Home Top Ad


Own A Blog Like This
For Questions, Inquiries, Click Here
Page | Group - Follow us - Call us - Submit your Stories - [email protected]




Naijamedialog Pointing Hand

The Mafia's Ruination - Episode 66




The  Mafia's Ruination - Episode 66

Subtitle; {Between Love and War} 

Authoress Rejoice            


Deluxe's POV

It had been close to three hours since Phoebe called Alexander and switched off the phone to avoid being traced, even though it was unlikely. 

"So, he just let you into his house?" She asked for the second time, still finding it hard to believe my story.

"Yes, he did."

"That's so strange. What if you were an enémy?" She paused before adding, "You were an eñemy."

"And your point is?"

"You don't just let random people into your house, especially strangers you meet in a dark alley being attàcked by góons. Didn't you think it was strange?"

I might have made a mistake by telling Phoebe about Alexander and me, as she couldn't stop talking about it. I understand her concern, but I really don't want to think about it right now.

Phoebe shifted on the couch, repositioning herself. "D, I know you did. It's like he wanted that incident to happen, like he needed to 'save' someone."

"Really? I mean, he did come back from killíng someone that day."

"What?!" She exclaimed, shocked. "How do you know that?"

"He told me."

"I swear, I don't know how I'm still friends with you. Your spell must be strong."

I turned my head to the left, picked up a pillow, and threw it at her. She caught it, laughing. "Maybe I should upgrade it."

"You're crazy." She threw the pillow back. "Hey, do you think Damon would still want to be with me if he finds out about your kidnappíng?"

"Okay. Firstly, missy, you and Damon aren't even together yet..."

"Keyword is yet." She interrupted with a cheeky smile.

"Secondly, Damon will probably never want to be with anyone, regardless of gender..."

"He's biséxual?" Phoebe cut me off again.

"I don't know his sexuality, and I honestly don't want to know." I replied, grimacing. "Thirdly, Damon will never find love because no sane person would want to be with him."

"I want to be with him."

"Exactly. You're not sane."

"Hey, show some respect to your kidnàpper. Your life is in my hands, you know."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Your brother is seriously hot. I don't know why you won't admit it."

"Maybe because he's not."

"How long do you think he is?"

"Do you mean tall?"

"No, I know his height." She giggled like a teenager girl in love. "I meant his... you know."

"Ewwwwwwww." I grimaced, feeling disgusted. "I don't need that image in my head."

"Why not? You must have seen it before, by mistake."

"No! Eww! Why would I see it by mistake? That's disgusting, Phoebe."

"Oh, please. If he wasn't your brother, you would want to see it. I know for a fact that you would have a crush on him."

"Well, fortunately for you and unfortunately for me, he is my brother."

"Oh, don't I know it! You need to admit, he would be a great fúck."

"I'm going to throw up." 

We both stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and our laughter subsided as we turned towards it.

Phoebe stood up. "Pizza's here. I'll get it." I watched her walk to the door, and as soon as she disappeared, I picked up the TV remote and turned it on.

Suddenly, I heard a loud thud hitting the ground. Without wasting any time, I stood up to investigate. If I heard correctly, the sound came from the front door, which could only mean Phoebe dropped the pizza boxes.

She is clumsy like that.

I quickly made my way to the door. "Phoebe?" I called out, thinking it was one of her pranks. She didn't respond, and when I saw her lying unconscious on the floor, my heart skipped a beat.

"Phoebe!" I exclaimed, shaking her. "Wake up! This isn't funny!"

"I don't think she can hear you," a familiar voice said from behind me. I turned to see Nicholas Iglesias standing there.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, confused.

"You'll find out," he replied and sprayed something in my face. Within seconds, everything went black, and I lost consciousness.


My eyelids sluggishly fluttered, struggling to open as they felt unbearably heavy. My head, too, seemed disproportionately heavy for my body, and when I attempted to touch it, my hands refused to cooperate.

Suddenly, like a sudden plunge into icy water, the realization hit me. I gasped, the sound exaggerated and panicked.

I had been kidnappéd.

Nicholas Iglesias, Maddie's crush and the only son of the Spanish Mafía, was the perpetrator behind my unfortunate predicament.

Oh my God, this is my first time being kidnappéd. It's kind of fun. 

I strained against the ropes that bound my wrists and legs to the wooden chair. Raising my gaze, I surveyed the room, disappointed to find it devoid of the atmospheric darkness I had expected. There was no single dimmed bulb or small window to cast eerie shadows and dimly illuminate the space.

What an amateur.

This was undoubtedly the worst kidnappíng ever. He couldn't even make it memorable. 

Impatiently, I waited for Nicholas to make his entrance, growing increasingly bored. Finally, he appeared, gún in hand. I quickly forced a terrified expression onto my face, allowing tears to sting my eyes.

"W-why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice quivering on command. Internally, I patted myself on the back for my convincing acting skills

He leaned down to meet my gaze, his eyes devoid of any emotion. "Because my life is ruinéd."

How was any of this my fault?

"You ruinéd my life," he continued.

Oh. Did I? When? How? I couldn't remember.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I stuttered, aiming to feed his ego and make him think he had succeeded in scaring me.

"Of course, you don't. Your father ruinéd my life, and now I'm going to ruín his."

Hmmm. That explanation kind of made sense, I guess.

"J-just l-let me g-g-go," I pleaded, reveling in my successful portrayal of fear.

"I said no!" Nicholas stood up, shaking his head. "Tell me, do you have any preferences regarding how you'd like to díe?"

