MY DANGEROUS LOVE IN THE MAFIA

In a dimly lit room filled with anguished cries and pleas to end the torture, a young man sat in a chair, sipping his champagne while watching an older man being brutalized by his henchmen.

The older man was a German mafia boss who dared declare war against the young Italian mobster Darius Vallerio. Vallerio was infamous for his ruthlessness and swiftness in dealing with anyone who dared deceive him.

That older mafia boss was Triston Feroanus, now bound tightly to an old chair with chains. His body was covered in whip marks and cuts, too weak to fight back. Triston repeatedly begged for mercy, but Darius, true to his nature, did not grant mercy to his enemies.

Darius stood up, lighting a cigarette, and leaned down to stare into Triston's weakened eyes. He blew a thick cloud of smoke directly into Triston's face, causing him to cough.

"Triston Feroanus, how dare you wave the flag of war against me, huh?" Darius asked his face close to Triston's.

"You know what happens when you try to mess with me, don't you? It's not just you who suffers at my hands but also your family," Darius continued, his sharp gaze piercing Triston's eyes.

"Please, don't hurt my family. Kill me if you must-they know nothing," Triston replied, tears streaming down his face. He regretted deceiving Darius by buying his gun with counterfeit money.

"I don't care," Darius said coldly, straightening up before pressing his lit cigarette against a fresh cut on Triston's hand. Triston screamed as Darius applied even more pressure to the wound with the cigarette.

Darius ended his act, returning to his seat and sipping his champagne again.

"Gaston!" Darius called, summoning his trusted right-hand man, who promptly entered with a respectful bow.

"Bring me my laptop with the live call to Triston's family," Darius ordered, and Gaston obeyed.

Triston shook his head in desperation, looking at Darius with pleading eyes.

"Please, Darius-" Triston began, but Darius cut him off sharply.

"Don't speak my name with your filthy mouth. Call me sir," Darius replied, taking another sip of champagne.

"Sir, please, don't harm my family. They're innocent," Triston begged, bowing his head in tears. Gaston returned with a laptop, placing it on the table before Triston.

"Daddy, help me, Daddy!" cried a little girl, around seven years old, on the screen. Triston wept as he looked at his daughter, bound to a chair with her hands and feet tied, just as he was.

"Aaarrghh, Daddy!" the child's scream echoed from the other side of the screen.

"Julia!!!" Triston shouted as he saw Darius's men whip his little girl. They were actual heartless monsters.

"Sir, please release them," Triston pleaded, his gaze fixed on Darius, who wore a cold, twisted smile.

"Don't count on it," Darius responded.

"Gaston, have them kill Triston's family. I don't want him to suffer any longer," Darius commanded, and Gaston followed his orders.

Gunshots rang out.

"Daddy!!!" the little girl's scream filled the room, but it didn't last long before... BANG!

"Triston!!!" His wife's voice came next, full of fear, and shortly after, BANG! Silence fell. There were no more screams from the other side of the call-only the final cries of his wife.

"Nooo!!!" Triston screamed, consumed by agony and rage. His eyes filled with tears, but he was helpless.

"Now it's your turn," Darius said with a devilish grin. Triston resigned himself to his fate. Darius took a wine bottle, pouring it over Triston's wounded body.

"Arrrggghhhh!!!" Triston screamed as the alcohol seeped into his wounds.

"Enough playing around," Darius declared, drawing his gun and shooting Triston in the head, killing him instantly.

"Burn him!" Darius ordered his men, then walked out of the torture chamber to clean up.

Darius entered his room, heading straight to the bathroom. Under the cold water, he closed his eyes. He remembered a young girl, around 10, treating a wound on the head of a 17-year-old boy. That boy had been Darius himself.

Back then...

A beautiful girl sat on a park bench, clutching a teddy bear and crying. Darius had been watching her, her long jet-black hair falling over her tear-streaked face. He walked over to the little girl and knelt before her.

"Why are you crying?" Darius asked. The little girl looked up, her red, tear-filled eyes meeting his. Darius was captivated by her beauty.

"Who are you?" the girl asked innocently.

