Chapter 3 - chapter 2

💔🖤🥀 The Mafia's

🥀🌹 Broken Angel 🖤❤️‍🔥

_An angel sold to the devil.....yet the devil fell first,"🖤_

Written by Kãrmzy Stories 😊

CHAPTER TWO🖤:The Beginning of Her Dark Fate😣😧

Alejandro POV

"Hey baby," Camilla said, catwalking toward me, her red heels clicking against the marble floor with that familiar seductive rhythm.

"Hi," I replied coldly, not bothering to turn as I poured myself a glass of whiskey. She moved closer, her perfume filling the air—sweet but dangerous, just like her. Moments later, she hopped onto the bed, her hands sliding over my shoulders, massaging my back slowly as if she owned me.

"We're going on a mission," I said, my tone sharp and commanding. "A new shipment just arrived in town—the Red Dragon group is trying to take it from us. Prepare the men and tell Mateo I want to see him immediately. Also, organize a meeting in the conference room within thirty minutes."

Camilla smirked, her fingers tracing the tattoo on my back. "Yes, baby," she whispered before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on my cheek.

As she walked away, I watched her reflection in the mirror—confident, dangerous, and loyal only to power. The room went silent for a moment, the air thick with tension. I took another sip of whiskey and stared out the window overlooking the dark city.

Another war was coming. And in my world, wars weren't fought for honor—they were fought for survival.

In Dark Sydney Conference Room

The massive oak doors creaked open, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the air. The long table in the middle of the dimly lit room gleamed under the golden chandelier, and the smell of smoke and whiskey filled the space—a scent that defined the mafia world of Dark Sydney.

"Hey, Christy!" Chucky called out the moment he walked in, his voice rough and teasing.

Christy rolled her eyes, brushing her long curls over her shoulder. "Hey, bastard," she replied with a laugh that carried both confidence and mischief. She sauntered past him with her hips swaying like she owned the room and dropped into the seat beside her best friend, Jasmine, a calm and elegant Japanese girl with sharp eyes that saw everything.

"Wassup," Christy greeted, flashing her usual daring smile.

"Yo, you came late again, Christy," Jasmine said, folding her arms with a small frown. "Thank God the boss didn't arrive before you. You'd be a dead woman by now."

Christy chuckled softly, reaching over to play with Jasmine's hair. "Sorry, love," she said playfully, her tone soft but teasing. Jasmine rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her small smirk.

Across the room, Chucky couldn't take his eyes off Christy. He leaned back in his chair, smiling to himself as he watched her.

"Hey, idiot! Stop looking at me like that," Christy snapped, catching him in the act. Her tone was sharp, but the faint pink on her cheeks gave her away.

Before Chucky could respond, the sound of heels echoed from the hallway—slow, firm, and commanding.

"Everyone settle down," Camilla's voice rang out, low and cold but filled with authority.

The room immediately went silent.

Camilla stepped in wearing a dangerously short gown that shimmered under the dim light, her confident steps making every man in the room shift uncomfortably. Her presence alone demanded respect—and fear.

"In the next ten minutes, our boss will be here," she said, her sultry voice slicing through the air. "So all of you should be prepared."

She walked gracefully toward her seat beside her best friends, Adanne, also known as AD, and Rocky. Both were Nigerians—fearless, street-smart, and loyal only to Alejandro. Together, the trio were known as The Dark Queens, the women no one dared cross.

Christy leaned toward Jasmine and whispered, "Who does she even think she is? Just because she's close to the boss, she acts so bossy."

Jasmine's eyes widened in panic as she quickly covered Christy's mouth. "Shut up, are you crazy? Do you want to get us both killed?" she hissed.

Before Christy could respond, the atmosphere in the room changed completely.

The door swung open again, and a chilling silence fell. The air grew heavy. Everyone stood up instinctively.

"Let's welcome the boss," Mateo's deep voice boomed as he stepped in first. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried a cold expression that made it clear—this wasn't a meeting. It was an order.

Then came Alejandro.

He walked in slowly, every step echoing with dominance. His black suit was perfectly tailored, his sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the veins on his arms. His presence was magnetic—cold, fierce, and dangerous. His aura alone was enough to silence even the boldest of them.

"Welcome, boss," everyone greeted in unison, their voices trembling slightly as they bowed their heads.

Alejandro didn't reply. He simply gave a small nod and motioned for them to sit. His piercing eyes swept across the room, studying each of them one by one. The way he carried himself—calm yet terrifying—was enough to remind them all why he was feared all over Colombia.

