◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ Disclaimer

1. English is not my first language so kindly tell me if there's any mistake or something wrong is written also you all know the great 'autocorrect'. 2. This book will contain mentions of violence, self harm and some triggering scenes which will have warning so it's upto you to read or skip. 3. You can speak whatever you want to or feel about to the characters but not to me, I won't tolerate that. 4. You can message me on instagram if there's a suggestion or tip regarding the story. 5. I won't write mature scenes, not here not in any of my book so don't increase your expectation about it. 6. As I previously said this book, characters, name, scenes, plot everything's fictional no resemblance to real life. 7. This book, the plot, characters, aesthetics and everything has been created by me solely so no copying is allowed. 8. You may not like the plots or few of the characters in the book as I am not that much of a good writer you can say...hehe. But just leave it if this happens I won't tolerate hate towards me. 9. The next chapters will be posted only after the target of current ones is complete. Hoping for love from you all ❤️ Enjoy the story....

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆



Since I'd no missions today, I ordered a Bugatti Centodiecia, a sleek, silver predator for myself. Getting into the car, I started the engine as a low growl echoed, I set the GPS, being unfamiliar with the roads here. While driving I reached one of the most luxury area of Italy where the elites lived. And like a storm of emotions surged through me, and a switch seemed to flip inside, I turned my car driving deep into the area knowing where I was going still not stopping. Each passing villa, each meticulously manicured garden, served as a stark reminder of a life I had once lived, a life that I have been abandoned from.

Although unfamiliar with Rome, I knew this area intimately, every twist and turn was etched into my memory. It was a world of privilege, a world where although hands were tainted still hearts were pure, a world in which my monsters wouldn't have dared to hurt me, a world that had once been mine. Then I stopped, as there it stood in all its glory, The Romano mansion, a masterpiece of Italian architecture, it sat majestically amidst towering trees, an oasis of tranquility in the heart of this exclusive enclave. The wrought-iron gates, adorned with ornate flourishes, were a formidable barrier, guarded by men who exuded an air of authority.

I did not go closer to the mansion, aware of the guards with their hawk-like eyes guarding the mansion, instead parked my car, a discreet distance away, the engine idling softly, a counterpoint to the pounding of my heart. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the already hazy vision. This was it. The place where I'd grown up, where laughter had once echoed through the halls, where family dinners had been a symphony of joy and conversation. This was where I lived the best days of my life, where my heart was happy with people who protected me, yet this was the place that bore the people who had shattered my heart into a million pieces.

Memories flooded in me, both bitter and sweet.

The opulent ballroom, where I'd once twirled in my father's arms, the grand staircase, down which I'd rush in my brother's arms , the playroom, where I'd spent unlimited time with my twin scribbling things or playing with toys, the library, where I'd spent hours with my brothers lost in the pages of fantastical princess novels. The love, laughter, and giggles – it all seemed to echo in my ears. The mansion looked like it was calling me, pleading me to come in. But then, the betrayal, the abandonment, the pain – it all came crashing down on me, a tidal wave of emotions threatening to drown me.

One trip, one vacation and one incident changed everything for worse. All the memories of past started coming infront of me like a flashback. I gripped my dress hem, my knuckles white, trying to control the tremors that racked my body.

Why had I come here? What was I hoping to achieve?

Closure? Revenge?

No, I realized, it was none of those things. It was simply a desperate need to see it again, to touch the ghost of my past, to confront the demons that still haunted me.

But did I had the courage to?

The answer was yet again no.

I sat there for what felt like an eternity, lost in a sea of memories, my tears finally spilling over, tracing a path down my cheeks. The Bugatti, a silent sentinel, stood guard beside me, a symbol of my success, a testament to my resilience.

But success meant nothing when my heart was still broken, when the echoes of my past continued to haunt me.

I wanted to shout, to yell, to cry, to release everything. I longed to fall into the arms of those who had promised to cherish and protect me, those who had promised to fight away my monsters. But it was useless. My cries would go unheard, just like always. I was an abandoned child, forgotten and alone.

My phone pinged, bringing me out of my thoughts as I sat in my car to drive away.

