CHAPTER 4 - MAFIA, HEARTBREAK, AND REVENGE

*Narrator's/Damian's POV*

Mira's eyes widened in shock, her body frozen in place as if reality had just shattered around her. Her gaze darted between the corpse and the figure standing before her—me. A shudder ran through her as her lips parted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't tell me... D-Damian? Is that you?"

Ah, so she finally recognized me. The pieces had fallen into place, and she saw the truth for what it was. I was the man before her now, just as I was the one who had taken her father's life months ago.

I took a step forward, into the incandescent glow of the overhead light. My movements were slow, deliberate, exuding a calm menace. "So you finally realize it now."

Her expression shifted—fear still clung to her features, but anger sparked beneath it, a defiant flame flickering in the dark. Perhaps it was the past we shared, the familiarity that made her bold, even in the face of terror.

She collapsed to her knees, staring at the blood-streaked floor before tilting her head up, her tear-filled eyes locking onto mine. Her voice trembled, but there was an unmistakable demand in her words.

"Why, Damian? Just tell me why. What did I ever do to you? Why did you choose to punish me like this? What have I done to deserve this?! Do you know how much pain you've caused me?! Do you have any idea what you've put my mind through?!"

Her voice cracked under the weight of her emotions, but I wasn't moved. Instead, I tilted my head slightly, my tone cool, detached.

"What happened to that boy you left me for?" I mused, letting the question hang between us. "Alex, wasn't it? Did he abandon you? Or did fate play its hand—a tragic car accident, perhaps?"

The moment I uttered his name, I saw it. The way her breath hitched, the way her body tensed. The mention of Alex cracked something within her. She began to break down, sobbing over the lifeless form of her mother, mourning her past lover, the one she had never spoken about—the one who had so effortlessly replaced me.

Her hands clenched against the bloodstained floor as she wept, her voice a fragile whisper. "Why can't you just let me forget? I don't want to remember. Do you know how many therapists I've seen just to erase it all?"

I let out a humorless chuckle. "Your mental health is the least of my concerns. You lied to me, led me to believe I was special. You fed me all the words I wanted to hear. I shaped you, molded you into who you are today, and in the end, after everything I gave you—" My voice dropped, laced with quiet fury. "You discarded me. Like I was nothing. Like yesterday's garbage. And now, you dare ask me what you did wrong?"

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, exhaling softly. "I gave you happiness, Mira. And I can take it away just as easily."

She flinched, her sobs quieting as she bowed her head in desperation. "Is it simply because of that?!" she choked out. "Alright, fine. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I did, for all the pain I caused you! Please… just leave me alone."

Her pleas rang hollow in my ears. The sound of her cries, the way her voice broke—it was all meaningless. I merely stood there, watching, waiting for her to finish her pitiful display.

Then, my phone rang. Without hesitation, I answered, my tone shifting into one of immediate obedience. "Hello, sir."

A deep, commanding voice responded on the other end. "Did you complete that extra assignment you requested?"

I glanced at Mira briefly before looking away, my voice level. "Not completely taken care of, but my assignments for tonight are finished. Thank you again, sir."

"Good, because I have another job for you," my boss continued. "Your peers are available, but no one handles an undercover mission like you do."

I smirked slightly. "I'm honored by your trust, sir. What's the assignment?"

"We have a problem. A university kid—just like you—somehow got his hands on a large supply of scopolamine. He refuses to hand it over. We need to find out how he got it and make sure he understands who he's dealing with. Get to headquarters. I'll brief you there."

"Understood. I'll be on my way."

The call ended. As I slid my phone back into my pocket, my gaze returned to Mira. She was still sitting there, watching me with a strange mixture of fear and defiance.

She took a shaky breath before speaking, her voice trembling but firm. "Damian."

I paused mid-step, waiting.

"I'll never forgive you for this," she said, each word laced with venom. "I'm going to expose you. Starting with the authorities."

For the first time that night, I smiled—a slow, knowing smirk. "I'm glad the feeling is mutual." My voice dropped to a whisper, amusement flickering in my tone. "But good luck finding any proof. You'll need it."

I turned on my heel and walked away, knowing no one had seen me enter, and no one would see me leave.

The night was still, the air crisp as I walked through the deserted streets. The trees swayed, the rustling of leaves accompanying my steps. The silence, the cool breeze—it was oddly nostalgic.

"I remember that night," I murmured to myself. "The one where we snuck out and laid in the grass, watching the stars."

I lifted my gaze to the glittering expanse above. Back then, I had wished that moment could last forever. Now, it felt like a dream—a fleeting illusion I had long since awakened from.

My focus returned to the road ahead. An hour passed in silence until, at last, the bright neon signs of the casino came into view. The glowing lights stood in stark contrast to the night's darkness, pulling me back into reality.

The casino was nothing more than a facade, a mere top layer of the real business—the Mafia headquarters beneath it.

As I stepped inside, the dazzling lights and murmurs of gamblers filled the air. The familiarity of it all made it mundane. The same faces, the same games—nothing ever changed.

Without a glance at the gamblers, I made my way to the bar, taking a seat on one of the cushioned stools. The bartender, a hulking man with a gruff voice, turned toward me, a grin breaking across his rugged face.

"Ah, Damian Miller. One of my best customers," he greeted, polishing a cocktail glass. "The usual?"

I peeled off my black leather gloves, flexing my fingers as they met the cool air. I returned his grin with a nod. "Yes, please. The usual."

Turning slightly to my right, my gaze settled on the man sitting next to me. I met his eyes with a calm intensity.

"So, boss," I said, voice low and composed. "What's the assignment?"