A Night With The Ruthless Mafia Don

Once Marisa swiftly exited Alejandro’s hotel, she flagged down a cab. Easing into the backseat, she provided the driver with her address, and without delay, the cab zoomed off. As the car smoothly traversed the road, Marisa began to recollect Alejandro’s words and the disturbing video of Dave being eaten alive by a group of crocodiles.

The haunting images from the video replayed in Marisa’s mind, and tears welled up in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks as if trying to wash away the pain. The weight of the situation bore heavily on her, and the reality that just the day before, she and Dave had been wrapped up in the joy of a new relationship now felt like a cruel twist of fate.

As the cab moved through the city, Marisa’s thoughts echoed with the memories of their budding romance – the laughter, the shared moments, and the excitement of exploring something new. It felt like a dream shattered by Alejandro’s monstrous actions.

The ache in Marisa’s heart deepened as she grappled with the harsh truth that Dave, who had only just become a part of her life, was now gone. The promise of a future together had been brutally stolen, replaced by the horrifying images of his demise. The injustice of it all intensified her grief, and she clutched her chest, as if trying to contain the pain within.

The bright morning light blurred through the tears in Marisa’s eyes, each one carrying the weight of sorrow and regret. The suddenness of Dave’s absence was a harsh reality that pierced through her heart, leaving an emptiness that seemed insurmountable. She couldn’t comprehend how a night that began with joy had twisted into a nightmare of loss and despair.

Amidst the city’s bustling sounds, Marisa’s silent sobs echoed, a poignant soundtrack to the overwhelming grief that enveloped her. She stared out of the cab window, as if searching for solace in the city’s beautiful view, hoping to find some semblance of comfort in the midst of this heart-wrenching tragedy.

In the solitude of the cab, regret gnawed at Marisa’s soul. She couldn’t shake the painful realization that meeting Alejandro was the catalyst for this devastating chain of events. The decision to engage in the hook-up business, a desperate attempt to secure funds for her son’s surgery, now felt like a pact with the devil.

As the cab continued its journey to her destination, Marisa’s mind replayed the choices that led her to engaging in a passionate encounter with Alejandro that fateful night. The guilt weighed heavy on her, each passing moment amplifying the anguish. If only she hadn’t decide to engage in the hook-up business that fateful night, Dave might still be alive, and her world wouldn’t be clouded by grief.

The memory of Alejandro’s sinister smirk and the sinister turn of events haunted Marisa. The guilt of engaging in a transaction that paved the way for such tragedy tormented her. She couldn’t escape the nagging thought that her actions, driven by desperation, had unknowingly unleashed a nightmare.

Regret etched lines on Marisa’s face, and her fingers clenched the edge of the seat as if seeking some anchor in the storm of remorse. The weight of guilt intensified with each passing street, as if the city itself echoed her inner turmoil.

In the hushed confines of the cab, Marisa’s whispered self-reproach mingled with the distant sounds of the city. If only she could rewind time and erase that ill-fated decision, sparing Dave from the gruesome fate that awaited him. The regret, like a relentless tide, threatened to drown her in sorrow.

The thought that her pursuit of financial aid for her son’s surgery had inadvertently become the catalyst for this tragedy pierced Marisa’s heart. She questioned her choices, wondering if the desperate circumstances justified the means. The guilt of trading her well-being for her son’s health now mingled with the grief of losing someone who had unknowingly walked into the crossfire of her decisions.

As the cab pulled up to her destination, Marisa wiped away the tears, but the stain of regret lingered. Marisa swiftly settled the taxi fare, not bothering to collect her change as the weight of the night clung to her. The echo of her steps resonated through the hallway as she entered her apartment, greeted by the comforting sight of her best friend Clarabelle and her son Jeffery engrossed in a movie in the living room.

Jeffery’s eyes lit up at Marisa’s entrance, and he darted towards her, a bundle of energy and affection. Without hesitation, he wrapped his small arms around Marisa in a tight hug. Marisa, with a gentle, sad smile, bent to his level, embracing him as if seeking solace in the innocence of a child’s embrace.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Clarabelle, perceptive as always, noticed the subtle lines of distress etched on Marisa’s face.

“Jeffery, why don’t you go to your room and play with your toys while mummy and aunt have a talk?” Concern and compassion shone in Clarabelle’s eyes as she gently told Jeffery to go and play with his toys in his room. Jeffery flashed a cute smile at her before retreating to his haven of toys.

As the living room shifted to a quieter atmosphere, Marisa took a seat beside Clarabelle on the couch. The weight of the morning settled between them, unspoken but palpable. Clarabelle, a friend who knew Marisa’s heart intimately, observed the traces of sorrow etched on her face.

Gently, Clarabelle broached the delicate subject, her voice a soothing melody in the midst of Marisa’s turbulent emotions. “What happened, Marisa?” she asked with a caring gaze, inviting her friend to share the burden that seemed to weigh so heavily on her shoulders.

