Claimed By The Mafia Brothers

The car stopped inches away from me, its tires screeching loudly. I fell backward, hitting my head and hands on the ground. Blood trickled down my forehead.

I tried to sit up, but everything spun around me. "Was this it? Am I going to die here? Mom... I'm sorry," I whispered silently, watching a man step out of the car and approach me. My eyes gave way, and everything went blank.

"

"Get me the doctor," a voice called urgently. "She's bleeding profusely. We have to stop the bleeding now." Other voices followed, accompanied by various sounds.

I had no idea where I was. My eyes could only catch a glimpse of the bright light that gleamed through as they slowly shut again, and everything turned blank once more.

Everything fell silent for a while as all I could see was darkness, which was slowly subsiding to a slight gleam of light. I gently opened my eyes, scanning the area and realizing I was in a hospital. My entire body ached, followed by a shooting pain in my head. The memories of the incident before the accident hit me—the sight of Dominic killing the three students echoed in my mind like a horrible nightmare that I desperately wanted to escape.

The ward door creaked open, and a man walked in. "Hi," he greeted, and I looked up at him. I was struck by his looks. His eyes were an incredible blue, but they seemed cold, too. It was like gazing at a beautiful, frozen lake."

"What happened? Why am I here, and who are you?" I managed to ask.

"Well, you ran straight into my car, and I guess here we are," he uttered with simple words.

I had no idea who he was, but I couldn't deny the situation I was in. However, I couldn't blame him—I was the one running, and I was drunk, so my steps weren't very steady.

I tried to sit up, and his gentle hands came to help me. "Be careful," he whispered.

It felt strange to me, as I hadn't received such care before. Many men who had crossed paths with me had only looked down on me like I was nothing, nothing more than a tool to quench their desires.

"So, do you want to tell me what happened? Who were you running from, or were you trying to commit suicide?" he questioned, his brow furrowed.

"It's nothing," I said, cutting the topic off. "Thank you for saving me and bringing me here to get treatment."

"You shouldn't really be thanking me. I couldn't just leave you there to die," he said, his hand gently touching my wrist, his eyes fixed on mine.

I truly owed him all the thanks. Not everyone would have taken that step. Most would have left the body or buried it, or even run over it again as they drove off.

"I-I need a phone," I whispered.

Mom must have been worried. I didn't come home last night, and the last thing I wanted was for her to be hooked up, thinking about my whereabouts in her current state.

"I need to call someone. Please, I need a phone," I pleaded in another whisper.

I watched his hands reach for his phone in his pocket, bringing it out and handing it to me. I opened it up and dialed my mom's number, calling my house landline, which persisted in ringing on and on, leaving me with no answer.

"They didn't pick up," his voice came through.

"Yeah, I think I'll try again," I replied, dialing the number once more, but there was still no response. Growing worried, I decided to try Mr. Ambrose’s landline instead, hoping he could check on my mom and let her know I was okay.

"I'll be right back," he said, standing up as I watched him leave the room.

My mind remained focused on the call, which persisted for a while before he finally picked it up.

"Good morning, Mr. Ambrose. Please can you--" I began.

"You! So you finally called," he uttered, a burning rage apparent in his tone.

"If this is about the money, Mr. Ambrose, we already discussed this. Please, can you check on my mom? I know it's a lot to ask, but--"

"Money? You can keep your damn money. I don't want you anywhere near the house. I never expected my life to be on the line for your sake," he said, cutting me off.

"Your life? On the line? What do you mean, Mr. Ambrose? I can't leave the house. My mom is sick; just give me a few more days to gather the money."

"Oh, it seems you don't know."

"Know what?"

"Well, while you were having fun last night, some men came in and attacked your mother." His words left a numb ringing in my ears, my face paling as I jolted.

"Attacked my mom?" I stammered through each word.

"What are you saying, Mr. Ambrose? What do you mean my mom got attacked?"

"If you want details, why don't you go check on her at St. Margaret's Hospital? Thankfully, I was let off with some threats and a minor attack; otherwise, I'd be dead by now. I don't want to ever see your face here in my house, Sierra. Don't even think of stepping foot here."

"Please, Mr. Ambrose, is my mom okay? Is she alright? Please tell me what happened, Mr. Ambrose." My pleas were met with an echo of silence as he hung up the call.

