MY MYSTERIOUS MAFIA

CHAPTER 12 - BLOOD AND BETRAYAL

The office reeked of gunpowder, sweat, and iron. Each breath scraped my throat raw. Smoke slithered through shattered glass, curling around Antonio’s grin like it was conjured just for him.

“Tonight, you lose one,” he said, smooth as venom.

His words were still tearing through my chest when Diego groaned. My brother’s body sagged in the grip of masked men, his swollen face unrecognizable, his shirt painted red. He was alive, but every second dragged him closer to death.

Behind me, Isabella’s shallow breaths trembled. Her hand clutched at the back of my shirt as if I were her only lifeline. She shouldn’t have been here—shouldn’t have seen any of this. But Antonio had dragged her into my hell because he knew where to cut deepest.

My gun hand trembled, not from weakness but fury. My heartbeat thundered like a war drum, each pulse screaming for blood.

“Tick-tock,” Antonio mocked, checking his watch like we were nothing but entertainment. “You’ve always been pathetic at choosing, sobrino. As a boy, it kept you alive. Tonight, it will bury you.”

The barrel of my pistol rose a fraction, aimed straight at his skull. My finger curled tighter, my teeth grinding. But even as rage blazed through me, a colder truth pressed against my ribs: Antonio wouldn’t stand this close if he wasn’t already certain of the ending. Pull the trigger, and his men would cut Isabella and Diego down before his body hit the ground.

Isabella whispered my name, soft, broken. That sound cracked me more than any bullet could. I shifted, stepping in front of her, my arm stretching back to shield her as if my body could stop Antonio’s bullets.

Antonio’s smirk sharpened. “Ah. The woman. Predictable.”

The words slithered under my skin. He wanted me to break. He wanted me to prove him right.

“You want me,” I snarled, forcing each syllable through my teeth. “Then take me. Leave them.”

He tilted his head, eyes glittering. “No, sobrino. This was always about blood. And yours will be the offering.”

His hand rose.

Gunfire erupted.

The room convulsed in chaos. Windows exploded into shards, sparks rained from torn wires, and shadows in black poured through the smoke. Antonio slipped behind them, watching like a vulture while his men bled for him.

I shoved Isabella hard toward the desk, my body blocking her. My gun barked, one, two, three—men dropped in sprays of crimson. Every bullet I fired was a vow: they would not touch her.

But then I saw Diego being dragged toward the exit. My chest split open. His body stumbled, resisting with what little strength he had. My roar ripped through the room:

“Diego!”

I fired—one captor dropped instantly. The second jerked Diego upright, an arm locking around his throat, pistol pressed to his temple.

“Drop it or he dies!” the man barked.

Antonio’s voice slithered from the smoke: “Choose your brother. Lose your woman. Choose your woman. Lose your brother. Either way… you break.”

For a heartbeat, the boy Antonio had left alive clawed up inside me—the boy who froze while his parents bled. That boy whispered I couldn’t win.

But I wasn’t that boy anymore.

I rolled low across the glass-strewn floor. Bullets screamed overhead. Smoke burned my eyes. I came up steady, rage guiding my aim. Two shots rang out. The captor’s skull snapped back, blood spraying.

Diego collapsed with him. I lunged, catching him before his head hit the floor. His blood soaked into my shirt, hot and endless.

“I’ve got you, hermano,” I rasped, my throat raw. “You’re not leaving me.”

His eyes flickered open, the fire still there even in his broken body.

Then Isabella’s scream split the air.

I turned.

She was slumped by the desk, blood flooding between her fingers where Antonio’s bullet had torn into her side.

The world stopped moving.

“No…”

Antonio stepped from the smoke, his pistol still smoking, his smile carved like a scar. “So fragile,” he murmured. “So human. And yet she bleeds more for you than anyone ever has.”

Rage exploded in my chest. My hands shook as I set Diego against the wall, forcing him into shadow. He tried to grab my arm, whispering something, but his body failed him.

I rose, fury igniting every vein.

“Antonio,” I growled, my voice shredded into something unrecognizable. “I swear on their blood, I’ll end you.”

He smiled, lifting his gun again, calm as if the room wasn’t a slaughterhouse. “Just like your father,” he said. “Reckless. Weak.”

The name cut me deeper than the bullet ever could.

My gun snapped up. I fired.

The shot grazed Antonio’s cheek, spilling a line of blood. His men gasped, but Antonio laughed—a hollow, soulless sound.

“You almost had me,” he said softly. “Almost.”

His hand flicked.

Gunfire swallowed the room.

Bullets shredded desks and ricocheted off concrete. The room transformed into a battlefield. I dropped behind cover, firing back with precision, every shot carving my fury into their skulls.

But there were too many. Too many shadows crawling from the smoke.

Isabella cried out again, her voice thin and broken. I risked a glance. Her skin had gone pale, her blood a spreading pool. Her trembling hands pressed against the wound, but crimson spilled faster than she could stop it.

Panic crushed my lungs.

Diego. Isabella.

I couldn’t lose either.

My gaze cut toward Diego, slumped against the wall, dragging himself with trembling arms. He gripped a shard of glass like it was salvation, his eyes locked on Antonio. Bleeding, dying, but still fighting. Always fighting.

Antonio stepped forward, his own gun raised, his eyes never leaving mine. Calm. Amused. Certain.

“Choose,” he said.

No.

Not tonight.

I surged from cover, unleashing a storm of bullets. Men dropped one after another, their screams drowned by the thunder of my rage. Smoke burned my lungs, but I kept moving—roll, aim, fire, reload. Each shot carried me closer to Isabella.

Antonio’s smile faltered. Just slightly. For the first time, I saw it—a flicker of surprise.

Good. Let him see. Let him understand.

I reached Isabella. She was slipping, her breaths shallow. Her eyes fluttered open when I touched her, wide and glassy.

“I… trusted you,” she whispered, her voice cracked and fragile.

“You still can,” I rasped, pressing my hand over hers to stem the flood of blood. My chest clenched so hard I thought my ribs might shatter. “Stay with me, Isabella. Please.”

Her lips parted in a ghost of a smile before pain bent it into a grimace.

Another bullet shrieked past my head. I spun, returning fire, shielding her with my body.

Then Diego dragged himself forward, each movement agony. He raised the shard of glass in his fist, his eyes blazing with fury, fixed on Antonio.

My brother. My blood.

Antonio raised his gun, his aim settling on me.

The world narrowed into a single second. One breath. One choice.

I brushed my lips to Isabella’s forehead. “Hold on for me.”

Then I stood. My gun was steady. My fury was unbreakable.

“Antonio,” I said, my voice cutting through the storm, “this ends now.”

His smile curved, cruel and eager.

“So be it.”

We raised our guns in the same breath.

And fired.