The Mafia King's Obsession

20 YEARS AGO

ROMERO

I knew something was wrong before I even heard anything. It felt like the air inside the house had changed.

It felt thicker, heavier, almost like it was warning me to run even though I had no idea what I was supposed to be running from. My heart kept beating fast for no reason, and I didn’t understand why but I was about to.

Then I heard it.

“I won’t ask you again, where is that child, Lisa?!”

The voice wasn’t just loud. It was angry—so angry it made the hair on my arms stand up. My heart jumped so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I froze. For a second, I couldn’t even breathe.

And then I heard her.

“I’ll never tell you where he is… you can go to hell,” my mother cried.

The sound of her voice broke something inside me. She wasn’t just crying... she was sobbing. The kind of sobbing that came from someone terrified and fighting at the same time. Her words were shaking. Her breath was shaking. Even her cries sounded like they were breaking apart before they left her throat.

I ran to the window so fast I almost slipped. My hands were shaking so much I had to hold the window frame to steady myself. I peeked outside and my stomach dropped.

Two men were dragging my mother, pushing her, holding her by the hair. She tried fighting them off, but one of them shoved her so hard she nearly hit the ground.

I covered my mouth with both hands. I felt like the whole world was spinning around me.

That child they were looking for…

That child was me. And I couldn’t understand why. Who were these men? What did they want? What did my mother ever do to them?

Before I could blink, she pulled free from them and ran toward the house. She stumbled through the door so fast she almost fell. Her eyes were red, swollen, full of fear, full of tears. She looked like she was carrying the whole weight of the world on her shoulders—and the weight was crushing her.

“Mom—” I started, but she grabbed me before I could finish.

“Romero,” she breathed out, her voice cracking. Her hands were trembling as she held my face, running her shaking thumbs over my cheeks. “Baby, listen to me. Please. Please listen carefully.”

She was crying so much she couldn’t keep her vision straight. More tears rolled down her face, dropping onto my shirt like little hot raindrops.

“Mom, what’s going on? Who are those men?” I asked, my voice already shaking.

She took a sharp breath, the kind that sounded like it hurt her lungs.

“I don’t have time to explain. Oh God… oh God…” She brushed her fingers through my hair, still crying. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry that this is happening.”

Her apology made my chest squeeze painfully.

She wasn’t scared for herself.

She was scared for me.

That made everything worse.

She grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the corner of the room. She moved so fast she almost slipped on the floor. I didn’t even know there was something hidden there until she opened a small wooden panel in the ground.

A cabinet. A hidden one.

She pushed it open with shaking hands.

“Get in,” she said, her voice breaking as she looked me in the eye. “Please, Romero. Don’t argue. Don’t ask questions. Not now.”

“Mom, please don’t leave me—”

“I’m not leaving you,” she whispered urgently, pressing her forehead against mine. “I’m protecting you.”

Her tears fell freely. She held my shoulders with both hands, gripping me tight like she was afraid I would slip away.

“You stay inside here. Do you understand me? No matter what you hear, no matter what happens… do not come out.” Her voice cracked so hard on the last word I thought she was going to collapse.

“I’m scared,” I whispered. I could barely hear my own voice.

“I know,” she sobbed. “I know, baby. But you have to be strong. Please. For me. Just this one time.”

She kissed my forehead. My cheek. My hair. Her hands were trembling so badly she had to wipe her face on her sleeve before she could push me down into the dark space.

“I love you, Romero,” she said softly, her voice shaking like a leaf in the wind. “I love you more than anything in this world. I always have, and I always will.”

My throat hurt. Tears fell from my eyes before I could stop them.

“Mom…”

“Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You just have to stay hidden, okay? That’s all I want. Please give me that. Please survive this for me.”

She pulled the cover over me before I could answer. Darkness swallowed me instantly, but I could still hear everything.

Then I heard the footsteps.

Heavy. Angry. Getting closer.

The door slammed open so hard it hit the wall. I almost jumped out of the cabinet, but her final words echoed in my head: Do not come out. No matter what.

“Where is the boy?” one man growled.

“I told you,” my mother said, her voice trembling but still defiant, “you will never find him.”