"I'm Darius Valerio," he answered with a genuine smile, a rarity, but the girl was lucky to see it.

"Why are you crying?" Darius asked gently.

"A mafia killed my parents, but I managed to escape," the girl replied, bowing her head and crying again. Darius clenched his fists, furious at whoever had disturbed this little girl's peace. At that moment, he claimed her as his own. Darius had been a mafia since he was 16, taking over after his father's murder.

"Why were they killed?" Darius asked again.

"My father accidentally scratched the mafia's car with his bicycle. He couldn't afford to pay for the damages, so they killed him along with my mother and brother." Darius gritted his teeth in anger.

Would someone kill this girl's family over such a trivial matter? I will avenge her, he vowed.

"What's your name, little girl?" Darius asked.

"Luna Marcelli," she answered. Suddenly, a rock struck Darius's head, drawing blood.

"Hahaha..." five boys laughed as they threw rocks at Darius.

"Hey, go away!!!" a girl shouted. It was Luna, wielding a wooden plank, and the five boys quickly ran off in fear.

"Are you alright, Darius? You're bleeding a lot. Come to the orphanage, I'll treat your wound," Luna said, and Darius nodded. She carefully led him along. Luna took off her blue sweater, pressing it against Darius's head.

"My mom says that if the bleeding doesn't stop, you have to cover it with cloth," Luna explained as she pressed her sweater to his head. She stretched to reach his height, but seeing her struggle, Darius took over and held the shirt himself.

When they arrived at the orphanage, Luna rushed inside while Darius sat on a bench in the garden. She returned with a first aid kit and sat beside him.

"Um, could you sit down here so I can reach your wound? You're too tall," Luna said innocently, and Darius nodded. Sitting down, he let Luna treat his wound with care. When she finished, Luna blushed and smiled shyly.

"Why are you smiling?" Darius asked, his brows knitted.

"You've been staring at me," Luna replied innocently. Darius just smiled and patted her head.

"I have to go now. Thank you for treating my wound. See you." Darius stood up.

"See you," Luna replied, waving.

...the memory faded, and Darius returned to the present.

Darius finished his shower, quickly drying himself before heading to his walk-in closet to dress. He slipped on a casual t-shirt, the image of a ruthless mafia slipping away, replaced by a relaxed, unassuming look.

He grabbed his car keys from the nightstand and left his room. Taking the stairs with a brisk pace, he called for Gaston.

"Gaston," Darius called out as he entered the living room.

"Yes, sir?" Gaston replied respectfully.

"Is Luna at her apartment?" Darius asked.

"No, sir, Luna-"

"Call her 'Miss,' Gaston," Darius corrected him sharply.

"My apologies. Miss Luna is out; your men who are stationed to watch her reported that she's not in the apartment," Gaston replied.

"Where is she?"

"At a bookstore, sir." Darius headed for the garage, intent on following her. He knew Luna's favorite bookstore by heart.

.

.

.

A young woman, Luna Marcelli, wandered through the bookstore aisles, her gaze searching for a specific book. After nearly twenty minutes, she spotted her sought-after title on a shelf a few steps away.

"Yes! Found it!" she exclaimed excitedly, making her way to the cashier. But when she reached into her pocket, she panicked, realizing she'd forgotten her wallet.

Oh no, I forgot to bring money, she thought anxiously.

"Here, Miss." Luna turned to see a man beside her offering to pay for her book. Dressed in a deep maroon shirt, his warm smile was met with Luna's hesitant one.

"I figured you might have forgotten your money," the man said.

"You really didn't need to," Luna replied, taking the bag containing the book or the book the man had purchased for her.

"It's no trouble at all," he replied warmly. They walked out of the bookstore together.

"Would you like to stop at a café?" he suggested. Feeling the man seemed trustworthy despite meeting him only moments ago, Luna nodded.

They settled into a seat at the café, and the man flagged down the waiter to order.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" asked the waiter, ready to take their orders.

"One iced cappuccino," the man said, turning to Luna.

"What?" Luna asked, surprised.

"Aren't you getting something?" he asked.

"I-"

"I'll pay," he said, assuming what she would say.

