My Mafia Brother Gave Me to the Acid

The moment the acid hit my skin, I heard my own flesh sizzle.

In the last moments before my consciousness faded, my trembling fingers managed to dial my brother, the new Don of the Steele family.

To my relief, Farrow finally answered.

The sounds of expensive jazz and clinking glasses bled through the receiver. His voice was cold as ice.

"What is it this time, Grace?"

"Farrow... help me..."

He cut me off before I could finish.

"Listen, Betty's book launch is tomorrow night. If you dare cause a scene or embarrass the Family, I'll disown you. I'll ship you off to a convent in Sicily."

The line went dead.

A moment later, a second splash of acid hit my face, and the searing agony consumed me.

My eyes were gone, leaving nothing but hollow, bloody sockets.

You don't need to exile me, Farrow.

I'm already gone. Forever.

When the sulfuric acid hit my face, I spent my last ounce of strength calling my brother, the Don. He dismissed it as just another one of my tantrums.

"Grace, if you dare miss Betty's book launch tomorrow, I'll make you regret it."

The moment the call was disconnected, the burning pain stole my last breath.

You don't have to bother this time, my brother. I'll disappear for you. Forever.

Death is not the end, at least not for me.

My soul drifted above the abandoned chemical plant, the air thick with the stench of rust and chemicals, watching Farrow's men moving below.

The brazenness of the attack sent shockwaves through the underworld.

The man in charge of this whole messy affair was none other than the new Don of the Steele family: my brother, Farrow.

I watched as my own broken body was dragged from behind a pile of stinking industrial waste barrels.

The face was unrecognizable, the limbs twisted at unnatural angles.

Fate is a cruel bitch.

Even in death, I was still Farrow's problem.

Several black, armored cars were parked nearby. The doors opened, and Farrow stepped into the mud.

He approached, his face a cold mask, followed by the Family's consigliere, Uncle Zac.

"What's the situation?" Farrow's voice was low, laced with cold fury.

The capo in charge of the scene paled, bowing his head. "Don, the victim... is unidentifiable. The face was completely destroyed by acid, and the fingerprints have been filed off."

"The methods were brutal. This was a statement."

"We also believe... she was tortured extensively before she died."

A grim silence fell over the crew as they listened to the cruel details.

"These bastards!" someone growled through clenched teeth.

"Poor kid. Can't imagine what she went through."

Farrow narrowed his eyes at the black body bag. A body dumped on his turf, killed this way... it was a slap in the face to the Steele family.

"Find them."

"Whoever did this, I'll tear them limb from limb. I want them skinned alive and their hides hanging in Times Square."

Uncle Zac sighed and patted his shoulder. "Looks like this will keep you busy for a few days. You'll probably have to miss dinner with Grace."

Zac had been my father's right-hand man, a senior member of our family.

After my father's death, he had guided Farrow like a godfather, helping him take control of the family business.

At the mention of my name, Farrow's face twisted in disgust.

"Don't say her name in front of me! She's nothing but bad luck!"

"I don't give a damn about dinner with her. All I care about is making sure Betty's launch goes off without a hitch."

Uncle Zac tried to say something else, "But..."

His words were an invisible whip, lashing my ethereal soul.

Five years ago, a bomb was planted in our parents' car.

That inferno burned more than just the car; it turned the bond between Farrow and me to ash.

He was convinced that I had leaked their location, that I had gotten Mom and Dad killed.

From that day on, the brother who'd carry me on his back and run a whole block just to buy me ice cream was gone.

Later, he saved an orphan girl during a firefight.

After learning of her pitiful background, he brought her home and adopted her as his sister.

She was much better at charming him than I ever was, finding ways, subtle or not, to paint me as a useless screw-up.

Farrow believed her more and more. I was the true Steele heir, but from that day on, I was the outcast.

Before I died, he was furious that I might disrupt Betty's event.

If he knew that mangled corpse was me, he'd probably just turn and walk away in disgust.

After all, no one in this world wanted me to disappear more than he did.

I'm finally dead, brother. The Steele bloodline is pure again.

You should be happy, shouldn't you?