Killed by the Ones I Loved

Chapter 2

Word Count: 778 | Released on: Today at 17:48

not a narrative but a collection of sensory poisons: the iron-tang of a nail being pried from its be

t behind me, the sound a dull re

ed pavement, shiveri

ream but a swarm of buzzing insects, gna

idled by the curb, a

n, revealing my brother's

d plastic bag holding a torn sweater and a grim

ed, his voice edged with the una

he front door h

something dangerous in his eyes. "The passenger

nct from the night air, spre

and climbed into the back,

ologne and cordite-a scent that once mea

m the curb, his eyes catching

e prison, my knuckles white around the crust. A few dry crumbs scatter

ose habits you acquired in the

over his knuckles stretched to a translucent, parchment-like white. "Remember your place a

at was

ou are the Don. You broke Omertà. You f

umped alon

e. "Your sponsorship was a display of privileged condescens

e mirror again, his expres

was a necessity. It is the only w

e city lights smearing into

e from the brutishness of t

s of couture gowns, their tags still attached, had been thrown open for her use

e. They had left me exposed, to stumble and fall, driving the weight of my body down onto the leg whose

grinding ache then

s a

massive iron gates of the Estate,

and got out, not both

, my right leg a dea

aircase, wanting only th

dark, the silenc

ed my bedroom

ies of low, intimate sounds-the rhythmic creak

s world had already taken my freedom, my title, and my dignity. Now, they were about to take the last thing I had left-t

Chapter End

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Killed by the Ones I Loved

Dionisio Wambold Mafia

“I was the cherished heir of a powerful mafia family, fiercely protected by my brother, the Don, and my fiancé, the family's lethal Enforcer. But on my eighteenth birthday, they publicly framed me for the federal crimes committed by Chloe, a destitute orphan I had sponsored. They stripped me of my title and threw me into the syndicate's subterranean prison. For three months, I endured brutal electrocution and torture. When I was finally released, crippled and starving, I walked into my bedroom only to find my fiancé entangled with Chloe on my sheets. To secure their pity, Chloe faked a suicide attempt. My brother and fiancé dragged me to the clinic, pinning me down to forcefully drain my blood into Chloe as my penance. Even when the doctor exposed my arms, covered in horrific burn scars from the prison, my brother coldly ordered him to continue the transfusion. My heart, already failing from the repeated electrocutions, finally gave out. As my spirit drifted above my lifeless body, I watched the doctor reveal that the blood drain had killed me. I watched them uncover Chloe's bribery of the guards and my final, despairing voice memos. The two most ruthless men in the city fell to their knees, howling in agonizing remorse, begging my corpse for forgiveness. But looking at their tears, I felt absolutely nothing. I smiled, turned my back on their worthless apologies, and stepped into the blinding white light, leaving them to drown in a hell of their own making.”