No, but I had a very vivid plan for how I would be kidnappéd, and he ruinéd it.

"P-p-please let me go."

"You think I'm kidding?" he scoffed.

Ever since I was born, my dad made sure to place some sort of tracking device on me at all times. Right now, I was wearing my favorite beaded bracelets, which, conveniently, also contained a tracking device. With just one tap of my fingertip, my live location would be sent directly to my dad's phone and my brothers'.

Hahahaha. Being the only girl in a Mafía home certainly had its perks.

"W-what did my dad do?" I asked, genuinely curious about what could have happened to ruín Nicholas' life.

"You want to know?" he asked, chuckling darkly. "You're so fuckíng interested in knowing how your goddàmn father ruinéd my life. Okay, fine, I'll tell you!" Nicholas circled the chair I was tied to, attempting to appear intimidating. "First, your boyfriend set my house on fíre, but luckily, it didn't cause any hàrm to my family. But then, as if burñing down my family home wasn't enough, your father decided to brútally múrder them all because of you."

So, that was the firé my mother mentioned. Alexander never even told me he did something about my shoóting.

Okay, maybe I deserved to be kidnappéd, but I still didn't understand how or why it was my fault.

"You're their untouchable pretty little princess that no one can hàrm, right?" Nicholas rhetorically asked, his gaze venomous. "Let's see how they react when they find you deád on the side of the road with no clue as to who did it. They'll have your best friend killéd."

Ah, that reminds me. Phoebe was unconscious. I hope she's okay now. 

"Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, they deserved it?" I asked, my voice steady and resolute.

My vision blurred as Nicholas slapped me across the face. I looked up at him, anger burning in my glare. My cheek stung intensely.

Slaps hurt. Did they always sting like this? I wouldn't know; I had never been slapped before.

Nicholas walked behind the chair and released my bound hands. It was a grave mistake on his part. He also untied my legs. "Stand up."

I complied, standing from the wooden chair and continuing to glare at him.

"Yeah, maybe they did deserve to díe because you were shót by our men, but not in the same way as my family. I had to watch as they slaughteréd my family and my baby sister."

Wait. What?

I had grown fond of his sister, Nova, when I first met her while shopping with Maddie.

"Do you know how fuckíng painfúl it is to watch your younger siblings cry and be unable to do anything to stop their tears?" Nicholas seethed.

He was right. I had no idea how that felt, but they had brought it upon themselves. They had attàcked first, and now the consequences had caught up with them.

"First, I'm going to fúck every hole you have and then decide how to kíll you," he declared, his eyes roaming over me hungrily. I felt exposed and dirty under his gaze.

I raised my hand to slap him, but he was quicker, gripping my wrist in mid-air. He chuckled mockingly. "I saw that reaction coming from a mile away."

I smirked and swiftly retrieved a pen from the front pocket of my jeans, stàbbing him in the eye. His scream echoed through the air as he released my hand. "Did you see that coming?"

His reaction was as swift as mine. Before I could make a run for it, my back was slammed hard against the wall. Blòod flowed from one of his eyes, staining his face crimson.

"You little bítch," he yelled, landing a punch against my face.

A metallic taste filled my mouth, and I realized I was bleeding from within.

"How dare you!? You really want to díe, don't you?" he seethed.

"Let go of me, you son of a bítch."

Another blow struck my face, this time a punch targeting my mouth. More metallic liquid filled my mouth, but the tears remained absent.

"Let go!"

"Shut up! Why don't you call your prince charming and daddy to come save you?" he spat.

I scoffed, cackling maniacally. "I already did, but I actually don't need them. I can finish you off all by myself."

"Oh, really?" he mocked, pouting sadly. "Can little princess Deluxe kíll me?"

Yeah, she can.

"Bet I can."

"Okay." Nicholas reached into his back pocket, retrieving a gún and extending it toward me. "Here. I'll give you two minutes to pull the triggér. If you don't, I'll fúck you right here on the ground while you scream, and no one will come to your rescue. Then, I'll blow this place to smithereens."

What? An explósion? I couldn't díe. 

No, I would not díe before I could complete my love story. Unless, of course, it had a tragic ending.

Oh no, this was terrible.

"Come on, princess. Are you scared?" his annoying voice snapped me back to reality, and I looked down at the gún and then at the only exit. "Take it. Use your two minutes wisely."

How dare he call me princess? I'm no princess. I'm a fighter, and just because I let Alex call me that doesn't mean I like it.

I am Deluxe Dominguez, the only daughter of Derek Dominguez, and I am no damsel in distress who needs a knight in shining armor to save her. I am fully capable of saving myself.

I took the guñ from his hand, and he smirked, tauntingly. I took a deep breath, raising the guñ and pointing it at him. His smirk grew wider, and the blòod continued to drip from his eye, staining the floor.

"It's such a pity that I have to kíll you, because Maddie really likes you. But this is self-defense." Without giving him a chance to react, I pulled the triggér, and his body collapsed with a thud, a fresh stream of blòod pouring from his chest and pooling beneath him.

"You did it," he muttered, surprised, as the life faded from his eyes.

"I did," I whispered, staring at my hand, which held the guñ as if it belonged to someone else. "I shót you."

I spun around, running towards the exit before his planned explosíon could occur. Just as I reached the outside of the building, desperately searching for a path of escape, a hand slapped over my mouth and forcefully pressed me against the wall.

TBC 📖✍️

Next Episode

Previous Episode 

No comments