MAFIA WHISPER:ENCOUNTER WITH DESTINY

Chapter 1 - Nightmare

It was late. A black SUV sat in the shadows of an abandoned factory district. The low, empty buildings stretched into darkness, becoming part of the night's cover.

The Cadillac Escalade, worth millions, was riddled with bullet holes, resembling a wounded beast. After surviving the brutal attack, it had relied on its performance and agility to fight its way here, where it now lay low.

The scent of gunpowder, the metallic tang of blood, and the heavy, restrained breathing of a man filled the car's suffocating atmosphere. The shattered rear window allowed the night breeze to enter, but it couldn't dispel the thick tension inside.

Sophia Diaz was blindfolded, her hands bound. She knew only one thing: she had been kidnapped. The crackling sounds outside—like distant fireworks—hinted at what had just happened. The car jolted, and the man beside her pushed her head down, shielding her. His scent—a mix of tobacco and something masculine—filled her senses.

Something cold and hard pressed into her back, causing pain. Later, she would realize it was the gun he had used to return fire, all while keeping half his body protectively over hers.

The man who had kidnapped her was now protecting her.

Perhaps he needed her alive for now?

The gunfight had been sudden, catching her kidnappers off guard. Some were injured. The car had swerved and sped through dizzying turns before finally finding refuge in this industrial wasteland.

Sophia had no idea what would happen next, but she knew this might be her only chance to escape. The airport wasn't far—she could hear planes overhead. If she could just reach a crowded area, she might be saved.

"Mandy, how's your leg?" The man beside her spoke, his voice cold and low. He was injured too, though his tone betrayed no pain.

"It's nothing, the bleeding's stopped. Boss, are you hurt? Is the girl okay?" Mandy's voice from the front was strained. He'd taken a bullet to the leg during the ambush at the gas station. Despite the injury, he had dragged himself into the car. By now, he must have lost a lot of blood, possibly with a shattered bone, yet he wasn't worried about his own condition.

Sophia could sense the man beside her, the "Boss," directing a cold gaze at her before he answered, emotionless, "She's fine. My injury's minor. I underestimated them today. Thought picking someone up wouldn't be risky, didn't bring my gear—gave them a chance."

Carrying a gun had been his habit since age thirteen. His Glock 19 was always close, even under his pillow. Good for defense, but not enough against a serious enemy. The "gear" he referred to was his favorite weapon—the MP5 submachine gun. If he had brought it, this situation would've been very different.

"Boss, what's the plan? Still heading to the port?" Joey, the driver, asked while bandaging Mandy's wound.

"Yes, stay on course. We'll deal with the rest later. Mandy, let me see your leg."

The man beside her exited, and the air in the car instantly felt less oppressive. Sophia used the moment to sit up, realizing her blindfold had loosened. Rubbing against the seat, she freed herself from it.

No one was coming to save her. If she wanted out, she had to rely on herself.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light. Carefully, she edged toward the door. If she could slip out unnoticed, the vast space of the abandoned factory would provide cover. They were injured and distracted. Even if they chased her, they wouldn't keep up for long.

Reality hit hard. The moment her feet touched the ground, an iron grip clamped onto her arms. She turned, and for the first time, saw him clearly. Handsome, with sharp features, dark eyes like deep pools in the moonlight, his expression terrifyingly cold.

"Where do you think you're going? Trying to escape, hmm?" His voice was smooth, mocking, the last word rising with a dangerous lilt, like a predator toying with its prey.

Sophia glared at him, defiance blazing in her eyes, though it was a silent admission—yes, she had tried to run.

Before she could react, his hand struck her hard. The slap echoed through the night. Her head snapped to the side, and in the next instant, she was thrown back into the car, sprawled across the rear seat.

Her face burned, the sting numbing her skin. She wanted to cry out, but he pinned her down, one hand gripping her jaw so tightly she could barely breathe.

"Don't test me. I could strip you bare right now. You're not going anywhere until I get what I want. So, save yourself the trouble—there's no escape from me, Capone." His voice was low, dangerous. "I have no soft spot for women."

Capone. Now she had a name, but it meant nothing to her. Who was he? Why had they taken her? Her mind spun, fear swallowing her whole. But she wouldn't cry—not in front of him. She bit her lip, holding back, praying her family would find her before it was too late.

The nightmare only worsened.

Once they were sure they had lost their pursuers, the battered car raced to the airport. Not a commercial flight, but a private jet.

Sophia was tossed into the back seat like a sack of cargo, the car's violent swerves jostling her in agony. The tension in her body and the suffocating fear nearly made her sick.

Boarding the plane, despair crushed her. Leaving the city meant her chances of rescue shrank. Escape would become almost impossible. She fought, her struggles more desperate.

"Let me go! You can't just… you can't do this! Let me off this plane!" she screamed, but her voice was swallowed by the roar of the engines and the cold indifference of her captors.

Sophia's cheeks flushed with rage, her eyes sparking with fury and fear, like a cornered animal ready to strike. Capone restrained her hands and feet with ease.

"The law?" His voice dripped with mockery. "Well, then, wait for it to come save you. But today, you're coming with me, or I won't hesitate to do something far worse."

A chill of dread swept over her, but Sophia's stubborn nature kicked in. She refused to give in without a fight. With every ounce of strength, she thrashed against him, landing blows on Capone's wounded side and even kicking Mandy's injured leg.

Capone's eyes darkened. "Seems I don't need to be polite anymore."

He grabbed a whip from beside him, the one Mandy often used. The crack of it slicing through the air made Sophia's heart leap. The first strike sent her tumbling to the floor, the tip grazing her cheek with a searing sting.

She bit back a scream as he raised the whip again, but Mandy intervened. "Boss, enough! Just restrain her, we need to take off. Cronus is waiting at the port."

Capone hesitated before tossing the whip aside. "Tie her down. If she struggles again, give her a shot. I'm done with her nonsense."

The mention of a "shot" sent a cold wave of terror through Sophia. She had heard about the underworld's use of drugs to break people. The thought of being drugged, of losing control, horrified her. She'd rather die than submit.

Sensing her sudden stillness, Capone smirked, then leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes as the plane prepared for takeoff.

When they landed, Sophia's hope flared. The distant sound of people outside stirred her into another violent struggle. Desperation fueled her movements—she even bit Capone's arm, hard.

He didn't flinch. Calmly waiting for her to exhaust herself, he responded with another hard slap, then forced her into a waiting car, silencing her with tape.