"One cola float," Luna told the waiter.

"Very well, please wait a moment," the waiter replied, heading off to fulfill their order.

"Oh, by the way, I'm Zachary," the man introduced himself, extending his hand. Luna smiled, shaking his hand in return.

"I'm Luna Marcelli," she replied.

They didn't realize they were being watched from a distance by someone following them since the bookstore. Darius grinned slightly in a black cap and mask as he learned the man's name.

"Zachary," he muttered with a smirk.

"Would you like to be friends, Luna?" Zachary asked, though Darius, seated behind her, could overhear the conversation. Darius's grin widened as Luna responded enthusiastically.

Would you still want to be friends if you knew everything? Darius thought to himself, his smirk growing darker. He let her have her friendship with Zachary-for now. Pulling out his phone, he texted someone before leaving the café.

Once he was gone, Luna's phone chimed with a new message. She opened it, frowning at the strange words displayed on her screen.

...

From: +33147xxxxxx

Hi, Luna. I hope you don't regret befriending him.

...

The mysterious message, of course, came from Darius, though Luna had no idea. Even the apartment she currently lived in had been provided to her by Darius through the orphanage's director, as had her phone.

Luna worked as a cashier at a minimarket to support herself. She had been alone in the world ever since her family's tragic murder.

"Is everything okay, Luna? Something wrong?" Zachary asked, noticing her momentarily lost in thought.

"Oh! It's nothing-just some spam text saying I'd won a prize. But that can't be true; I never enter those things," she replied, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

"Don't fall for stuff like that," Zachary said with a smile.

I hope I won't regret befriending him. He seems like a good guy, she thought.

After finishing her drink, Luna stood. "Well, Zach, I should head home now. Thank you for the treat today," she said with a warm smile.

"You're welcome," Zachary replied, standing as she prepared to leave the café, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Let me give you a ride home," he offered.

Luna shook her head, smiling. "There's no need, Zach. My apartment is close by," she declined gently.

"Don't refuse; think of it as my thanks for accepting my friendship," he insisted. They walked to his car, parked just outside the café. Zachary held the door open for her.

"Thank you," she said, getting in as he settled into the driver's seat. Zachary drove at a moderate speed.

"Do you live alone, Luna?" he asked, glancing at her briefly.

"Yes, just me," she replied.

"Oh. But you have family, right?" Zachary asked again.

"I'm all alone now. My family was murdered, and I was the only one who escaped," Luna answered, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, Luna. I didn't mean to make you sad," Zachary said with regret, taking her hand in his with a remorseful expression.

"It's okay. I just get emotional sometimes," she replied, wiping her tears as Zachary gave her a sympathetic smile and refocused on driving.

Zachary's car pulled up in front of the apartment building, which looked relatively upscale. He was momentarily surprised by the luxury of her apartment.

"This was a gift from the director of the orphanage I stayed in," Luna explained, noticing Zachary's curious expression. He nodded in understanding.

"Alright, I'll head in now. Thank you again for the book and the ride home," Luna said, smiling toward the building lobby.

"You're welcome," Zachary replied, watching her go.

.

.

.

Darius entered his mansion swiftly, his footsteps heavy with tension.

"Gaston!" he called out loudly.

Gaston, hearing the command, approached with a cautious expression. "Yes, sir, is everything-"

"Tell your men to keep an even closer watch on Luna. My girl is currently 'befriending' a low-life," Darius interrupted, barely containing his anger.

"Yes, sir," Gaston replied, bowing respectfully as he went to carry out Darius's orders.

"Berta!" Darius called for the head maid of the mansion, taking a seat on the couch in the living room.

"Yes, sir?" Berta responded deferentially.

"Bring me a bottle of vodka," he ordered.

"Right away, sir." Berta left to fulfill his request.

Soon, Berta returned with a tray holding a bottle of vodka. Darius took it, opening it roughly and taking a deep, aggressive gulp. Right now, Darius was seething with jealousy and anger. The sight of his girl with another man stoked his possessiveness and rage, but he restrained himself-just for now. The game wasn't over, not yet.

.....