"Share the files to them," Alejandro ordered, his tone emotionless but heavy.

Mateo immediately passed a stack of black folders around the table.

Alejandro's cold voice filled the room again. "A new drug shipment has arrived in town. The Red Dragon group caught wind of it and they're already making moves to take it away from us." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "We're not letting that happen."

Everyone exchanged nervous glances. The name Red Dragon wasn't just another rival—it meant war.

Alejandro's eyes darkened. "Remember this—Santiago Cruz doesn't play fair. He will kill, burn, and destroy anything that stands in his way. So if any of you make a mistake, I won't just blame him… I'll blame you."

A thick silence filled the air. No one dared to breathe too loud.

"Yes, sir," they all answered in unison.

Alejandro stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. "Mateo, get my car ready," he said coldly, his gaze fixed on the files. "Camilla, you're coming with me."

Camilla smirked, rising gracefully. "Yes, baby," she replied softly, her tone both seductive and confident as she followed him out.

Before leaving, Alejandro turned his head slightly. "Rocky, track the shipment's route. I want to know every move they make before they even make it."

"Yes, sir!" Rocky replied instantly, already typing on his laptop as multiple maps flashed on the screen.

Alejandro and Camilla exited the room, the echo of their footsteps fading down the marble hallway.

The moment the doors closed, Christy exhaled loudly, slumping into her chair. "Damn," she whispered under her breath. "The boss's aura alone could kill someone."

Jasmine chuckled nervously. "That's why no one crosses him. He's not just a boss, Christy… he's the devil wearing a suit."

And as the rest of the team returned to their work, the tension still lingered like smoke in the air—cold, silent, and deadly. Because in Dark Sydney, one wrong move didn't just cost you your job… it cost you your life.

At an Abandoned Container

The air was thick with tension and the sharp scent of gasoline. The night was silent, except for the rustling of rats scurrying between broken crates. The old shipping containers stood like sleeping beasts—cold, hollow, and filled with secrets.

"AD, have you found it?" Christy's voice trembled slightly as she scanned the dark corners, her flashlight beam shaking in her hand.

"Yes," AD replied in her thick, confident Nigerian accent. "Call the others. We don't have much time before they trace us."

Christy quickly pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling. "Jasmine, Chucky—get over here, now. We've found it."

"Copy that," Jasmine's voice came through the line, followed by Chucky's deep tone. Within minutes, the sound of tires screeched outside. The container door burst open, revealing Alejandro, followed closely by Jasmine and Chucky, all dressed in black tactical gear.

Alejandro's presence shifted the entire energy of the place. His calm, commanding aura filled the room, and even the shadows seemed to bow.

"Pack as many as you can into the van," he ordered in his deep, cold voice. "Camilla and the rest are waiting two blocks away. Move fast."

"Yes, sir!" they all echoed, their voices sharp and unified.

They moved quickly—opening crates, loading bags of white powder into the van. The operation was smooth, precise. Alejandro watched quietly, one hand in his pocket, the other gripping his gun. His eyes scanned every corner, calculating every sound.

After three full rounds of packing, they were almost done. Just when Christy shut the container door, a cold voice echoed from the shadows behind them.

"Well, well… look who we have here."

Everyone froze.

From the darkness stepped Santiago Cruz, leader of the Red Dragon cartel, surrounded by his heavily armed men. His smirk was cold, his eyes sharp as a blade.

Alejandro turned slowly, a wicked grin forming on his lips. "Hey, buddy," he said coolly, his tone dripping with mockery.

Santiago spread his arms. "Where do you think you're taking my property, Alejandro?"

Alejandro chuckled darkly. "Your property? Since when did stolen goods belong to you?"

Santiago's expression hardened. "You're crossing a dangerous line."

"Dangerous lines are what I'm made for," Alejandro said, smirking. "And for the record—it's mine now."

Santiago tilted his head slightly. "Fire."

The moment the word left his lips, chaos erupted. Gunfire exploded from both sides. Bullets tore through the metal walls, sparks flying as everyone ducked for cover.

"Get down!" AD shouted, pulling Christy behind a crate as Jasmine fired back with deadly precision. Chucky rolled behind the van, reloading his gun with shaking hands.

Alejandro stood tall amidst the chaos, shooting with deadly accuracy—every bullet finding its mark. His expression was calm, almost too calm, like a man born in the middle of war.

