The dark, cloudy sky stretched like a vast, ominous blanket, void of even a single star. For weeks, the rain had dominated the nights, pounding the earth with relentless ferocity. But not tonight. Tonight was still, eerily so, save for the occasional hoot of an owl that pierced the silence. Two figures cloaked in shadowy, hooded garments stood in a forgotten alley, shrouded by towering, dilapidated buildings. The air between them was tense, their whispers barely audible over the faint rustling of leaves.
"So, how's it going?" the first voice murmured, each word dripping with urgency.
The second figure scoffed, their tone laced with arrogance. "What do you mean, how's it going? Can't you see the fantastic job I'm doing?"
A quiet sigh escaped the first figure, irritation seeping into their voice. "How many people can we count on to get the job done?"
"Half the team is already in my pocket," the second voice replied confidently. "Just keep your end of the deal, and I'll wrap this up neatly."
"Just don't underestimate him," the first warned, their tone heavy with caution.
"Don't worry. He's done for. No one is going to save him," came the dismissive reply. The two figures exchanged a final glance before vanishing into the night, each heading in opposite directions.
By morning, chaos erupted in the mafia underworld. Two explosive revelations spread like wildfire. The first was a video of a low-ranking member of the Khaos family skimming profits from the other branches in the guise of their leader. The second, far more shocking, was a low-resolution clip showing a hooded figure stabbing Eddie. While the first video was scandalous, it paled in comparison to the uproar caused by the second.
Speculation ran rampant. Some claimed Eddie deserved his fate for betraying the family—greed had always been his downfall. Others argued the attack was too brutal, suspecting a rival gang or an internal betrayal. Theories abounded, but one thing was certain: the Khaos family was in turmoil.
"Padrino."
Andy's voice broke the serenity of the room. Rhys, draped in a luxurious robe, reclined in his massage chair, savouring a glass of wine. He didn't open his eyes but acknowledged Andy with a subtle tilt of his head.
"You were perceptive to upload those videos," Andy began. "Now there's so much speculation about Eddie's death."
Rhys's lips curled into a wicked smile, though his eyes remained closed. "Donna must be fuming."
"She's called an emergency meeting of all the family branches at the Khaos mansion," Andy continued, his voice steady but laced with apprehension.
Rhys finally opened his eyes, a dangerous glint illuminating his gaze. "I imagine she didn't appreciate our little gift."
"She wants to quash the rumours and restore Eddie's name," Andy added.
A chuckle escaped Rhys's lips. "She's trying to clean up a mess she can't control. Release the other footage. Let's see how she handles that."
Andy hesitated, then leaned in closer. "Padrino, Donna's been looking for a way to undermine you ever since your influence started growing. Your loyalty network has become… substantial. When we investigated Eddie, we found his greed went deeper than we thought. He'd been siphoning millions to Malta, right under Donna's nose. My team is tracking the funds and any additional leads."
Rhys's expression darkened. "Do it discreetly. Donna won't sit idly by while we pull her strings. She's cunning, with more cards than we can see. We need to play this game carefully."
He swirled his drink thoughtfully before continuing. "That video of Eddie's stabbing—it caught us off guard. If we hadn't discovered its existence, we'd be at a disadvantage. Even if Donna doesn't have the full footage, we can't afford to underestimate her."
Andy nodded. "We're also investigating how that video was recorded. From the angle, it's clear there's a mole. Someone's been watching us."
Rhys's voice turned cold, final. "Find them. I want to know every move they've made and every secret they've whispered."
"Yes, Padrino." Andy bowed and slipped out through the double doors, leaving Rhys to his thoughts.
The Khaos mansion, an opulent fortress, was abuzz with tension. Representatives from every branch of the family gathered, their faces etched with anger and suspicion. At the head of the table sat Donna, her piercing gaze silencing the room.
"Enough!" she barked, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "This infighting will destroy us faster than any rival ever could. Eddie's death is a tragedy, but these rumours must end."
A voice from the crowd dared to interject. "Donna, with all due respect, the videos have raised questions about your judgment. Why keep Eddie so close when his greed was evident?"
Donna's eyes narrowed. "Eddie was loyal. Flawed, yes, but loyal. And now he's dead. Our priority should be finding his killer, not indulging baseless accusations."
Before she could continue, a notification buzzed on her phone. Her face hardened as she opened the link. A new video had surfaced, showing Eddie in a heated argument with another family member and then shooting them at close range. The implications were damning.