Just as I was about to start my car, a cold voice echoed through the quiet. "Who are you?" The words were a chilling intrusion. My blood ran cold. I'd been careless. Someone had seen me. Exposure was a risk I couldn't afford.

"I asked you a question," the voice pressed. "Who are you?" The words hung in the air as silent footsteps closed the distance to my car.

Tiny drops of sweat popped up on my forehead as I realized the dangerous situation I was in. I had to leave immediately, I started my Bugatti, speeding away as fast as I could, just as the guards started shooting at me. They thought of me as an enemy, an intruder. I drove quickly, dodging many of their shots. Some bullets hit my car, but luckily, it was bulletproof, so I was safe inside. I knew I had to be careful; I couldn't let them shoot out my tires! I pressed down on the gas pedal, going even faster. Just as I was leaving the area, I glanced in my side mirror one last time. My blood ran cold. Standing there was him – my second oldest brother, Giovanni Dario Romano. My Orso. I instantly knew it was him. We were the only ones in our family who inherited our father's unusual blue-gray eyes. Everyone else had either our mother's or our grandmother's eye color. A chill went down my spine as our eyes met for a brief moment. Thankfully, I was wearing a mask and special lenses, so he couldn't recognize me. I finally managed to escape, driving away as fast as the car could go.

Finally, I was far enough away. I slammed on the brakes of my Bugatti, the tires screeching against the asphalt. I was breathing heavily, my heart pounding in my chest. I grabbed my water bottle and gulped down the cool liquid, trying to calm myself. I knew I was in trouble. They had seen my car, both the body style and the license plate number. I couldn't use it anymore; it was too risky. I rested my head on the steering wheel, closing my eyes and trying to process everything that had just happened. My mind was racing, replaying the escape over and over. I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me, both physical and mental. I really didn't want to go to the mall. After everything that had happened, the last thing I needed was to deal with crowds and shopping. All I wanted was to go home and relax. But I couldn't disappoint Jace. He was so excited about getting gifts for Sarah, and I had promised to bring them. I knew how much it meant to him, and I didn't want to let him down. Taking a deep breath, I tried to push aside my exhaustion and anxiety. I started the car again and headed towards the mall, hoping that the rest of the day would be peaceful and normal, a stark contrast to the chaos I had just escaped. I hoped I could manage to find some good gifts for Sarah and make Jace happy. I just needed a break from all the drama.



The world saw a shell, an empty facade.

Emotions, sentiments, feelings – they were relics of a past I’d buried deep, a casualty of a grief so profound it had hardened my heart. I moved through life like a ghost, a silent observer in my own story. Laughter felt foreign, conversation a very difficult task, and the simple act of 'hanging out' with family, an impossibility.

They tried, I knew they did. I saw the yearning in their eyes, the unspoken questions, the lingering hope that the old me, the one who laughed and shared and connected, would somehow resurface. But how could I? How could I feign happiness, how could I pretend that the gaping hole in my soul didn't exist, when I was the architect of our collective sorrow?

The guilt gnawed at me, a constant, relentless tormentor. If only… those two words echoed in the hollow chambers of my heart, a painful refrain. If only I had been more vigilant, more aware, more… everything. If only I hadn't been so caught up in my own world, so blind to the subtle shifts in our family dynamic, so deaf to the unspoken cries for help. If only… then maybe, just maybe, things would be different. Our family wouldn't be fractured, our laughter wouldn't be a distant memory, and the joy that once permeated our home wouldn't be replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence.

I retreated to the sanctuary of my room, a space that held both comfort and unbearable pain. I pulled out the box, the repository of cherished memories, a time capsule of happier days. My fingers trembled as I lifted the lid, revealing a treasure trove of her belongings. A worn teddy bear, its fur matted from countless hugs. A brightly colored crayon drawing, depicting a stick figure family holding hands. A small, intricately woven bracelet she had made for me, her tiny fingers struggling with the delicate threads. Each object was a dagger to the heart, a reminder of what I had lost, of what I had irrevocably broken. Tears welled up, blurring my vision, hot and heavy. I gently caressed her things, my touch feather-light, as if she were still there, sleeping soundly in the next room. "Cuoricino," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. The Italian endearment, felt so inadequate now, a painful reminder of the vibrant, loving soul she was. "I miss you," I choked out, the words barely audible. "I miss you so much. I'm so sorry. I wish, I wish with every fiber of my being that I had been more attentive, more responsible, more worthy of being your big brother."

