HEATED REVENGE ON THE MAFIA DON

CHAPTER 1 THALIA POV. THURSDAY 7pm. (19th) I shoot him in the exact same spot I stabbed him seconds ago. “For my parents.” The sound of my pistol reverberates through the lounge as Carlos’s blood pools on the tiled floor. The same way he decorated the walls of my home six years ago. His lifeless body splatters blood on my Cesare Paciotti heels—the ones I’ve been saving for this exact moment. When I finally murder the Don of Viper Lane. Not yet. But soon. ###OUT OF DAYDREAM# “Thalia!” Henry’s voice crackles through my earpiece. I blink, refocusing on the rooftop ledge where I’m positioned. Below, Carlos and his men load sacks from Swallow Now lounge into a waiting vehicle. “I’m here.” I snap a photo of the man exchanging money with Carlos and send it to Henry. “That’s Sebrine clan’s top client.” Static punctuates his words. I zoom in, capturing two more shots of the transaction. “I know. A reason to fuel his anger when he finds out Carlos stole his top client.” Defeating Viper lane isn't an easy task. The bastard have fame, power & domination across all underworld. So I aim to stir rift amongst other powerful mafia. People capable enough to challenge him. I lower myself from the roof after the courtyard empties, leaving only five of Carlos’s men guarding the van that's stationed in the backyard of Swallow now. Perfectly hidden from regular clients “Forwarding to Sebrine now.” Keyboard clicks filter through the earpiece. I walk towards my car, staying perfectly hidden in the dark. My equipment goes into my car trunk. I spray cologne and check my reflection in the car window, clearing dust and loosening my hair from its bun. “You’re playing with Damien tonight, right?” “Yes.” My chest tightens as adrenaline courses through me. I’m finally getting closer. After six years: the first two spent training in combat, jujitsu. The remaining four spent learning Krav Maga, more fighting skills while hunting & scraping together information on a man who exists nowhere online. The bastard might as well be a ghost. Until four months ago when I found out Carlos visits here sometimes. I started coming, playing chess with anyone who’d sit across from me, waiting for Carlos to notice. The bastard never did. He either spends his time in a room I’ve been barred from entering or sits while men & women throw their bodies at him. I almost gave up hope Until two weeks ago, when Damien: Carlos’s right hand watched me dismantle three opponents in a row and proposed we play tonight. “THALIA!” The crowd at Swallow Now erupts as I step inside. Someone’s already claiming the seat across from me. “Let’s see how good you are.” Rain, one of Carlos’s men, drops his stakes on the table. I glance around. No sign of Carlos or Damien yet. “Sure.” Eighteen minutes later, Rain’s king lies on its side. “You’re as good as they say.” My breath stops as I look up. Damien every bit opposite of the criminal he is. He settles into Rain’s abandoned seat, already placing his stakes on the table. Thirty minutes into the game, I know he’s good. Calculated. But I’m better. “Who taught you how to be this good, nena(little one)?” I don’t answer. My attention is on the man seated eight feet away. Carlos. He’s been watching for twenty minutes now, observing as I dismantle his right hand at chess. “Checkmate.” I tip Damien’s king over with one finger. “Wow.” He shakes his head, exhaling smoke toward the already hazy ceiling. Carlos gaze still burn so I give in to look. Legs wide apart, back against the cushions of a two-seater sofa, occupying space like he owns it. Cigarette smoke circles him like incense burned around an idol. Venom rises in my throat. My vision tunnels. All I can see is him. All I can feel is the weight of the scissors in my purse, the gun at my ankle, the six years of training that Vaughn and Marcus drilled into me for exactly this moment. As if reading my murderous thoughts, he puffs smoke my way. "It's been a boring play" Damien teases and I avert my gaze from Carlos “See you never, little one.” I throw his earlier nickname back at him as we shake hands. His smile holds genuine amusement but I'm not deceived. I collect my winnings and turn toward the exit, letting my hair spill over my shoulders. “Please, one more round, Thalia!” “Find me a better player!” I call back. I take three steps toward the exit. Three steps toward fresh air & freedom. Until a wall of muscle blocks my path. Orio. One of Carlos’s enforcers. More bark than bite “Did I…” I blink twice then gulp “Forget something?” Young & scared, that’s what they expect from a young woman facing down a man quadruple her size. “My boss wants to see you.” My pulse jumps. Is this it? An invitation to his office? His home? “Don’t look too eager. He caught you staring before,” Henry warns “And I still prefer you piss him off a little. You’re bad at seduction.” I exhale, then lift one eyebrow at Orio. “I’m sure he does.” “NOW.” he barks “Your boss can come to me, not send his underling.” I turn toward the door, ignoring his glare. Come to me, Carlos. I’m not like the men who stutter at your presence or the women who beg for your attention. Well, I’m begging for it. For him to want me for a quick f**k in his home, his hotel, his office. Or his dungeon, anywhere I can plant the cameras buried in my bag. Orio grips my arm. Before I can pull away, every hair on my body stands at attention. The silhouette of a man overshadows me from behind. The lounge goes quiet and Orio salutes, before letting go of my arm. “Play with me.” Three words. A direct command. No elaboration, no asking. Just the absolute expectation of obedience. The voice is deep & smooth, like honeyed whiskey, laced with boredom & authority. I turn slowly, pulse pounding in my ears as I face him. Carlos Terrius. Don of Viper Lane My heart slams against my ribs, trying to escape. Or warn me. “You’re?” I question as I force myself to meet Carlos’s eyes. He remains still, like stone. “That’s my boss!” I ignore Orio’s barking & study Carlos openly now. He’s more commanding in person than through my camera lenses. Six-foot-three of lean muscle. Tattooed trunk branches wind up his neck, disappearing beneath his collar. “So you’re the incapable boss who sends others to do his work?” The lounge goes silent & I realize my mistake. The words escaped before I could stop them. Sharp, edged with the bitterness I couldn’t suppress. “Exactly what I forewarned” Henry chuckles Carlos’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?” And this is where I die. Two of his men approach with steps that promise bloodshed, but Carlos raises one hand & they freeze instantly. Henry is right, seducing him isn’t possible. “Well, I hope you’re good at chess,” I say softly. He tilts his head & widen one eyes “I’ve had enough men lose their money to me, so I don’t play with beginners.” A dry chuckle escapes Carlos & my throat goes dry. He doesn’t explode as expected. Instead, he bows his head and smirk. When he looks back up, his eyes are pure darkness. “I was hoping you’d repeat yourself,” he remarks, voice rough & piercing. There’s nothing pretty about him. He looks dangerous. Murderous. Amusement vanished from his expression. If the tattooed branches winding up his neck isn’t enough of a warning, his piercing eyes are enough to make anyone run. “That you’re an incapable boss or a beginner?” Hands in pockets, he moves & I hold my breath. Three strides of purposeful, predatory rage. His hand shoots up to my throat, constricting air instantly. My vision blurs while I grip his hand on my neck “What a very brave way to invite a deep, painful death.” Here we go.