I laid the phone down on the bedside table.

"Mom? Why? Who could have done this?" Many questions resonated through each thought, but one thing was clear: I had to check on my mom. I had to see if she was okay. Nothing must happen to her.

My eyes flickered around, blurred by my tears that came crumbling down.

I carefully removed the IV drip and disconnected the blood transfusion line attached to my arm. I tried to steady myself as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, but as soon as I stood, my legs gave out, and I crumpled to the ground.

"I'm coming, Mom. I'm coming. Just wait for me," I said, using the bed as support, trying to get back up. My steps moved in a hazardous manner as I leaned against the wall for support.

Leaving my room ward, I gave a swift glance to the right and left for any nurses passing by. With none in sight, I picked up my pace, walking through the little crowd as I managed a way out of the hospital.

My breath was shaky, and my legs were almost giving way as I struggled through the street, limping with each step.

I couldn't even hail a cab; I had no money for that. How could my life possibly turn so much against me?

Luckily, the St. Margaret's hospital wasn't that far ahead. After a painful walk, I finally arrived at the hospital and approached the receptionist.

"Please, I'm here to see my mom. Where is she, please?" I mumbled, my hands cradling on the receptionist's desk as I leaned for support.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" The nurse's eyes flickered with concern, taking in my disheveled state.

I admit I wasn't healthy yet, but that wasn't my primary concern. The least it could do was leave me unconscious again, but I needed to see my mom and ensure she was okay.

"Please, Nurse, just tell me where my mom is. Her name is Emily Monroe." The nurse's gaze remained on me for a few seconds before refocusing on the screen displayed in front of her, presumably a tablet. Her fingers swiped through each page, scanning each name.

“She’s in Ward C, Room 305," the nurse replied, pointing down the corridor. "Take the elevator to the third floor, turn left, and her room will be the fifth door on the right.” The nurse uttered, prompting me to rush hurriedly toward the elevator. I tapped the third floor button, and the elevator doors slowly closed. I cradled my hands, and it gently lifted me up, arriving at the third floor. I rushed out, my eyes scanning and trying to locate my mom's ward without getting lost.

As my eyes caught sight of my mom's ward, I rushed inside without a second thought.

"Mom, Mom! Where is my mom?" I uttered breathlessly, my voice shaky with each attempt to utter another word.

The nurse's and doctor's eyes fixed on me, and between them, I witnessed a lady whose face had been covered up.

"Emily Monroe, time of death: 9:00 AM. Died through excessive bleeding," I heard the doctor utter.

My legs froze at the distance, my heart beating with each pound. My steps moved slowly, approaching further. The nurse and doctor present left the ward, leaving me alone to echo in my despair.

"Mom? Y-You can't do this to me, Mom. You just can't..." I uttered, my voice barely audible, overcome by my weeping breaths and the tears streaming down my eyes. I found myself crumbling to the ground, my hands gently cradling at the clothes as I slowly removed them, only for my eyes to gaze upon my mom's lifeless body.

How could this be? She couldn't just leave me like this. How could she do this to me? She was my only family left, the only one I had, and the only reason I saw for living.

But now she was gone, just like the rest I had known, and I was left alone in the end.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I wasn't there to protect you. I wasn't there to save you when this happened. I'm sorry, Mom. It's all my fault. Please, Mom, don't go. Please don't leave me here all alone, Mom. Please!" My hands tapped, hoping for her to wake up, hoping for her to just open her eyes.

To feel those warm hugs of hers again.

But I was left glaring at the truth. It felt like my heart had shattered into millions of pieces at the very sight. I couldn't catch any glimpse of understanding.

My eyes downcast, followed by my continuous weeping, persisted for many minutes until they ceased to flood anymore.

Wiping away the tears, my eyes caught sight of something on my mom's palm. As I opened up her clutched hand, my eyes landed on a ring necklace, with a symbol drawn around it. It felt like a shroud of pain hitting me as it all came to my remembrance.

It was the same ring necklace that I had witnessed around Demonic's neck while he ordered those students' deaths. Could this be them?

Could they have possibly found out that the one who witnessed it was me?

So my mom was dead, all because of me.

I had joined the club to save my mom, and in the same club, I had lost my mom.

"This can't be happening!" I yelled.

"It can't, no! Why? Why did this happen? Just why?"