A single tear escaped, tracing a lonely path down my cheek. It was a tear of regret, of remorse, of the agonizing realization that some wounds never truly heal. I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking. I knew what I was looking for, the one recording I couldn't bear to listen to, yet couldn't bring myself to delete. With trembling fingers, I pressed play.

Suddenly, her voice filled the room, clear and bright, full of innocent joy. It was a recording of us playing with toy guns, a silly, carefree afternoon filled with laughter and playful shouts. Her giggles, oh, her giggles – they echoed in my mind, a symphony of pure, unadulterated happiness. They were the sweetest sound I had ever heard, and now, they were a torment, a cruel reminder of what I had lost. My composure crumbled, the dam of emotions I had so carefully constructed finally breaking. I sobbed, deep, gut-wrenching sobs that shook my entire body.

Why? The question echoed in my brain, a relentless, accusatory voice. Why wasn't she here? Why had I been so blind, so self-absorbed, so utterly, unforgivably ignorant? I was the big brother. It was my job to protect her, to guide her, to shield her from harm. I was supposed to be her protector, her rock. But I had failed. I had failed her, I had failed our family, I had failed myself. I had become a failure, a broken, hollow shell of the person I once was, forever haunted by the ghost of what could have been. The weight of my guilt was crushing, a burden I knew I would carry for the rest of my days. The world saw a recluse, cold, stone hearted mafia man. They didn't see the broken brother, the one drowning in a sea of regret, forever searching for forgiveness he didn't knew if he would ever find.

My phone gave a small buzz, a tiny interruption in the thick, suffocating sadness that had settled over me like a heavy blanket. It was a message from Sandro. The meeting, unsurprisingly, had been a success, just like all the others. He wanted me to come to the restaurant so we could head to the office together. A wave of weariness washed over me at the thought of facing the day, but I knew I couldn't avoid it. With a sigh, I began to tidy up the scattered remnants of her presence. Carefully, almost reverently, I returned her belongings to the box. I lingered over each item, my gaze drawn to them as if I could somehow recapture the feeling of her being here. Finally, with a deep breath, I forced myself to move. The ache in my chest was still a dull throb, but I knew I had to push through it. I went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face, trying to shake off the lingering fog of grief. A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I'd managed to pull myself together, at least on the surface. I put on a charcoal grey suit, the crisp fabric a stark contrast to the turmoil inside. As I looked in the mirror, I saw the familiar, professional facade I had perfected over the years. Cold, detached, and utterly unreadable. It was a mask I wore to face the world, a shield to protect the fragile pieces of myself that were still reeling from the wreckage of my personal life.

I went downstairs, As I walked past the security monitor, something out of place caught my eye. An unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway. It wasn't one I recognized, and it was parked in a way that suggested the driver wasn't visible from my view. A wave of confusion washed over me as I decided to go outside and investigate.

Stepping out into the cool air, I approached the car cautiously. As I got closer, I could see a girl sitting inside. She appeared agitated, her movements quick and nervous. She definitely wasn't anyone I knew. A knot of unease began to form in my stomach. Who was she? And what was she doing here? My mind started racing, jumping from one possibility to another, each one more unsettling than the last. Was she an enemy, hiding in plain sight, plotting something I couldn't even imagine? Was she an intruder, trying to get in? Or, perhaps even more disturbing, was she a spy, sent to watch us? The questions hung in the air, each one a potential threat, each one demanding an answer. I needed to know who this girl was and why she was parked in my driveway.

I approached the car cautiously and asked, "Who are you?" My voice was cold, but inside, my mind was racing. I could feel her movements freeze, as if she had just registered my presence. I gestured discreetly to my guards, positioning them to cover her vehicle, while I attempted to ask again, Before I could could comprehend, or even react, she abruptly started the car. The engine roared to life, and she slammed the car into gear, tires squealing. She was getting away. Instinctively, I pulled out my gun. My guards, reacting instantly, opened fire on the fleeing vehicle. Surprisingly, even with bullets whizzing around her, she made no attempt to return fire. Her sole focus was escape.

