STOLE MAFIA'S HEART

I dare you

CHASE BANKER

Managing multiple businesses across various cities can be incredibly taxing. I find myself on a jet every day, attending meetings and interacting with individuals who, in their desperation, approach me for loans. Unfortunately, many of them disappear with my hard-earned money, leaving me seething with anger.

I am well aware of where each of these individuals resides; no one can exit the city without my associates informing me. Do not waste your time reporting me to the police. If you have connections to the nobility, don’t even think about approaching the government. And if you are affiliated with a gang, forget seeking assistance from your leader, for ultimately, everyone answers to me.

I consider myself the most powerful man in existence. Not even drug lords can shield you from my influence. I embody both a devil and a monster; I am the harshest of them all, and people revere the ground I walk on. Thus, think wisely before you incur a debt with me.

The most substantial debts I have encountered arise from three companies in New York City. I often ponder how they fail to manage their businesses effectively. How can one trust another, or more precisely, trust employees with finances?

I trust no one. I have no friends, not even my own family. My closest associate knows better than to betray me. In fact, I don’t even trust my own shadow, so why would I extend trust to anyone else?

When Ella Mai visited my mansion—a rare occurrence—I was taken aback. I was in my office, preparing to check on my grandmother's well-being. How bold of her to come to my personal residence, a place where few dare to tread. Yet, I found that quality admirable. It seemed she had heard the stories about me—true tales—and still had the courage to knock on my door, which I respected.

I allowed her guards to enter my home. When I say she has guts, I mean it; she came on behalf of her father to negotiate with me. Despite my icy demeanor, she offered to work two jobs to repay me, unaware of the magnitude of her father's debt. Those jobs would scarcely begin to cover what was owed. If she had engaged in dealing or taken on five jobs, perhaps then she could have made a dent in that debt.

Her savings and double shifts would not suffice to clear what her father owed, so I had to decline her offer. However, I admired her resolve, especially when compared to her feeble father or younger brother.

My grandmother, a wise woman, overheard our conversation. She intervened, sensing my cold attitude towards Ella. What astonished me even more was when Ella asserted she could heal my beloved grandmother. That glimmer of hope prompted me to strike a deal with her, despite the uncertainty surrounding its success. Little did she know that repercussions awaited her entire family.

I must confess that Ella has a way of captivating me repeatedly. First, she dared to visit my home, and then she boldly claimed she could heal my grandmother.

Traveling to New York City posed no challenge for me, as I had numerous matters to attend to. However, my primary concern revolved around my mother and her desire for a daughter-in-law.

My mother introduced me to Olga, proclaiming her to be the perfect match for me and asserting that we belonged to the same social circle. Who cares about social status? I couldn’t care less. I longed to marry a woman who would bring joy to my life, someone who could make my heart race. I wanted a partner who would inspire me to abandon my work to spend time with her.

I may appear cold, but deep down, I am still searching for someone who will love me for who I am, not for my wealth or status. Unfortunately, many women have disappointed me, chasing after affluent men and luxurious lifestyles. I would not mind if my partner came from modest beginnings, as long as she loved me more than what I could provide.

Olga, however, is the woman I detest. She eagerly anticipates my decisions, treats me like a child, and even enters my bedroom without any modesty, revealing her lack of class in the process.

I cherish my mother, yet I do not desire a woman who throws herself at me or seeks attention. Nevertheless, my mother is insistent, declaring that I will marry Olga, as she has already made arrangements with her parents. This infuriated me, prompting me to retreat to the other side of the city and warn my mother that if she brought Olga to my mansion, both she and Olga would face dire consequences.

Since then, I have learned that my mother continues to inform Olga that I am cold but will eventually come around, which means Olga remains at our family mansion.

Other day, I took Ella to her parents' mansion. Her father had the audacity to suggest I would turn his daughter into a prostitute. How dare he challenge me in such a manner? I may be cold, but I am not so heartless as to force an innocent woman into such circumstances. In my club, individuals come voluntarily, not by coercion. They beg me for the opportunity to work there, yet many indulge in drugs, which I don’t mind as long as they come willingly.

Ella, however, deserves someone who will cherish her and love her properly. That person, in the end, would be me.

I instructed Ella to pack her belongings while I spoke with her family. She hesitated, but I did not give her the chance to refuse. I confronted Mr. Mia, warning him that if he ever suggested such things again, he would deeply regret it. I made it clear that he needed to either willingly let Ella go or prepare to lose his mansion and cars.

This plea made him beg for mercy, and as I smirked at his pathetic display, I thought of Ella and asked for a whiskey to shield her from witnessing her father's humiliation—it would break my heart to see her in that position.

Ella was astonished to see us conversing normally when she came downstairs. Jacob's wife handed Ella some herbs as we exchanged goodbyes. I instructed my driver to take me to the club while returning Ella home.

Upon entering the club, I was set to meet with Patrick Carter. After exchanging pleasantries, we settled into our seats. The meeting became tedious, revolving around finances. Just when we reached an agreement, that fool had the nerve to mention Ella, disparaging her and her family while claiming he would make her his slave.

That provoked my fury.

I struck him hard in the face, sending him sprawling from his chair. In the chaos, his brother lunged at me with a knife, stabbing me in the stomach, igniting pandemonium throughout the club.

My men quickly escorted me out through a back exit and into my car, taking me to my family mansion.

It was late when I entered my bedroom, seeking solitude to nurse my wounds. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing Ella. I didn’t want her to see me in such a state, so I aimed a gun at her, but her gentle words weakened my resolve. I allowed her to help me.

That woman seemed as if she wanted to devour me, her gaze lingering on my half-naked form, shame. She tended to my wound, and through my groans of pain and complaints, I eventually blacked out.

When morning arrived, I recalled the events of the previous night and immediately checked my stomach. The pain was less intense than I had anticipated, considering the nature of a knife wound.

A smile crept across my face as I thought of Ella.

I decided to thank her, even though it is not in my nature to apologize. To my surprise, I found Ella in tears. I attempted to lighten the mood with a joke, but the situation escalated, causing her to flee the room in distress.

Moments later, I heard a slap and rushed to see what was happening. There was Ella on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks, while my mother loomed over her like a predator.

"I DARE YOU, MOTHER. SLAP HER AGAIN AND SEE WHAT I WILL DO WITH THIS GUN." I shouted, pointing my weapon at her.