Rhys, watching the video being uploaded, smirked. "Checkmate," he whispered to himself.
***************************************************************************
The clock struck 3 a.m. as Lia quietly slipped the key into the keyhole, her movements precise to avoid waking anyone. The living room was silent and steeped in darkness, as it always was when she came home late. Gently closing the door behind her, she tiptoed toward the stairs, eager to retreat to the sanctuary of her room. But before her foot could land on the first step, the lights flickered on.
Sitting upright on the couch, legs crossed, and clad in a short, provocative net sleepwear robe, Jasmine's piercing gaze met Lia's startled expression. Lia jumped, her heart pounding in her chest—she hadn't expected anyone to be awake.
"Well, well," Jasmine drawled, her tone dripping with condescension. "Sneaking in at 3 a.m. again? Does your owner know about this little habit of yours?"
Lia's stomach churned with irritation. She had been avoiding Jasmine for weeks, unwilling to engage in her petty provocations. With a tired sigh, Lia dismissed her with a glance and began ascending the stairs, desperate to escape the confrontation. But Jasmine wasn't one to be ignored.
Before Lia could reach the top, Jasmine appeared in front of her, her face twisted into a mean scowl. "If you have something so important to do, the least you could do is let the people in this house know. Nancy can't keep preparing meals for you when you never show up."
Lia paused, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. It was a small, incredulous laugh—Nancy hadn't prepared anything for her in a while now she was aware of it. Jasmine was just seizing the moment to pick a fight. Without a word, Lia moved to sidestep her, but Jasmine was quick, blocking her path again.
"Not only are you completely untrained," Jasmine spat, her voice rising, "but you're rude as well. Didn't your parents ever teach you to be respectful, especially to the people who feed and house you?"
Lia's patience frayed, but she maintained her composure. Her response was immediate, sharp, and emotionless. "No Jasmine."
The bluntness of her reply took Jasmine by surprise. For a fleeting second, Jasmine's smug confidence faltered, her expression flickering with disbelief. She quickly recovered, but Lia saw the momentary crack in her facade. Jasmine had done her homework on Lia, digging up every painful detail—how her mother despised her, how her father's identity was a mystery, and how her previous Guardian's care felt more like an obligation to Lia than love. Armed with these weapons, Jasmine intended to break Lia, to humiliate her into submission.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Jasmine sneered, shaking her head in mock pity. "No wonder you don't have parents. I bet you were just an insignificant mistake. A burden they couldn't wait to get rid of. A worthless thing no one wanted."
Each word dripped with venom, the malice so thick it suffocated the air between them. Jasmine's triumphant smile widened as she noticed the faint frown forming on Lia's forehead, the subtle twitch of annoyance on her lips. She'd finally struck a nerve, and she relished the victory.
Lia's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She fought the rising tide of anger threatening to overwhelm her. Jasmine's words were like poison, each syllable a calculated attack. Lia took a deep breath, steadying herself. She refused to give Jasmine the satisfaction of seeing her break.
"You done?" Lia's voice was calm, almost disinterested, as she locked eyes with Jasmine. Her unwavering stare carried a quiet strength, one that unnerved Jasmine more than she cared to admit.
"Excuse me?" Jasmine snapped, the confidence in her voice wavering.
"I asked if you were done," Lia repeated, her tone unwavering. "Because if you're trying to get a rise out of me, you're wasting your time."
Jasmine's smug expression faltered again, replaced by a flicker of frustration. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Just because you've got that blank face of yours doesn't mean you're untouchable."
Lia took a step closer to Jasmine, her frustration bubbling over like a shaken soda can. "I really don't want to waste my breath speaking to a squatter," Lia spat, her voice low but dripping with venom. She paused, collecting herself, and turned to face Jasmine directly. "Honestly, I don't know why you're so silly, attacking me like this. Maybe it's because you think I'm young and wouldn't fight back. Or is it because you're older and think I'm just supposed to roll over for you? Whatever it is, stop. Just stop."
Jasmine smirked, arms crossed in defiance.