For a fleeting second, our eyes met. In that instant, she seemed to freeze, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. A strange feeling washed over me, a sense that I should stop her, that I knew her somehow. The thought was unsettling, illogical. As her car sped away, I shrugged off these confusing, useless thoughts. It was probably just the adrenaline. I gestured to my men. "Trace that car," I ordered. "Find out who she is and why was she here."

While I contacted the main security team, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach, I couldn't shake the feeling that we couldn't afford to take any risks, especially now. Just a few days prior, a credible threat had been made against Ria and 'her'—a situation that still had me on edge. This girl's sudden appearance, her nervous demeanor, and her hasty escape felt like another piece of a puzzle I couldn't quite decipher, a puzzle that could have devastating consequences.

I went inside, my mind a whirlwind of possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. I needed to speak with Sandro immediately. I felt a gnawing pain in my gut, a premonition that something was about to go horribly wrong. It was a feeling I'd learned to trust over the years, a sense of impending danger. I could only hope that I was wrong this time, that this was just a coincidence, but the feeling persisted, growing stronger with each passing moment. As I tried calling Sandro, my worry escalated. He wasn't picking up. Where was he?

My anxiety spiking, I quickly sat in my car, deciding to head straight to headquarters. I needed to increase security measures immediately, and then I would go to the mall to check on Ria and the others, to make sure everyone was safe. I couldn't shake the image of that girl's masked face, the brief moment our eyes had locked, the strange feeling of recognition that had washed over me. It was all so confusing, so unsettling.

Reaching the headquarters, I immediately immersed myself in the flurry of activity, barking orders, coordinating with my team, and pushing for updates on the trace of the fleeing vehicle. I needed answers, and I needed them now. The tension in the air was palpable, a reflection of my own growing unease. This whole situation felt like a ticking time bomb, and I had to defuse it before it was too late.



The screech of tires echoed through the underground parking garage as I pulled into a vacant spot. I killed the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the lingering thrum of anxiety in my chest. Even though I was miles away from where the confrontation had occurred, the image of Giovanni’s piercing blue-gray eyes, so like my own, burned in my mind. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the fear that clung to me like a second skin.

I climbed out of the car, my cold expressions etched on face as I walked towards the mall entrance. The brightly lit, bustling atrium was a stark contrast to the shadows I’d just left behind. The cheerful chatter of shoppers, the upbeat music playing softly overhead, the enticing displays in the shop windows – it all felt surreal, like I was stepping into a different world. A world where I could pretend, just for a little while, that I was a normal person, not someone constantly looking over their shoulder.

My phone rang as I reached the mall entrance. It was Jace, he was video calling me. Rolling my eyes, I leaned against a photo stand near the fountain and answered. His face filled the screen, a wide grin splitting his features. "You made it!" he exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "I was starting to think you weren't going."

"I promised you, Jace," I said, shaking my head, at his dramatic reaction. "Traffic was a nightmare." Of course, I couldn't tell him the real reason for my delay.

Our shopping trip began, or rather, my part in it did. Jace, as always, was the driving force, excitedly pointing out items that caught his eye. Honestly, when it came to fashion, Jace had an almost supernatural sense. You could trust his judgment implicitly; if Jace picked something out, you knew it was going to be a winner. He just had that innate style.

I spent a few moments wandering through the mall, popping into various stores, and just chatting with Jace. Jace and Sarah, they were my two constants. They'd been with me through thick and thin ever since I arrived at the academy. Jace, bless his heart (and despite his sometimes incredibly annoying personality), had never once complained when Papsi, our mentor, understandably gave me more attention due to the trauma I'd experienced. He was nothing but supportive, understanding that I needed that extra care. Yeah, Jace could be a pain, a real ass sometimes, but his heart was always in the right place. He was perceptive too. He'd clearly sensed that something was off with me today, and he was deliberately putting on a show of dramatic enthusiasm, trying his best to distract me, to pull me out of my funk. And you know what? It was working. His infectious energy was slowly chipping away at the wall I'd built around myself. I was starting to relax, to let go of the tension, and actually enjoy the moment.

