, that I wasn’t crazy for doing what I just did. But how I am gonna get inside?

My eyes darted at the entrance and where a bouncer was standing. He was a hulking man with arms thicker than my waist, I pushed and shoved people out of my way to be able to reach him and people were gaurting and glaring at me when I passed them but I ignored them all and finally made it to the front. He barely looked at me as I approached, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses even though it was night.

"Hey, I need to get inside." I said to him.

"Do you have an entry pass?" He asked me.

"Umm... No?" I replied.

"Sweetheart, then no entry for you."

"Just let me in. I’m not here for the club, I am here to meet my boyfriend. He works here."

"Do you think I would believe you? You know, every day hundreds of people come here and lie about all kinds of s**t just to get inside."

"Are you accusing me of lying?" I asked him in disbelief. And he crossed his arms on his chest, and it was clear he wasn't going to believe me.

"Please, trust me, I am not lying to you. I swear to God. I just need to talk to him," I replied.

"No entry without a pass, sweetheart. Rules are rules. And even if you do have a pass, I still wouldn't let you go inside because you didn't dress up according to the dress code. Now move along." He replied.

"No entry without a pass, sweetheart. Rules are rules. And even if you do have a pass, I still wouldn't let you go inside because you didn’t dress up according to the dress code. Now move along." He replied, his voice dripping with disdain.

It hit me then. I glanced down at myself and realized what he was talking about. I was wearing a knee-length light brown dress, paired with a gray cardigan, and chunky black boots. It wasn’t flashy or glamorous like the others waiting to get in, not even close to the sleek, skin-tight outfits or high heels that seemed to be the club’s unofficial uniform. I looked more like I was ready for a casual walk than a night at an exclusive club.

"Please, I..." I pleaded, but he didn't let me finish my sentence and cut me.

"I said no. Move." His words hit me like a punch to the gut. And I realized that he wouldn't budge, and I swallowed my frustration, my mind racing for a solution. That’s when I spotted a group of glamorous girls and their boyfriends, laughing and chatting as they strolled toward the entrance. A stupid idea crept into my head.

I moved closer, my pulse quickening as I eyed the closest girl. I reached out and gave her a quick pinch on the bum. She yelped, spinning around, her face flushed with anger and confusion.

"What the hell?" she snapped, her eyes darting around before she locked onto the bouncer. "It was him!" I said and pointed my finger at him.

The girl boyfriend didn’t hesitate. He stormed toward the bouncer, grabbing him by the shirt, shouting curses in his face. The bouncer, caught off guard, tried to shove him back, but it was too late. The boyfriend swung a punch at his nose.

Chaos erupted.

People were started screaming, and security came rushing in from all sides to break up the fight. In the middle of the shouting and shoving, I took my chance. While everyone was distracted, I slid through the crowd, slipping past the velvet ropes and went inside before I looked back apologetically at the mess I'd just created.

" I am sorry, please God forgive me." I thought.

As I enter the nightclub, I was immediately engulfed in a sensory overload. The pounding beats of the music reverberate through the air, shaking the walls and floors with their powerful force. The dimly lit space is filled with a kaleidoscope of colorful lights, flashing and swirling in time with the music. The combination of music and lights creates a mesmerizing and hypnotic effect.

The dance floor was the focal point of the nightclub, where bodies move in perfect sync with the pulsating rhythm of the music. The energy is palpable as the crowd moves as one, their bodies swaying and gyrating in a mesmerizing and intoxicating dance. My eyes shifted to the bar, my gaze scanning everyone faces to find Tyron. But then my eyes landed on a familiar face...