Haunting the mafia don in 90 days

“Don’t be a moron!”

A deep, masculine voice thundered through Kaia’s earpiece so sharply that she flinched, the sound vibrating down her spine. The phone nearly slipped from her trembling hand as she clutched it tighter against her ear.

The voice was unfamiliar, low, commanding, the kind that didn’t need to shout to make itself obeyed. Yet it had shouted, and the insult stung.

Her brows furrowed. “Who’s this?” she demanded, her voice thin and shaky. Her free hand pressed against her chest, trying to calm the sudden pounding of her heart.

A second later, a small voice cried from the background, fragile, terrified, and heartbreakingly familiar.

“Mommy? Mommy, please let me go to my mommy!”

Kaia froze. The world tilted. Her breath hitched so sharply it hurt.

“Kai?” she whispered, her throat tight, tears already filling her eyes. “Oh goodness… Kai!”

Her son’s muffled sobs echoed from the other end of the call. The sound carved into her chest like a knife.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” she begged, clutching the phone as if holding it closer would protect him.

“If you want him alive,” the man’s voice snapped, cutting her off, “don’t play smart.” His words carried the unmistakable authority of someone used to giving orders and being obeyed.

Kaia’s voice cracked as desperation overwhelmed her. “I’ll pay you, any amount you want. Just name your price, but please, don’t hurt my son.”

She could barely speak through her tears. They rolled freely down her cheeks, dripping onto her trembling hands.

From the background came Kai’s small, broken plea again.

“Mommy, please… I want my mommy…”

Her heart splintered.

The man spoke again, colder this time. “An address will be sent to you. Be there in ten minutes… or lose your son.”

“Please, I’ll be there,” Kaia gasped out, panic rising in her chest. “Please don’t hurt him.”

“Good girl,” he replied, voice cruelly calm, then the line went dead.

The silence that followed was deafening. Kaia’s pulse thundered in her ears. She lowered the phone with trembling fingers, her stomach twisting with terror.

Then, ping.

A notification.

A message from a private number.

“Brandon Street, New Wesley South. Come alone or meet his dead body.”

Kaia’s knees weakened. The phone slipped from her hand and clattered onto the car seat beside her. Her throat constricted as dread and disbelief collided.

She took a deep breath, it came out shaky, broken. “Driver,” she said hoarsely, “turn around. Brandon Street, New Wesley South. Now!”

The chauffeur’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror. He said nothing, only gave a tight nod before spinning the wheel into a U-turn.

Kaia stared out the window, her reflection ghosted against the glass. Every building they passed blurred into streaks of gray and gold beneath the setting sun.

Her mind raced through fragments of memory, Kai’s laughter that morning when she kissed him goodbye, the way he waved from the school gate, his favorite toy tucked in his backpack. He had only been gone a few hours, but her heart already felt like it had aged decades.

Being a financial analyst had never been easy. Her work demanded long hours, constant travel, endless deadlines, yet she had always made time for Kai. She picked him up from school every day, attended every PTA meeting, and never missed a single birthday. She was mother and father in one, her life revolving around that little boy.

And now… someone had stolen him.

When she arrived at his school earlier, his classroom had been empty. His teacher, Miss Laura, had looked up from her desk with polite confusion.

“Your friend picked him up earlier,” she’d said.

Kaia had stared at her blankly.

“What friend?”

The woman had frowned.

“She said you sent her.”

Kaia had no friends. No relatives nearby. No one she trusted enough to pick up her son. That was the moment the world went silent around her. Her heartbeat had echoed in her ears like a drum.

Without another word, she’d rushed out of the office and into the nearest taxi, ordering the driver to take her straight to the police station. That was when her phone had rung.

The call that changed everything.

Now, as they sped through the streets, Kaia’s hands were locked together in prayer. “Please, goodness… let him be safe. Please.”

“Drive faster, please,” she urged the chauffeur. “Please!”

The driver’s knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. He didn’t speak, but his eyes flicked to her through the mirror. Something in his gaze made her uneasy. Then, without a word, he pressed down on the accelerator.

The car jerked forward.

After several sharp turns and long stretches of empty road, the vehicle slowed to a stop in front of an abandoned construction site.

Kaia looked out the window, her eyes met with rusted cranes loomed in the fading light, and the air smelled faintly of dust and metal. The place was silent. Too silent.

Her phone buzzed again. Another text.

“2 minutes left.”

Her chest tightened. Panic surged like a wave. She yanked the door open and stumbled out. “Wait here,” she said, but before the words finished leaving her mouth, the taxi screeched away, its tires kicking up clouds of dust.

Kaia spun around. “Hey!” she shouted, coughing as the dust stung her throat. The car disappeared down the road.

She turned back toward the site, scanning her surroundings. Empty trucks. Abandoned scaffolding. Sheets of metal stacked like skeletons of unfinished dreams. No sound but the faint whistle of wind.

She swallowed hard and gripped her phone. The number she tried to call flashed..Private Line. No answer.

Her voice cracked as she whispered into the air, “Please… I just want to see my son.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks again, hot and relentless. She stared at the message on her screen, rereading it until the words blurred.

Her knees trembled. Her fingers tightened around the phone. “Please,” she begged softly, “just let me see him…”

A sudden prick at the base of her neck made her gasp.

Pain, sharp and cold, spreading fast.

Her body stiffened. She tried to turn, but a strong hand clamped over her mouth, another gripping her head firmly from behind.

Her phone slipped from her fingers, landing in the dirt with a soft thud.

Kaia’s heart pounded as the world spun. Her vision began to dim, colors bleeding into one another.

She tried to fight, to scream, but her limbs no longer obeyed.

“Let… me see…” she whispered weakly, her voice barely a breath.

The last thing she saw was the faint silhouette o

f a man standing over her —tall, broad, his face hidden behind the shadows of the construction site’s steel frame.

Then everything went black.