"Listen," Lia continued, her voice trembling with exhaustion, "I have my own issues to deal with. I certainly don't have time for your theatrics. This is the last time I'm going to address this, and after today, I don't ever want to speak on it again. If you have a problem with me staying here, go find Rhys. Talk to him. If he wants, he'll move me out. Either way, I couldn't care less. Goodnight, Jasmine. "
With that, Lia shoved Jasmine out of her way. She didn't trust herself to say anything more, fearing her words would spiral into something she'd regret. Slamming the door behind her, she collapsed onto her bed, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
Her mind was a whirlwind. Lia wasn't a talker by nature, and she hated confrontations. Jasmine's constant needling had pushed her to the edge. Why couldn't the woman just leave her alone? It wasn't like Lia was thrilled to be here, either. She wanted out of this house as badly as Jasmine wanted her gone.
Staring at the ceiling, Lia felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. What would her life look like if her family truly cared for her? How different would things be? She glanced at the clock: 3:15 a.m. She needed at least two hours of sleep before tackling her hectic day, but her thoughts refused to settle. Her coursework deadline loomed, and her body screamed for rest. She sighed, knowing sleep wouldn't come easily.
Dragging herself to the shower, she let the cold water cascade over her. It was bracing, almost painful, but it cleared her head. She emerged refreshed but still weary. Throwing on a simple sleepwear set, she set her alarm and climbed into bed. Yet her mind betrayed her, wandering to Rhys. Her heart fluttered as she thought of him, the memory of their kiss burning like a brand in her mind.
"Stop it," she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. "This is not the time."
By 4:15 a.m., sleep still eluded her. She reached for her phone set her alarm and played rain and thunderstorm sounds. The soothing rhythm usually worked, but it was taking it's time tonight. At last, she drifted into a fitful sleep, only to be jolted awake by the faintest ringing noise. Blinking groggily, she glanced at the clock. 5:30 a.m.
Groaning, Lia dragged herself out of bed. Her body felt leaden, her eyes heavy, but she had no choice. She needed to finish her essay before the 11 a.m. deadline. Brushing her teeth and washing her face, she dressed in casual three-quarter shorts and a crop top, throwing an oversized flannel shirt over it. Her hat and sneakers completed the look.
Reaching for the door, she found it wouldn't budge. Panic set in as she pulled and twisted the handle. It was locked from the outside.
"Jasmine," Lia hissed through clenched teeth, anger simmering just below the surface.
Taking a deep breath, she began pounding on the door. "Open the door! Jasmine, I swear—"
No response. For fifteen minutes, she hammered and shouted, but the house remained silent. Desperation took hold. She couldn't afford to miss her deadline. With no other options, she turned to the window.
The drop wasn't far, but it was risky. Tossing her bag to the ground below, she climbed onto the sill, gripping the frame tightly. The cool night air stung her skin as she carefully lowered herself, her feet finding purchase on the first-floor windowsill. Finally, she let go, landing awkwardly but unharmed.
Grabbing her bag, Lia sprinted to the gate. The motion-sensor system refused to respond to her key. "Damn it," she muttered, scanning for another way out.
The barbed wire atop the high wall presented a formidable challenge. Wrapping her flannel shirt around the wire for protection, she climbed. As she hoisted herself over, her hand caught on the barbs, tearing her skin. She bit back a cry, the pain sharp and immediate. Blood seeped through her flannel shirt, which she used to wrap her hands. As she dropped to the ground, her knees scraped against a rough concrete stone sitting idly.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered, wrapping her injured hand tighter.
By the time she reached the shop, the rain had started, heavy and relentless. She could not find any willing transport mode due to the heavy rain, and she had to take several detours due to flooding, which caused the journey to be longer and more stressful than it should have been. She was soaked, her body trembling from exertion and cold. Her knee throbbed with each step, but she pushed forward, arriving just after 9 a.m. Exhausted but determined, she immediately opened her laptop and began typing furiously, not minding the puddled mess her wet clothes were causing.
The minutes ticked by. Lia's fingers flew across the keyboard, her mind racing to piece together coherent thoughts. She wasn't the best student, but she refused to let circumstances get in the way. In as much as she wasn't even in the lower average range, she believed hard work would certainly count for something. Jasmine's words from earlier echoed in her mind:
"Insignificant mistake. A useless thing that no one wants. Worthless to keep around."
Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. She couldn't afford to break down now. With ten minutes to spare, she had managed to write some extra thousand words, but had a long way to finish, and she needed those ten minutes to run to school and submit her work. She immediately stood up and instantly regretted it because her body ached, and her spirits were low. Slumping back in her chair, she closed her eyes, willing herself to find a shred of strength to get up to face the rest of her day.