"Ooh, look at that jacket!" Jace exclaimed through the video call, his face practically pressed against the phone screen. "You absolutely have to buy it! It's so Sarah!"

"Jace, calm down," I chuckled from beside him. "Let me breathe. I just got here."

"But, it's perfect!" Jace insisted. "Trust me, I have a vision! Imagine her wearing it with those boots on the left display..."

I sighed, shaking my head. "You're incorrigible, Jace. But alright, alright, I'll buy it."

After a few more minutes of Jace directing me through the mall via call and me offering my grounded opinions, I headed to the food court in dire need of a coffee. I went to the counter to place my order, while Jace remained on the call, chattering about something or the other.

"Okay, so, spill," Jace said, once I sat down at a table, my coffee in hand. His eyes narrowed suspiciously through the phone screen. "Something's definitely up. You're hiding something, something's happened even before you hit that 'insane traffic'. Don't think I haven't noticed."

I sighed, leaning my head back on the chair. "It's nothing, Jace, really. Just a long day."

"Uh-huh," he said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Come on," he said gently. "You know you can tell me anything."

I sighed again. "How are Papsi and Sarah? Any new drama at the academy?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"They're fine," Jace replied with a sigh, understanding my reluctance to talk. "Sarah's still trying to convince Papsi to let her take that mission, and Papsi's still saying it's too dangerous."

"Classic Papsi," I chuckled. "Always overly protective."

Jace's expression turned serious. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right? That's what friends are for."

I looked at him through the screen, grateful for his unwavering support. "I know, Jace. It's just… complicated. I’ll tell you when I get back there."

"Fair enough," he said, nodding. "But remember, I'm here, okay? Whatever it is, we'll face it together." He paused, then his face lit up. "Now, enough of the serious stuff. Quickly finish your coffee, you need to buy that bag I showed you, it's Sarah's favorite. And just like that, he was back to his usual, bubbly self, easing the tension with his lighthearted chatter. I shook my head playfully at Jace's sudden change of topic but smiled warmly at me. I knew I could always count on him.

I sat in the food court, sipping my coffee, the earlier unease still lingering at the edge of my awareness. Then, a new element entered the equation. A group of men, dressed in identical, dark suits, moved into the mall. Their faces were masked, an unsettling uniformity that immediately raised my hackles. It wasn't just the suits, though that certainly contributed to the disquiet. It was their manner. They didn't stroll like typical shoppers; they moved with a focused, almost tactical, precision that felt out of sync with the casual, bustling atmosphere. Their eyes, visible even behind the masks, scanned the crowd with an intensity that spoke of something beyond window-shopping. They weren't looking at displays; they were observing people.

A flicker of suspicion ignited in my mind. It wasn't fear, not exactly. More like a finely tuned alarm system going off. These men, their masked faces and deliberate movements, radiated an air of purpose that felt…off. My instincts, honed by years of navigating complex situations, screamed that something was wrong. They weren't here for retail therapy; their presence in the mall suggested a different, potentially more complicated agenda.

My pulse didn't quicken. I'd faced down worse than a few guys in suits. Instead, my mind went into overdrive, analyzing. I took another sip of my coffee, my gaze subtly following the group's movements. They were moving deeper into the mall, their dark suits a stark contrast to the colorful flow of shoppers. I noted their formation, the way they seemed to communicate with subtle gestures. This wasn't random; this was coordinated.

I glanced at my phone. Jace was still chattering away on the video call, completely oblivious to the undercurrent that had shifted in the mall. His cheerful voice, recounting some anecdote about Papsi and Sarah, seemed almost surreal in the context of what I was observing. I knew I needed to inform someone, to give them a heads-up about these men, but I also didn't want to unnecessarily alarm Jace. I needed information, and I needed it fast. Time to play close attention, I thought, my senses on high alert. This wasn't a threat—not yet, anyway.

"Jace, I'll call you later, okay? Bye," I said abruptly, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn't even wait for his reply. I just hung up the phone, my fingers fumbling with the screen as I disconnected the call. I knew I had to follow those men, to try and understand what they were up to, but as I was about to get up and move after them, my phone rang again. It was Theodore. I hesitated for a moment, my mind torn between the urgent need to track the mysterious group and the nagging feeling that I shouldn't ignore Theodore's call. With a sigh, I answered, intending to quickly explain the situation and then get back to my observation. "Theodore, listen, there's something you need to know. There are these men..." I started, my voice tight with urgency.