Marisa let out a soft sigh and fresh tears started rolling down her cheeks. Marisa’s sigh carried the weight of the morning’s turmoil, and as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, Clarabelle instinctively moved closer. With gentle hands, she wiped away the tears that seemed to carry the anguish Marisa couldn’t put into words.

“Marisa, please, share with me. What happened bring you to tears?” Clarabelle’s voice resonated with genuine concern, mirrored in her eyes, patiently awaiting Marisa’s disclosure.

With a heavy heart, Marisa uttered, “Dave… Dave is no more.”

A puzzled expression crossed Clarabelle’s face as she inquired, “Dave? Remind me, who is Dave?”

“He’s the guy I went to meet yesterday, the one I had a date with… He’s gone,” Marisa stuttered, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh my God!” Clarabelle gasped, her hands instinctively covering her mouth. “What happened to him?”

“He was killed,” Marisa replied, sniffling.

“Killed? By whom?” Clarabelle pressed for details.

“Dave was murdered by a man named Alejandro,” Marisa revealed.

“Who is Alejandro?” Clarabelle questioned, trying to recall any connection.

“Do you remember the night we gathered money for Jeffery’s surgery?” Marisa asked.

“Yes, I do,” Clarabelle affirmed. “What does that have to do with Dave?”

“That night, I got the money through a one-time hookup arranged on the site,” Marisa explained.

“I remember,” Clarabelle said. “How does that relate to Dave’s death?”

“Alejandro, the man who booked me that night, is the same man I slept with. He’s the one who killed Dave,” Marisa confessed.

“So, the man you had a hookup with was also Dave’s murderer?” Clarabelle sought confirmation.

“Yes,” Marisa nodded, fresh tears flowing. “That devil named Alejandro is the one who took Dave away for no sensible reason.”

Clarabelle’s heart wrenched with empathy as she observed her friend’s tears. “It’s going to be alright, Marisa,” she reassured in a gentle tone, enveloping Marisa in a comforting embrace that encouraged her to rest her head on Clarabelle’s chest.

“Dave is gone and it’s all my fault.” Marisa sobbed.

Clarabelle held Marisa even tighter, offering solace as tears continued to flow. “It’s okay, Marisa. Stop crying,” she whispered softly, providing a comforting embrace that allowed Marisa to rest her head on her chest.

Amidst sobs, Marisa expressed deep regret, “I wish I hadn’t engaged in that hookup business that night. If I hadn’t done that stupid thing, I wouldn’t have met Alejandro, and Dave would still be alive.” Her voice resonated with the weight of remorse and pain.

Clarabelle, with a gentle tone, countered, “But if that had happened, then Jeffrey would be paralyzed today.”

As the words hung in the air, Marisa looked up, her tear-streaked face reflecting confusion. “What do you mean?”

Clarabelle sighed, composing herself before explaining, “The money you earned that night, through that hookup, was crucial for Jeffrey’s surgery. If you hadn’t met Alejandro, you might not have had that opportunity. Jeffrey’s health was at stake, and your sacrifice, though unintended, saved him from paralysis.”

Marisa sniffled, contemplating Clarabelle’s words. Indeed, Clarabelle was right. If she hadn’t made the choices she did that fateful night, her son might still be paralyzed today. Yet, amidst the rationality, a heavy burden lingered-Marisa couldn’t shake the feeling that she played a role in Dave’s tragic end, just as Alejandro had claimed. If only she had heeded Alejandro’s warning and kept her distance from Dave, perhaps he would still be alive, spared from a cruel fate.

With a soft sigh, Marisa sat upright, wiping away tears before turning to face Clarabelle. “Clara, today’s Sunday, right?” she inquired.

“Yes,” Clarabelle confirmed, curious about the sudden question. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I want to go to church,” Marisa declared, surprising Clarabelle.

“You want to go to church?” Clarabelle questioned in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Marisa nodded.

“And why the sudden desire to attend church after five years of not going?” Clarabelle probed.

“Because I have a request to ask from God,” Marisa replied.

Clarabelle, intrigued, asked, “And what might that request be?”

“I want God to take Alejandro’s life,” Marisa stated with determination.

—

Within the formidable Gambino empire, Alejandro engaged in a discussion with his twin brother and the empire’s top members. The twins occupied separate couches, emanating an air of authority, while the esteemed members stood attentively before them.

“Last night,” Alejandro’s voice resonated with a grave seriousness. “We acquired vital information about the bastard known as Salvador Morello.” He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle before continuing, “As you all know, Salvador is the head of our rival family, the Morello. We’ve been pursuing him for years, but he always eluded us. Now, we have his current whereabouts, and this morning, we will put an end to him.”

Rising to his feet, Alejandro adjusted his expensive white tuxedo, declaring, “Salvador is disguising as a reverend and is currently within Saint Patrick Catholic Church on Broadway Street. Today marks his final day on this earth. Today is the day he descends into the depths of hell.”