“You think we’re stupid?!” the other shouted. “You think we don’t know he’s somewhere here?!”

“I sent him away.” she snapped, breathing heavily. “You won’t find him. Not today, not ever.”

“You’re lying,” the first man said, his voice cold and sharp like a knife.

I tried to peek through the tiny opening in the cabinet. I could see her legs shaking. She was standing in front of them, arms trembling at her sides, breathing fast. She looked like she was seconds away from falling apart—but she refused to let them see it.

“We ain’t leaving without the kid,” one of them hissed.

“Then you’ll be disappointed,” she said, lifting her chin even though her voice broke at the end.

The first blow sent her straight to the ground.

I almost screamed. The sound of her hitting the floor made my heart burst with panic.

“Tell us where he is!”

“No!” she cried.

They grabbed her, dragged her by the arm, and punched her again. Her cry echoed through the room. I covered my mouth, biting into my hand so I wouldn’t make a sound.

“You think we won’t kill you?”

“Then kill me!” she screamed through her tears. “Because I’ll never… never give him to you.”

Her courage made me cry harder. My tears fell onto my knees, silent and hot. I hated the darkness around me. I hated the fear. I hated everything. But most of all, I hated that I couldn’t help her.

They beat her until she could barely sit upright.

They didn’t care she was shaking like a leaf.

They didn’t care she was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

“Last chance,” one man growled, grabbing her by the hair.

“Go to hell,” she whispered, voice barely there.

The knife came out.

I saw the glint.

I saw her eyes widen in pure fear.

And I saw the moment she understood she wasn’t going to make it out alive.

She wasn’t a warrior.

She wasn’t fearless.

She was terrified… but she still refused to betray me.

That hurt more than anything.

They killed her slowly. Cruelly.

I shook violently inside the cabinet. My breaths came out in short gasps. My whole body felt numb. But I didn’t look away. I couldn’t. She was the only thing I had. And they were taking her away from me right in front of my eyes.

When it was over, she fell to the floor, her body limp and lifeless.

I bit down on my hand so hard I tasted blood. My heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand pieces. My entire body was shaking.

One man wiped the knife on his shirt and said coldly,

“Burn it.”

“Everything?” the other asked.

“Everything. No evidence.”

They poured fuel everywhere.

On the floor.

On the walls.

On her.

Then they lit it.

The fire spread so fast I didn’t even have time to think. Flames climbed the curtains, the chairs, the walls. Smoke rushed into the small cabinet, forcing its way down my throat and into my lungs.

I coughed hard, covering my mouth with my hands. The heat pressed against the wooden cover like it wanted to break through and swallow me.

Through the tiny crack, I saw her body slowly becoming surrounded by flames.

My chest hurt so badly I thought it would collapse.

“Mom…” I whispered, my voice cracking as smoke filled my lungs. “I’m right here… I’m still here…”

But she couldn’t hear me.

The house crackled, burned, screamed around me.

The heat grew hotter.

The smoke grew thicker.

The flames grew louder.

I pressed my forehead against my knees, shaking uncontrollably. Tears fell without stopping. My breath kept breaking. The cabinet felt smaller and smaller, like it was crushing me.

But I stayed.

Because I had no choice.

Because she told me to.

And because it was the last thing she ever asked from me.

I stayed there, trapped, choking, crying, shaking, while the fire ate our home… and everything in it.

ROMERO

Church bells were ringing like the world was clean and innocent, like people did not lie through their teeth, kill for money, or sell their own blood just to stay powerful.

They rang so loud I thought my ears would pop.

I hated that sound so much.

The black SUV rolled to a smooth stop right in front of the church, tires crunching softly against gravel. Big place.

Old stone walls, tall pillars, white flowers everywhere like someone tried to drown the building in purity.

Roses climbed up the steps, hung from the doors, and lined the entrance like a red carpet to hell.

Someone spent a fortune on this sh*t.

Too bad it wasn’t gonna end pretty.

I stayed seated for a moment, rolling my neck once, cracking it slowly. Adjusted my cuffs. Smoothed my jacket.

Black suit. Custom. Sharp enough to cut egos.

“Alright,” I muttered. “Let’s crash a weddi