I strolled through the mall, a small army of bodyguards trailing discreetly behind me. Their presence was a necessary evil, a constant reminder of my…situation. They weren't intrusive, not exactly, but their watchful eyes and the way they instinctively positioned themselves between me and the rest of the shoppers was a subtle, yet persistent, intrusion on my fleeting sense of normalcy. They dutifully carried the growing collection of shopping bags, their expressions unchanging, professional. Honestly, it was a little ridiculous. I was just trying to buy a few things, not lead a diplomatic mission, but I was habitual now.

Rio, Enzo and Deo had abandoned me to the siren call of the game zone. They'd promised to shop with me, a rare opportunity for us to just hang out and be…well, as close to normal as we could manage. But the flashing lights and the promise of virtual combat had proved too tempting. They had been sending me messages every few minutes, though, checking in to make sure I hadn't been kidnapped or trampled by a rogue shopping cart. "Are you okay? Are you done?" Enzo's latest text had read, accompanied by a picture of him being labelled as a winner of some game. I'd replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

Leo, had also joined them after his meeting wrapped up. He'd probably been dragged into the arcade kicking and screaming, knowing Leo. Sandro, though…Sandro was a different story. He’d told me he was on his way to the mall, and I hadn't yet broken the news that his brothers were off gallivanting while I was playing pack mule with the bodyguards. They deserved a little fun, a brief escape from the constant pressure, whether it was with me or blasting aliens on a virtual screen. My purpose today was to provide a bit of relief, however I could. But Sandro…Sandro would not be amused. He had a very particular sense of responsibility when it came to me.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Rio's number. "Rio," I said when he answered, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice, "you guys still alive in there?"

"Just barely," Rio gasped, the sounds of simulated explosions and excited shouts echoing in the background. "This laser tag is epic! Leo just got vaporized…again."

"Sounds thrilling," I said dryly. "Listen, Sandro's on his way to the mall. I need you and the others to meet me at the food court. And try to look like you haven't been living in an arcade for the past two hours."

"Uh oh," Rio said, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Sandro's coming? Why?"

"Let's just say he might have some…questions…if he sees me wandering around alone with the bodyguards," I replied. "And he definitely won't be happy to hear that his precious little brothers ditched me for virtual mayhem."

"Right, right, food court. We're on our way," Rio said quickly. I could practically hear him rounding up the troops.

"And Rio," I added, "try to pry Deo away from the Dance Dance Revolution machine. He's been trying to perfect that one level for the past hour."

I ended the call and turned to the bodyguards. "Alright," I said, gesturing to the growing mountain of shopping bags, "why don't you guys take these to the car? I'll meet you there in a bit."

They exchanged hesitant glances. "But, Ms. Romano," one of them began, "we're supposed to stay with you."

"I know, I know," I said, offering a reassuring smile. "It's fine. I need to…freshen up. And I promise I won't get lost in the vast wilderness of the mall food court." I added a touch of sarcasm to lighten the mood. They still looked uncertain, so I added, "Seriously, guys, it's okay. I'll be fine. Just go. I could use a moment alone."

Finally, they relented, heaving the bags into their arms and heading towards the nearest exit. As they disappeared into the crowd, I took a deep breath.

I went into the restroom, finally away from my bodyguards. It was nice to be alone for a bit. I finished what I needed to do and came out. Right away, I knew something was wrong. The air felt different, not like the busy mall outside. Two people wearing masks stood in the hallway. That was strange enough, but then I saw them. They were holding guns, pointed right at me.

My brain started working really fast. Two people, small space, nowhere to run. I couldn't panic. I'd trained for this. I noticed everything: what kind of guns they had, how they held them, how they were standing. They looked tough, but I wasn't scared. Before they could do anything, I moved. They thought I'd be scared, but I wasn't. I pretended to step back, like I was surprised. But it was a trick. When they came at me, I was ready.

