Nazario merely shrugged, looking almost bored.
"You’ve only got yourself and that simple little mind of yours to blame, brother. You’re so damn predictable."
He stepped closer, his head tilting with amusement.
"All I had to do was have a few men follow you, and sooner or later I’d find out what you were cooking up. Sneaking in and out of the maintenance room, hmm? It wasn’t exactly subtle."
The words ignited Oscar’s temper instantly.
"You shameless bastard!"
With a furious roar, he launched himself at Nazario, his fist cocked back.
"You don’t get to lecture me like you’re not planning something even dirtier than I am!"
The surrounding guards gasped.
Several instinctively moved to intervene, but none of them were fast enough.
Oscar’s fist tore through the air with every ounce of fury he possessed, aimed squarely at Nazario’s face.
Nazario never moved.
Not until the very last instant.
Just before the punch connected, he tilted his head a fraction to the side, allowing Oscar’s fist to slice harmlessly past his cheek.
Then he struck.
THWACK!
His fist buried itself deep into the center of Oscar’s ribs.
"Hurgh—!"
The impact was sickening. It felt less like being punched and more like being rammed by a speeding vehicle.
Oscar felt something inside him crack. His lungs emptied violently, and a spray of blood burst from his mouth before he could even draw another breath.
Before he could even process the agony—
Another punch came.
THWACK!
This one slammed straight into the opposite side of his ribcage with enough force to fold him in half.
Several nearby guards visibly flinched.
Oscar’s six companions stared in frozen horror.
Nazario’s movements were terrifyingly economical — light, precise, almost effortless. Yet each blow landed with such brutal efficiency that they resembled surgical executions rather than punches exchanged between brothers.
Oscar collapsed to both knees, his arms instinctively wrapping around his shattered ribs as ragged gasps tore from his throat.
He lasted barely another second before the agony overwhelmed him completely.
His body pitched forward.
He crashed face-first at Nazario’s feet.
"Mister Oscar!"
"Oscar!"
His companions surged toward him, but before they could reach him, Nazario lazily swung out one leg.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
The kicks were not merely meant to stop them. Each landed with enough force to leave them doubled over in agony, ending any thought of charging him again.
The men stumbled backward, clutching their stomachs as pain stole the strength from their legs.
Oscar lay sprawled across the floor, barely able to breathe. Blood stained the corner of his mouth as he slowly lifted his head with immense effort, glaring up at his brother with equal measures of hatred and disbelief.
"You... N-Nazario... how could you..."
He coughed, another trickle of blood spilling over his lips.
"H-how could you hit me that hard...?"
Despite the agony wracking his body, his voice suddenly rose.
"How could you do that to Jordan?! To your own family?!"
Nazario looked down at him as though observing an insect pinned beneath his shoe.
"Oh?"
VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Every Mafia's Favorite Girl
Excellent novel! Highly recommend reading. ✨️...
So, Caio had a full-on sexual relationship with Ariana Lombardi for a while it seems, he supplied her drugs while he used her body. No wonder she was messed up. Now, Aren he wants to own her like some kind of commodity & keep her permanently in his mansion - guilded cage anyone? 🙄🤦♀️...