Mafia Wars: His Sweet Angel

The traitor

CHAPTER 10/12

The heavy footsteps come in contact with the floorboards, making me shiver badly in the little closet I'm hiding.

The monster is wearing a black glove, with firm fingers wrapped around the hilt of the bloodied dagger.

There's a faint whimpering voice, and soon he finds the voice's owner. She's a girl — barely 14.

He drags her out of her hiding place. Her shrieks are loud and painful to the ears. I watch him lift his hand in a menacing slow-mo, and then he buries the blade deep into her heart.

No!!!! My screams are unending.

I jump out of the bed, panting heavily. f**k! My body is covered in sweat. My grip on the sheets is f*****g tight. My heart is racing like a marathon. It's always like this after the nightmares.

Those damn nightmares! It's been over a decade. Why can't they stop haunting me? I have intense insomnia because of them. I haven't slept in nights, and just this one night I try to, they still surface.

Countless therapies worth millions, and I'm still not free of them. It's beginning to feel like I'm never gonna be free. I'm gonna be haunted like this all my life.

The knock on my door has me snapping out of my thoughts. Like a damn robot, I switch off my vulnerable, flustered side. Whoever it is out there can't see me looking so panicked, so scared…so…broken.

The knock grows insistent. I take one more deep breath.

“Come right in,” I say, taking quiet, deep breaths.

The door opens and Marcelo steps inside. Of course, he's the one knocking. The other guys don't have permission to come knock on my bedroom. Except they got a death wish.

“Boss,” Marcelo bows.

“What is it?” I ask impatiently.

“The boys found Idris.”

The news instantly lifts my mood. “Where is he?”

“In the living room. They're waiting for you.”

“Be right there.”

Marcelo bows and leaves. I get off the bed, grab a coat, and drape it over my shirtless body.

I head downstairs, and just like Marcelo said, the men are gathered in the living, and my runaway traitor is kneeling, with his traitorous face down.

“Look who decided to visit,” I taunt, joining the crew. The boys bow in unison.

Idris looks up and horror wraps his face. It's a face that’s been on my wanted list for a while now. A face that I once considered family.

“Vi…Vi…Vicious…”

“You had me combing the whole country, looking for your tiny ass, man. What the hell?” I suck in my teeth, eyeing his pathetic frame with a disgusted lump in my throat.

“Vi…Vicious please…” he sputters in tears. Isn't it too early to start crying? I haven't even done anything yet.

“From California to Italy, you've been everywhere, man. Except where you're supposed to be. Here, telling me who the f**k you leaked the information to.”

This motherfucker used to be part of our family. Until he sold off top-secret information about one of our biggest drug houses.

We got brutally robbed, I lost a couple of good men that night, we lost almost everything in that warehouse (worth billions) and he disappeared. It's been over three months now. I've been haunting down his ass because I need to know what bastard he made the alliance with.

“Please…spare my life, Vicious. I beg you! I…I…didn't do it. I swear!”

“The hell you didn't!” I grab the gun from one of my men, pointing it to Idris. His mouth snaps shut instantly, as he stares horrifyingly at the gun.

“I lost all my patience haunting down your ass. I don't have any right now. So you're gonna tell me what I need to know. Or I'm gonna excruciatingly squeeze that information out of you. Decide!”

“Please…” his cries grow louder. But I don't feel any ounce of pity. Instead, I feel a vapid anger, coursing down my veins. The urge to blow out his brain is deepening.

“You got five seconds to start talking.” I warn gravely, “Or I'm gonna put a damn hole in your bloody ankle.”

“No, please…I'll…I'll tell you.” His cries die down. I can see he's trying to say something. He better not lie to me.

“f*****g speak!” I bellow, releasing a bullet but it lands very close to where he's kneeling. He gasps in fright and his panic grows. “I'm not gonna be so merciful again,” I warn, c*****g the gun.

“It's…it's…him. It's…Don Ferguson!” Idris cries out, bowing his head. “Please have mercy on me, boss. Please…”

Ferguson? A ghostly chill ran down my spine.

“He…he said if I didn't give him the information, he'd kill my family. I had no choice, boss. Please spare my life!”

My rage intensifies and in the next second, I pull the trigger, gracing Idris’ body with tons of bullets. Until he's lifeless and bleeding profusely on the floor.

He signed his death the moment he betrayed me. But it wouldn't have come this quick if he had betrayed me to some other motherfucker. Someone who isn't Ferguson.

Selling me off to Ferguson is the most treacherous thing anyone can ever do to me. And I don't care if he did it for his family; those men who died that night had families, too. His betrayal is f*****g inexcusable.

“Clean up this mess.”

“Yes boss,” the men go around his pool of blood to drag his body.

“Boss,” Marcelo whispers behind me. I glance at him and he nods in a direction.

I follow the gesture and my heart drops at the sight of Jasmine. She's standing on the stairs, watching Idris' corpse with horror-struck eyes.

Who the f**k let her out?

Our eyes lock and the fear in hers is raw. She takes an unconscious step backward and almost trips.

“Be careful!” I say, almost running to her. Isn't it crazy how f*****g protective I am of her when we've barely spoken?

She quickly gets on her feet and starts running upstairs. I shove the gun into Marcelo's arm and race after her.

She gets to her room and slams the door. I get to the door and pull the doorknob but it won't open.

Dammit!

“Hey! Jasmine!” I slam my hand hard on the door.

“Go away!” She replies.

The hell I should!

“Open up, please. We need to talk!”

“I don't wanna talk to a monster like you. I just need to go back home. I wanna get out of here!” she cries out.

I slam harder on the door and let out a frustrated hiss. I can't leave her alone. Not after what she saw. She may do something crazy. Or she may…she may hate me. And I'll be damned if that happens.

“Boss,” Marcelo makes his presence known.

“Get me a spare key. Now!”

“Sure, boss.” He runs off to get it.

Her voice comes up again. “If you don't let me go, I'm gonna…I'm gonna…I'm gonna jump off the balcony!”

“You're not gonna do that. Don't you dare. Just stay calm and let me explain. Do you hear me? Stay f*****g calm.”

I'm as raged as I'm scared. I don't know her quite well so I'm not sure if she's crazy enough to push through with her threat. But damn, I hope she's not. I really hope she's not.

Where the hell is Marcelo?!