I hit the first guy's wrist really hard. His gun fell on the floor. He didn't expect that. I spun around and kicked his knee. He went down. The other guy was surprised. He didn't know what to do. That gave me a chance. I was on him in a flash. I hit his throat, then his head. He couldn't breathe or hold his gun anymore.

I didn't stop. I kicked his legs out from under him. He fell down, and I jumped on top of him. It was over quickly. The hallway was quiet, except for the masked men breathing hard.

I stood, adrenaline still surging, assessing the two masked figures I’d just neutralized. Clean, efficient. Or so I believed. A sudden blur of motion from behind shattered that illusion. Before I could even register the threat, I was slammed to the ground, the air exploding from my lungs. More of them. They'd been lurking, hidden, waiting for their moment. Now they swarmed me, their combined weight pinning me down, their rough hands grabbing, restraining. This wasn't a random encounter; it was an ambush. They’d set a trap, and I’d walked right into it.

Panic, cold and sharp, began to rise in my throat. I thrashed, desperate to break free, but their numbers were overwhelming. Just as I thought I was going to be overwhelmed, a voice sliced through the chaos. "Get off her!"

A figure, masked and moving with a speed and ferocity that was breathtaking, launched herself into the melee. It was a girl, and she fought like a whirlwind. She targeted the men holding me down, her strikes precise, powerful. A swift kick to the groin, a sharp elbow to the temple, a perfectly timed knee to the face – she moved through them like a hot knife through butter. One by one, they stumbled back, caught off guard by her sudden appearance and the sheer intensity of her attack.

She carved a small opening, just enough for me to scramble to my feet. The masked men, momentarily stunned, regrouped, their attention shifting from me to her. "Get out of here!" she yelled, her voice strained with the effort of fighting multiple opponents at once. She was holding them off, giving me a chance.

I hesitated, torn. I couldn't leave her to face them alone. But even as the thought formed, I knew she was right. My priority had to be getting out, getting help. We'd both be captured if I stayed. I had to warn someone, bring reinforcements.

As I turned to run, one of the men I’d initially taken down, who I’d thought was incapacitated, grabbed my ankle. He yanked hard, and my legs flew out from under me. I hit the ground hard, pain shooting through my back. The masked men surged forward again, their eyes glinting with renewed purpose.

Suddenly, the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the mall. Not close, but distant, muffled, suggesting a widespread engagement. They were fighting throughout the mall. My brothers…a wave of fear washed over me. Were they alright? I could only hope they were safe.

The girl fighting beside me stumbled, a barely audible grunt escaping her lips. I saw a dark stain blooming on her arm. She’d been hit. Despite the injury, she didn’t falter. She continued to fight, her movements now fueled by a desperate kind of courage. "Go!" she hissed, her eyes locked on the men closing in. "Get out of here!"

I knew she was right. I had to go. But as I finally forced myself to move, another gunshot rang out, closer this time. A searing pain exploded in my shoulder. I cried out, stumbling, my legs refusing to support me. I looked down, my vision blurring. A dark stain was spreading across my clothes. They’d shot me.

I collapsed to the floor, my head hitting the tile with a dull thud. The world swam in and out of focus. I could hear the sounds of the ongoing fight, the shouts and the gunfire, but they seemed distant, muted. My shoulder throbbed, the pain radiating through my body. I tried to get up, to keep moving, but my limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. I was losing blood, I knew it. I closed my eyes, fighting to stay conscious. I had to stay awake. I had to…just than another loud gunshot rang out.

Then, everything went black.



Vote Target: 35



So, The Sixth Chapter of Echoes of The Forgotten Sister is here...

The longest chapter I wrote till now 😮‍💨. [6K+ words]

Did you liked it?

What are your thoughts on it?

[Okay so if anyone has questions, should I do a QNA here or should I do one on instagram as I want you all to understand the characters deeply so later on as they develop you can see through them and understand everything. Ps: You can ask your questions in the comments and tell me where to answer them.]

Follow me on insta as I'm posting spoilers there.

Next chapter will be published after completion of the target.

My scrollstack id:- NF_doodles My insta id:- nf_doodles

I hope you all will show immense love and support on my book.

Lots of love ❤️✨️