In The Shadows of a Mafia Lord

Marisol's POV

The storm outside was relentless, the rain

slamming against the windows as if trying to break in. Inside our tiny home,

the warm glow of the fireplace flickered against the walls, creating a fragile illusion

of safety. Luis and Ana played in the corner, their laughter rising above the

sound of the wind, while Mama hummed softly as she prepared dinner.

I sat at the table, my fingers tracing the

edge of a cracked plate, trying to push away the gnawing unease that had

settled in my chest all day. Papa's voice echoed in my mind from earlier that

morning, a warning laced with something darker.

"Stay inside tonight, Marisol. Lock the doors.

Keep your siblings close."

The tension in his voice had lingered,

sticking to my skin like a second layer.

The knock on the door came suddenly,

shattering the quiet.

Mama froze, the ladle slipping from her

fingers and clattering onto the floor. Luis and Ana stopped playing, their

laughter replaced by wide-eyed fear.

"Papa?" I whispered, glancing toward him. He

was already on his feet, his expression hard as stone.

"Stay here," he said, his voice low and

commanding.

The air seemed to thicken as he moved toward

the door, each step echoing like a drumbeat. I stood, my legs trembling as I

edged closer to the children.

When Papa opened the door, the storm's roar

spilled inside, bringing with it a group of shadowed figures. The man at the

front stepped into the light, his face a mask of cruel confidence.

"Miguel Torres," he said, his voice smooth and

venomous.

Papa's jaw tightened. "You're not welcome

here."

The man chuckled, a dark, chilling sound. "I

didn't come for hospitality."

Before Papa could react, the man shoved him

backward, sending him crashing into the table. The others stormed in, their

presence suffocating.

Mama screamed as one of them grabbed her, his

hand rough and unyielding. "No!" she cried, her voice breaking.

"Shut her up," the leader barked, his tone

sharp and final.

I stepped forward instinctively, shielding

Luis and Ana with my body. My heart pounded so loudly I thought they could hear

it.

"What do you want?" Papa demanded, his voice

strained as he struggled to stand.

"The debt," the leader said simply.

Papa's eyes flicked to Mama, then to me. "I

have nothing for you."

The leader smiled, but it didn't reach his

eyes. "Then we'll take everything."

The gunshot was deafening, the sound ripping

through the room and stealing the air from my lungs. Mama crumpled to the

floor, her blood pooling beneath her.

"No!" The scream tore from my throat before I

could stop it.

The man turned to me, his gaze cold and

calculating. "Pretty thing, aren't you?"

He reached for me, and I slapped his hand

away, rage and terror surging through me. His smirk widened, and he grabbed me

by the arm, his grip bruising.

"Let her go!" Papa shouted, but another man

struck him, silencing him with a brutal blow.

"Take the girl," the leader ordered. "Burn the

rest."

My vision blurred with tears as the man

dragged me toward the door. Luis clung to my leg, his small hands desperate.

"Marisol!" he cried.

"Run!" I shouted at him, kicking against my

captor.

The last thing I saw before the flames

consumed our home was Ana's terrified face, framed by the growing inferno..

The man who had dragged me from my family

stood over me, his dark eyes piercing through the haze. He grinned, a predator

savoring his kill. "Not so tough now, are you?"

I didn't respond. Couldn't. My chest heaved

with shallow breaths, my limbs trembling as I tried to push myself up.

"Leave her," he barked to his men, turning

away without a second glance. "She'll die here with the rest of them."

The weight of his boots faded, and the sound

of their retreating footsteps should have been a relief, but it wasn't. The

silence that followed was worse. It pressed down on me, a suffocating reminder

that I was alone.

Pain shot through my body as I crawled toward

the door, the heat of the fire licking at my back. Each movement sent

shockwaves of agony through me, but I refused to stop. Not yet.