Alexandra Greyjoy : Cassano
1080 Words
Don Cassano POV:
I stared at my reflection, the scars etched on my face a testament to my reputation.
They called me Cassano, a name synonymous with fear.
Others whispered Grim Reaper, the most ruthless Mafia enforcer.
For years, I served Master Alessandro Esposito, loyalty and honor guiding my actions.
But fate had other plans.
Alessandro's death changed everything.
His heir, Leonardo Esposito, sought to claim the throne.
He wanted me by his side, but I had rules.
I didn't bow to anyone.
Least of all, Leonardo.
Our meeting ended in a bloody fight.
A war ensued.
I was betrayed.
My most trusted men, Vito and Salvio, set me up.
A bullet tore through my skull.
I should have died.
But fate had other plans.
I woke up in a hospital, a bullet lodged in my brain.
Less than 5% chance of survival.
I gaze out into the darkness, my mind consumed by the ghosts of my past. The weight of my reputation settles heavy on my shoulders.
The Grim Reaper.
Devil incarnate.
Wanted by many.
I've lost count of the lives I've taken, the families shattered, the futures extinguished. All for the Esposito family's empire.
But now, I need help.
A doctor who can salvage what's left of my shattered existence.
My eyes scan the documents before me, each bearing the name of a renowned neurosurgeon.
Dr. Avery Neurosurgeon extraordinaire...
Dr. Maya Jensen...
Dr. Julianne Lee...
Each name represents a potential lifeline.
And a potential threat.
Trust is a luxury I can't afford.
Not with the FBI hunting me.
Not with rival families gunning for my head.
Not with my own men turning against me.
Vito and Salvio's betrayal sears my mind. Friends. Brothers. Traitors.
My gaze locks onto one name
Dr. Sophia Thompson.
Neurosurgeon.
Intracerebral hemorrhage specialist.
she's compassionate and dedicated.
I watched Dr. Sophia Thompson from the shadows, studying her every move. She rarely ventured out, preferring the safety of her own space. I waited patiently, biding my time.
The opportunity arose, and I seized it. I kidn*pped her.
"Will you save me, Dr. Sophia?" I asked, my voice low and urgent.
She trembled, her eyes fixed on Luca's lifeless body.
"Y-yes," she stammered.
Fear danced in her eyes.
"Good," I said, nodding.
"Clean this up," I ordered my men, gesturing to Luca's body.
Vito and Salvio moved swiftly, removing the evidence of my wrath( Luca).
Sophia's gaze followed them, her face pale.
I nodded toward the adjacent room. "Wait in there, Dr. Thompson. My men will bring you food."
Sophia hesitated, then complied.
As soon as she disappeared from view, Vito approached me.
"Boss, do you trust her?" he asked, his voice low.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Trust? No."
Vito's expression turned skeptical.
"Then why—"
"I don't trust people," I clarified. "I trust what they can offer."
Vito nodded, understanding.
"In this case, her expertise."
He glanced toward the room where Sophia waited.
"And if she betrays you?"
My gaze hardened.
"Then she'll suffer the consequences."
Vito's expression turned grim.
"Like Luca."
I nodded.
"Exactly like Luca."
My phone rang, shrill in the silence.
"Pronto?" I answered.
A torrent of Italian spilled from the speaker.
"Dove sono? Cosa sta succedendo? Non potete fare nulla senza di me?"
(Where are they? What's happening? Can't you do anything without me?)
I recognized the voice - Marco, my loyal lieutenant.
My response was curt.
"Sono occupato. Arrivo subito."
(I'm busy. I'll arrive soon.)
Marco's curses flowed freely.
"Maledetti! Non potete fare nulla senza di me!"
(Damned fools! Can't you do anything without me?)
I ended the call, my expression grim.
Vito raised an eyebrow.
"Trouble?"
I nodded.
"Marco's on his way."
Vito's face turned serious.
"Think he'll be a problem?"
I shrugged.
"Don't know."
"Vito, stay here with Dr. Thompson," I ordered, my voice firm.
Vito nodded, his expression serious.
Sophia Pov .
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering in the cold silence of the room. The image of Luca's lifeless body haunted me, his eyes frozen in terror. Cassano's ruthless efficiency had left me breathless.
How could someone take a life so casually?
I'd never witnessed violence like that before. The sound of the gunshot still echoed in my mind.
My gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape. But Vito stood guard outside, his presence a reminder that I was trapped.
Cassano's words replayed in my head: "I don't trust people, I trust what they can offer."
What did he want from me?
Why did he need my expertise?
Fear clawed at my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I thought of my colleague and my best Friend before this nightmare.
Would I ever see them again?
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
No, Sophia, don't break down.
You need to think.
You need to survive.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts.
The door creaked open, and Vito entered with a tray.
"Food, Dr. Thompson," he said gruffly.
I forced a nod.
"Thank you."
Vito's expression softened slightly.
"You'll be okay."
But I knew better.
In Cassano's world, no one was safe.
I lifted my head, alerted by the sound of a car engine roaring to life outside. Cassano's departure?
Vito's gaze flicked toward the door, his expression changing.
"Stay here," he ordered, exiting the room.
I waited until the door clicked shut behind him.
Then, I sprang into action.
My heart racing, I rushed to the window.
Parting the curtains, I peered out.
Cassano's sleek black car disappeared from view.
As I sat trapped in this opulent prison, my thoughts betrayed me, drifting back to the man who held my fate in his hands. Cassano, the Grim Reaper, a moniker that sent shivers down my spine.
But it was his eyes that haunted me. Eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets, a thousand pains. Eyes that made me question the monster he was rumored to be.
Fear and revulsion wrestled with an unwanted pang of concern. Why did I care about the man who'd ripped me from my life? Who'd taken everything from me?
My heart raced as memories of Luca's brutal execution flooded my mind. Cassano's trigger finger had ended a life with chilling ease.
Yet, in his gaze, I saw a glimmer of desperation. A man racing against time, clinging to life by a thread.
My medical instincts screamed warnings. His brain injury was a ticking time bomb, waiting to unleash devastation.
- Writer
