Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137: "What’s Rightfully Mine"

Nazario let out a leisurely yawn as the eight men lunged at his brother all at once.

In truth, he had arrived in this high-ceilinged section of the chain-link maze long before revealing himself.

He had remained hidden in a distant corner, leaning casually against another stretch of fencing while watching his brother brawl with the men — just as he continued to do now.

There had been no point in joining the party too early.

Jordan was bigger than he was, with heavier muscles and greater endurance. The smartest strategy wasn’t to challenge Jordan at his strongest, but to let others wear him down first before lifting a finger himself.

With that plan firmly in mind, Nazario settled more comfortably against the chain-link fence. The faint smirk never left his face as he watched the blurred silhouettes collide violently in the darkness.

Throughout it all, Jordan never loosened his grip on the coin. He clutched it tightly in one fist, using the added weight of the brass disk to drive savage punches into his opponents’ faces.

Blow after blow landed with crushing force.

The soldiers absorbed brutal kicks and bone-rattling impacts that left them staggering, coughing blood, and barely able to remain standing.

Yet the astronomical sum Natalia Porto had promised them outweighed broken bones. Not one of them dared abandon the task.

Five minutes stretched into ten.

Ten became fifteen.

Gradually, Jordan began to feel the relentless toll of the battle.

Under ordinary circumstances, hours of brutal combat would never have troubled him, but he had already endured two punishing falls from nearly ten feet above.

Now, he was fighting eight highly trained opponents who attacked without pause.

Inevitably, his movements began to slow. The punches that had once landed with bone-breaking force no longer carried quite the same devastating power.

Nazario noticed the change almost immediately. The smirk tugging at his lips slowly widened.

Still utterly unhurried, he pushed himself away from the chain-link wall and began stretching.

He extended both arms, interlocked his fingers, then slowly twisted his torso from side to side, looking less like a man preparing to enter a fight than an athlete leisurely warming up before a morning jog.

Finally, he lowered himself into a sprinter’s crouch. His eyes narrowed in the darkness as he waited for the perfect moment.

The instant Jordan drove a powerful front kick into one soldier’s chest to create space, Nazario moved.

Driving off his trailing foot, he exploded forward in a fast sprint, shooting straight into the heart of the melee.

Swoosh!

Jordan sensed the disturbance instantly.

He twisted his shoulders just in time, narrowly avoiding Nazario’s fist as it whipped past his cheek.

Of course, the attack didn’t end there.

Nazario specialized in relentless combinations.

In the very next instant, his hips snapped around. His knee rocketed upward, crashing brutally into Jordan’s abdomen.

THUD!

"Gotcha, brother," Nazario mumbled, somehow still sounding sleepy.

The impact folded Jordan over as the air burst from his lungs.

"Hurgh—"

Even through the searing pain, Jordan tightened his core, seized Nazario firmly by the shoulder, and drove an elbow straight into his brother’s jaw.

THWACK!

"Finally stopped being a coward and brought your face here for me to smash, huh?" Jordan muttered.

Nazario failed to avoid the elbow completely. The strike clipped his cheekbone, splitting the skin and drawing blood.

Rather than angering him, however, both the pain and Jordan’s taunt only seemed to excite him further, wiping away every last trace of sleepiness.

"HA HA HA!"

Laughing wildly, Nazario hurled his entire body forward, driving Jordan backward until his brother’s back slammed hard into the chain-link wall.

CLANG—RATTLE!

"Tch... you mad bastard!"

With a curse, Jordan grabbed Nazario, spun them around, and slammed him into the fence instead, his fist shooting forward.

Whoosh!

Nazario ducked in one fluid motion, leaving Jordan’s knuckles to smash painfully into the steel mesh instead.

Before Jordan could recover, Nazario shoved him violently backward once again.

From that point onward, the fight descended into complete chaos.

The two brothers tore into one another like feral beasts in the darkness, hurling each other into one chain-link wall after another.

Every collision sent metallic shrieks reverberating throughout the chamber while the eight soldiers scrambled frantically out of the way, terrified of being caught in the crossfire.

"Oh, come on, brother!" Nazario laughed. "Is that all you’ve got to call yourself the heir?! Show me all that undefeated champion bullshit!"

His head slammed squarely into Jordan’s nose.

THWACK!

Blood sprayed from Jordan’s nostrils.

"Fuck you, Nazario!"

Nazario refused to give him even a heartbeat to recover.

Palm strikes.

Elbows.

Low kicks.

Every attack targeted a vulnerable point with terrifying precision — the throat, the groin, the temples — not blows meant to overpower, but blows meant to cripple.

Jordan fought desperately to keep up.

He managed to drive a heavy knee into Nazario’s chest, but Nazario answered immediately with another vicious kick buried deep into Jordan’s core.

Jordan staggered back several paces.

His knees trembled.

’Damn it.’

’At this rate I’ll get stuck here forever fighting him.’

’I’ll only end up losing all my strength and my coin.’

He clenched his teeth.

’No.’

’I’ve got to find Ariana now.’

’She might be in danger.’

’I can’t stay here forever.’

The decision came instantly.

Dodging Nazario’s next strike, Jordan abandoned the fight altogether.

He pivoted on his heel and sprinted back into the chain-link corridors, racing toward the brighter section of the maze and the route leading beyond.

Nazario recognized his intention to flee at once.

’Fucking coward.’

A manic grin spread across his face as he shouted toward the watching soldiers.

"Come on, you losers! What the fuck are you standing there for?! He’s running away! Catch him!"

At his command, the men finally snapped out of their daze. One after another, they surged after Jordan.

"Yes, sir!"

"Get the Young Boss!"

"Stop him!"

They threw themselves at him from every direction.

Jordan slipped past some of them, but others crashed into him head-on, slamming him hard into the chain-link wall blocking his path.

One man yanked him backward by the collar.

A heavy boot crashed into the back of his knee, forcing him down onto one leg.

Before he could recover, two men seized his left arm and wrenched it painfully behind his back while a third drove a brutal elbow into the center of his spine.

THUD!

"Hurg—"

Jordan let out a choked gasp as the combined force slammed him face-first onto the cold concrete.

"That’s right, you suckers!" Nazario’s voice rang out above the chaos. "Hold him there! Don’t let him get up! Strip him of that coin now!"

Instantly, all eight men threw their full body weight onto Jordan, piling atop him like a mountain of iron and muscle.

"Give us the coin, Young Boss!"

"Open your hand! Open your fucking hand!"

"Pry his fingers back!"

Heavy boots pinned his legs.

Thick arms locked around his neck.

One man yanked his right arm into the open while another forced it flat against the concrete and held it there.

They immediately began prying at his clenched fingers, trying to force them open and seize the coin.

Crushed beneath the combined weight of eight grown men, Jordan locked his jaw.

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

THWACK!

’No... I can’t black out.’

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