The Don’s Fallen Angel

The night dew soaked my clothes, and the cold wind from the lake chilled me to the bone.

The road snaked and twisted. I gripped the guardrail, dragging myself upward one step at a time.

As dawn approached, I finally saw the brightly lit manor on the mountainside.

Just then, my burner phone rang. I quickly answered it.

The voice of the staff member from St. Jude's Church was impatient.

"Ms. Hayes, today is the final deadline to pay for the cemetery plot you reserved!"

"Have you gotten the money or not? If you don't have it, we'll have to give the spot to someone else!"

In my panic, I coughed up another mouthful of blood. I hastily wiped it clean and assured her.

"I'll get it! I'll definitely have it today!"

"Please, just wait a little longer. I promise I'll transfer the money by the end of the day."

After hanging up, I clutched the phone and used the last of my strength to press the intercom button at the manor gate.

When Samuel saw me, covered in blood, his eyes flickered for a barely perceptible moment.

I stumbled toward him, fell to my knees, and grabbed the hem of his trousers, my voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable.

"Samuel, I'm begging you, give me the five thousand dollars."

I held up a broken piece of metal in my hand, my voice choked with sobs.

"Samuel, you wanted your child, didn't you? I buried him. I used this to mark the spot. It's the St. Christopher medallion you gave me..."

But then Scarlett emerged from behind him. Her eyes narrowed as she said mockingly.

"Samuel, she's just playing the victim to get money out of you. She's pulled this kind of stunt before."

Samuel's expression instantly turned cold, and the flicker of emotion from moments before vanished without a trace.

He slapped the medallion fragment out of my hand and looked down on me as if I were a piece of trash.

"I told you to bring me my son, alive. Only then will you have any right to make demands of me!"

"Until then, I won't waste a single cent on you!"

Despair engulfed me.

I had no idea where else I could get five thousand dollars.

All I wanted was a peaceful death. What was so wrong with that? Why couldn't they give me even that one small mercy?

The pent-up grievances of three years, the pain of losing my child, the fury of being framed, the despair of not being allowed to die in peace...

It all surged forth in that moment, overwhelming my senses.

I don't know where I found the strength, but I stumbled forward and tackled Scarlett, knocking her onto the lawn.

Samuel rushed over to pull me off. His face twisted and distorted before my eyes, but I couldn't hear a sound.

I swung my arms numbly, slapping her face left and right.

My nails raked across her skin, leaving bloody scratches.

Like a madwoman, I repeated over and over.

"Why do you keep hurting me? Why!"

Then I turned on Samuel, who was trying to restrain me, clawing and beating at him, letting out a heart-wrenching scream.

"Why won't you believe me? Why? Why?!"

In the chaotic struggle, the rainy night from three years ago flashed before my eyes. Bullets shattered the car window. I desperately tried to shield the Don and Donna. Then, darkness, as the butt of a gun slammed into the back of my head.