Rose's voice became more tired with each word, as if she were saying goodbye to something precious—the right to choose her granddaughter's destiny and the future of her grandson. It was painful for her to see herself helpless in a situation that was completely beyond anyone's control in that room.
Nayara was lost in her own thoughts, trying to understand the complexity of that revelation. Her eyes were fixed on her grandmother, searching for answers that didn't come. She looked around the room, and in her mind, a storm of emotions was forming. But doubt still lingered in her voice.
"But..." she started, her voice once again showing a shadow of doubt, though the rational tone was still present. "She isn't the eldest daughter," said the capo's son and future capo, Dylan.
The doubt in Dylan's voice was clear, and for a moment, the room seemed to wait for the answer, as if the very answer were a key to unraveling the knot forming in everyone's hearts. It was Ethan, the most lighthearted man but now serious and grim, who answered, his voice filled with a bitter humor.
"Yes, she isn't, but they want her. Ever since they found out she's Ivan's daughter, maybe she doesn't know, but she's the most important person in this world. More important than anyone could imagine."
Ethan's words dropped like a stone into a calm lake, making the waters of understanding stir even more. Nayara felt a wave of confusion and anger take over her body. What did that mean? She was at the center of everything, and had no idea how much she was truly desired, or what that meant for her.
"How so? I don't understand." Her voice faltered, but she tried to stay rational, seeking clarity in the chaos that was forming.
Rose sighed, a long and painful sigh. She was tired, but knew she had to continue.
"You don't understand, Nayara. You are the princess of the Assassin's Order, the future queen. You are the daughter of Celestia Black, the founder of BLACK, the most powerful, richest woman, and the future heir of everything she built. The woman who created nanobot technology, now used worldwide, making people three times more powerful than ordinary humans. She also created many other technologies that the rest of the world should never know about. Not even in 500 years. And to top it off, you're the daughter of a counselor from the American mafia, the younger brother of the mafia boss. Don't you get it? The truth is, you're not just a princess of the Order, you're an invaluable commodity to everyone."
Rose's words seemed to pierce Nayara's heart. She never imagined her own body, her own blood, was so desired, so coveted. But what devastated her the most was the revelation that her father had thrown her life into a chess game, where her choice of partner would be determined by others, by larger interests, by power. There was no more control, no more choice. She was a piece that had to be moved.
Rose, her voice growing weaker, continued:
"You run as fast as a car. You can jump three floors high. You can lift two tons of weight. You can regenerate, cure diseases, live longer than any normal human, all because of the technology your mother developed. And if you think no one wants control over all this power, you're completely wrong. They know this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and they won't let it slip. They'll exploit this loophole to the end. And your father... He'll be responsible for all of this."
The room was in absolute silence. Each word seemed to weigh a ton. Nayara's fate, and that of everyone there, was being sealed before their eyes. Yet, the fight was not lost yet.
Lion, with a less grim tone but still full of tension, ventured to speak:
"But we can resist, right? After all, she's not the one who should marry him, is she?"
Lion's words, though laced with doubt, brought a faint hope to light, but there was something deeper in the air: the understanding that, despite everything, there was still a chance to change the course of events. But would it be enough to face the weight of the fate being imposed upon them?
The tension in the room grew with each word spoken. The conversation was becoming more visceral, heavier, as if the revelations were not just about the fate of one person but about the destinies of all those present, entangled in a web of interests and threats that intertwined in an inescapable way.
Dylan, with a cold and calculating smile, looked around at everyone, carefully measuring his words with the precision of a master manipulator. His gaze cut through the air, full of confidence bordering on arrogance. He was there not just as a future capo, but as a man who believed he understood the rules of the power game like few others.
"But, only if the woman he's supposed to marry is a virgin," he said, his voice echoing off the walls, making everyone in the room feel the weight of his statement. Each of his words seemed like a sentence, an unwritten rule in a cruel and merciless game. "And I can't vouch for that. It's an unwritten rule. The boss of a mafia must marry a virgin. And that's why women must be virgins by the age of 20."
Dylan's words hung in the air like poison, exuding a palpable discomfort. The room fell into absolute silence for a moment, as if everyone had been struck by a shockwave. The cruelty of this demand reverberated in everyone there, a reminder that for those immersed in this world, personal choices were mere pawns on the power board.
Nayara felt a knot tighten in her stomach, as if the ground beneath her was disintegrating. She, who had always known she was involved in a game of life and death, never imagined she would be subjected to such a brutal, inhumane rule. Her anger grew, but she didn't show it. Not anymore. In that moment, her anger was a silent flame, threatening to consume everything around her.