But the Red Dragons were everywhere. The air was filled with gunfire, smoke, and the metallic scent of blood.

"Boss, we're clear! Go!" Chucky yelled.

"Get the van out now!" Alejandro ordered. "Don't look back."

Christy and the others didn't hesitate. They jumped into the van and sped off, leaving Alejandro behind as cover fire raged around him.

Alejandro turned back toward Santiago, his eyes burning with fury. "Tell your men they shoot like amateurs," he said coldly before sprinting toward his black car.

Just as he reached the driver's seat, a bullet tore through the air—hitting his arm.

"Ah, shit!" he groaned, gripping his bleeding arm tightly. Pain seared through him, but he didn't stop. His eyes darkened with rage as he slammed the door shut and started the engine.

The tires screeched against the gravel as he sped off into the night, his vision blurring from blood loss. The headlights cut through the darkness, and his jaw tightened.

"Damn you, Santiago," he muttered, pressing harder on the accelerator.

The docks behind him were now burning—flames licking the sky, the sound of explosions echoing like thunder. The war between Alejandro and Santiago had officially begun.

At Alejandro's Mansion

The atmosphere was heavy, thick with tension and worry. The sound of Alejandro's roaring engine echoed through the compound, and immediately, everyone rushed out—lining up in silence, their hearts pounding. The night air was cool, but sweat glistened on their foreheads as they waited, anxious and afraid.

Moments later, the black Maserati slid through the gate, its headlights cutting across the courtyard. The car came to a sharp stop, the smell of burnt rubber mixing with the faint scent of gunpowder that still clung to the vehicle.

When the door opened, Alejandro stepped out—his arm bleeding, his white shirt stained crimson, his expression unreadable. His eyes were cold, darker than the night itself.

"Welcome, sir," they all greeted, almost in unison, bowing slightly with visible relief that their boss had returned alive.

But their relief didn't last long.

"Get out of my way, bunch of failures," Alejandro snapped, his voice deep and filled with venom. The words hit them harder than a slap, and everyone immediately cleared the path, lowering their heads in silence as he stormed past.

Camilla, who had been pacing nervously since he left, ran toward him, her heels clicking rapidly against the marble floor. "Alejandro—wait. Let me help you, please," she said softly, reaching out to touch his wounded arm.

"Get out," he barked, not even turning to look at her.

His tone was sharper than a blade—cold, final.

Camilla froze, her hand suspended midair. The pain in her chest was instant and deep. Alejandro had never spoken to her like that before. Not once.

She stepped back slowly, her throat tightening as tears filled her eyes. "I was only trying to help," she whispered under her breath, but Alejandro was already gone—his tall figure disappearing into the dim hallway, leaving only silence and the faint trail of blood behind.

Everyone exchanged nervous glances but no one dared to speak. They knew better. When Alejandro was angry, words could be deadly.

Camilla stood there, frozen, her lips trembling as she whispered to herself, "What happened out there?"

Alejandro POV

"Get me that b****, Isabella," I ordered coldly, my voice echoing through the dimly lit room. Mateo looked at me, visibly stunned. I could tell what he was thinking—because I never remembered anyone's name, especially not a woman I had met once. But for some reason, her name rolled off my tongue effortlessly. And that unsettled me.

"Yes, master," he said quickly, bowing slightly before leaving the room.

As I sat there on the edge of my bed, the pain in my arm burned like hell, but my mind was far from the wound. I couldn't stop thinking about that fire in her eyes—the same girl who had dared to slap me. No one had ever done that and lived peacefully afterward. Yet somehow, instead of anger, I felt… intrigued.

Ten minutes later, the door creaked open, and there she was. Isabella.

She stepped in quietly, dressed neatly this time—no more of that white gown. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and the faint glow of the chandelier made her skin look almost golden. I caught myself staring longer than I should. Her body had that perfect hourglass shape, the kind that could make any man forget his pain. And those lips—soft, pink, dangerously tempting.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my thoughts back to the present.

"Come treat my injury, now," I commanded, my tone sharp and cold.

She looked at me, her eyes flickering with both fear and defiance. Then, to my surprise, she crossed her arms and said with a straight face, "Go call a doctor. I'm not one."

For a second, I froze—then a slow smirk crept onto my face.

This girl… she wasn't afraid to challenge me. Even after what she had been through, she still had that spark in her eyes.

And damn it, I liked that.

_🖤If you were Isabella, would you dare to talk back to Alejandro?_

Let's find out in our next chapter guys 🥹 😊

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