Dylan, in turn, seemed to absorb every reaction with hidden pleasure. He knew his statement was a provocation, a reminder of how small and vulnerable anyone in that room could be, including Nayara. And he didn't care. He was consolidating his dominance.
He then cast a cutting look at Eva, an expression of clear disdain.
"And this loophole is how they'll get to Nayara. And even if she's not a virgin, they won't care." He said, the coldness of his words resonating in the walls, like a cruel sentence that seemed to seal the fate of everyone present. Dylan's icy gaze traveled over Eva, making it clear he knew everything. Eva, who hadn't been pure for a long time, felt the growing pressure in her chest. She lowered her eyes, overwhelmed by shame. Yet, the feeling of powerlessness was greater than any emotion she could express.
Nayara, though she tried to ignore it, couldn't avoid the impact of Dylan's words. He not only destroyed any illusion she had about her freedom, but also exposed a painful and irreversible truth: in such a cruel and controlled world, she, her sister, and anyone there were nothing more than bargaining chips.
Nael, with his impassive gaze, was absorbing every fragment of that conversation with his usual calm. But there was something more in his gaze, something sharper than ever. He knew the situation was about to become far more complex than anyone there could imagine. He needed to understand every aspect, without exception.
"Tell me more about the Russian mafia," Nael's voice cut through the air, breaking the tense silence that had settled over everyone. His voice, cold and calculating, made the others turn toward him, with the clear understanding that he was in control of the conversation at all times.
Valet, the capo's right-hand man, took a deep breath, his eyes becoming more serious as he began to explain the reality of the situation. The words he spoke didn't just come from his knowledge, but from a life marked by the harshness of the world they were immersed in.
"They have many connections," Valet began, his voice heavy with a dark weight that seemed to wrap around everyone like a cloak of pessimism. "They're connected to the Italian mafia and the Chinese mafia. They're the mafia with the most weapons, and they have direct ties to the Russian government. This, for us, is not advantageous, since we're treated as criminals by our own government—and, in this case, it's somewhat understandable. But it also means we're alone in many ways. The Chinese mafia, for instance, has made many discoveries in the field of weapon technologies. In other words, the situation is almost impossible. If we try a war now, it will be a world war. And the consequences... the losses would be so devastating we couldn't come out of it. We're surrounded by enemies who far exceed us in power."
Every word from Valet was infused with a sense of fatality. He wasn't just informing them, he was painting a picture so dark it seemed the future had already been sealed. There was no longer room for illusions of victory or hope. It was a battle against forces so large that resisting seemed nearly impossible.
Nael, impassive, absorbed every detail of the situation, knowing his next move would be crucial. He looked at the others, his gaze as deep as an abyss. Then Valet continued, his voice taking on an even darker tone.
— So far, they have about 100 people with nanobots, or what they call "superior humans." A fight against them wouldn't be something we'd win, no matter how hard we tried. And, as far as I know, you, Nael, don't have nanobots in your body, which means you're an ordinary human. — He paused, as if expecting these words to fall heavily on everyone there.
The sense of helplessness grew in each of those present. Valete was not just exposing a strategic weakness, but the very cruel nature of their existence. They were as far from having control over their own fate as they could be.
Nayara looked at Nael, feeling a wave of confusion mixed with anger and fear. She knew that they were all at the mercy of immeasurable forces, but at the same time, she felt that somehow, the key to escaping this cycle of chaos was in her hands. The doubt and tension wouldn't disappear so easily.
But deep down, everyone there knew that the cards had already been dealt. And although the future seemed bleak, there was always a possibility, a fraction of a chance, that could alter the course of fate. But what would the price of that change be?
The atmosphere in the room was tense, filled with a heavy silence, almost oppressive. Time seemed to crawl, as if each second was being dragged on by the uncertainty and the looming threat in the air. Nael, with an impassive expression, stood up from his chair, his eyes fixed on his father, Ivan, who remained seated, seemingly relaxed but with a tense look, as if he already knew something was about to happen.
Nael, unhurried, looked at him with an unsettling calm. His eyes showed neither anger nor fear, but a complete coldness, as if he was about to give a simple ultimatum.
— So, have you made your choice? — The simple question hung in the air like an irrevocable sentence. The room seemed to freeze around them, shadows dancing on the walls as everyone watched, filled with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, as if they were waiting for the moment to unfold.
Ivan furrowed his brow, confused, but the tension in his posture betrayed that he felt the weight of the situation. He tried to hold on to the authority he still believed he had, that position of control that was slipping away before his eyes.
— Choose what? — His voice came out heavy with confusion, but also with a hint of superiority, as if he were still trying to maintain the facade of an authoritative father.
Nael did not answer immediately. His expression remained unyielding. He took a step forward, moving closer to Ivan with a nearly imperceptible movement, but charged with an intensity that made the air feel dense, heavy with subtle threats.
— I gave you the choice between blowing your brains out or ripping off your balls. — Nael's voice was cold, emotionless, but with a touch of cruel amusement, as if it were just a game. — Time is running out, and I don't like to waste time.
The words, spoken with such calm, cut through the silence like a sharp blade. Ivan felt the weight of those words like a physical blow, and his face contorted with a mixture of anger and frustration. He tried to maintain composure, but his eyes betrayed his growing fear. He knew that the authority he had fought so hard to keep was crumbling before him.
— I am your father, kid! — Ivan tried to impose his hoarse voice, anger spilling from his words, but before he could finish, Nael had already moved.
It was quick, as if he had disappeared. Ivan was lifted effortlessly, his throat being squeezed by Nael's hand, and in the blink of an eye, he was thrown against the wall with brutal impact. The sound of his body hitting the concrete reverberated through the room, and Ivan was tossed more than 10 meters away, pinned against the wall, unable to react.
The room fell into absolute silence, broken only by the sound of labored breathing. No one seemed to understand what had just happened. Nael remained still, as if nothing had occurred, but his gaze fixed on his father, now grotesquely hanging on the wall, made the message clear: he had control. He always had.
— How...? — Ivan tried to speak, his voice trembling, panic taking over him. He didn't understand how this had happened. — Weren't you just an ordinary human?
Nael, still with the same cold expression, shrugged as if it were something trivial. His voice came out calm, almost indifferent, as if he were explaining something unimportant.
— So many questions. — That was all he said before approaching Ivan, who could barely keep himself conscious, his vision blurry from pain and shock.
Nael then did something unimaginable, something that stole the breath from everyone in the room. With lethal speed, he ripped off Ivan's masculinity. The sound of the cut, the flesh being separated, echoed in the room like a muffled scream, and then Ivan's body fell to the floor, lifeless and undignified. What remained of him, once imposing, now seemed like a worthless piece of meat. Nael's cruelty seemed endless, and he moved with a terrifying calm, as if dealing with something of no importance.
Ivan's screams began to rise, but they were only disjointed, agonizing laments. Blood spread across the room, staining the floor and creating an indescribable scene of horror. Each scream seemed to cut through the air, but no one dared to move.
Nael, with an ironic smile, stepped away from Ivan's body. He turned, as if nothing had happened, and, in a nonchalant tone, delivered one last phrase, as if he were dismissing something trivial.
— Make sure they take him to the hospital. — He said, as if he had just delivered an unimportant message.
The atmosphere seemed on the verge of breaking when Merlin, enraged, lunged at Nael with a speed three times faster than average. He tried to land a punch, but Nael dodged with an impossible dexterity. In seconds, Merlin, one of the best fighters of the new generation, with nanobots in his body, was on the ground, Nael's foot pressing against his chest.
— You should thank me. He and his little problem have caused more trouble than the entire mafia combined. But maybe not. — Nael paused, his voice laced with a cruelty that seemed to have no end. — What you should thank me for is not sending your mother to be raped by animals, or sending his daughters to a brothel, to experience the worst of human perversions. To break them slowly until they forget where they came from and what they are.
"Stop!" — Kendrick's voice, the capo of the American mafia, sounded for the first time in the room. It was a clear, commanding order. Nael looked at him, assessing the situation. He knew he could have stopped, but decided that Merlin should handle it on his own. Perhaps it was the only way for him to learn something. Still, Nael had his limits, and Kendrick was the only one there who might truly understand what it meant to be in the line of fire.
He relented, lifting his foot from Merlin's chest.
The room, once filled with unresolved tensions, was now immersed in a chilling silence. The smell of blood hung in the air, making the atmosphere even more suffocating. Each breath seemed heavy, smothered by the gravity of what had just occurred. Nael walked toward the door, not looking back. He didn't need any more explanations, no more words. He had already made his choice, and everyone there knew exactly what place each of them held in that game.
The unfolding scene made it clear that, for Nael, death was just another move. A piece on the board. To him, nothing was out of place, and nothing ever would be.
— Let's go home. — Nael said, looking at his mother and sister.
As he began to walk, he paused for a moment and looked at Nayara and Celestia. Something in his gaze conveyed a silent message, but before they could rise, he was already heading for the door, not looking back.
---
"In a world where the skies hide unfathomable secrets and the earth pulses with ancient energies, every choice could be the beginning of a legend. Between the glow of the stars and the weight of destiny, our heroes challenge the impossible, guided by the indomitable flame that burns in their hearts. 🌌✨
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