Pretending to Be an Untouchable Crime Boss-Chapter 12: A Monster Other Side.

As Penelope stood there, still somewhat frozen from the gun that had been at her head, Hector was sprinting through the hospital.

He pushed past others without a second thought before bursting out the doors and jumping into his car.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Ferucci said, standing up from the pavement where he had been smoking. He watched as Hector's car sped out of the parking lot at full throttle.

"That psychopath barked at us to leave him alone with James, and now he's running away?" Bella spat on the ground, her expression darkening. "And that bitch dared to go near my love? I'm going to kill both of them."

"No, you're not." Hans said coolly. "And be careful what you say."

Bella snapped her head toward him. "What did you just say to me?!"

Hans let out a quiet sigh as he walked toward his own car.

"You barely know Hector." He said, glancing at her. "He's the very definition of a fucking monster. One wrong word, and you're done for. So watch yourself. Bye."

With that, he waved lazily before getting into his car.

"He's right," Ferucci said. "Don't fuck with Hector. He almost killed me once just for smiling at James too much." He exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"The world would be better if he did." Bella smirked at Ferucci. "But why is he that dangerous? You and I are monsters too—or at least, that's what people say."

Ferucci flicked his cigarette away. "He was the first to become a Bellini. That means he outranks both me and Hans. And the way he became one... it's terrifying."

He turned and started walking toward his car.

"Don't leave me here without a proper answer!" Bella shouted after him.

Ferucci stopped and looked back at her, his gaze dark and serious. "He was the one who carried out the Railway Station Massacre. Burn that into your mind."

With that, he got into his car and drove away, leaving Bella frozen in place.

She had only ever heard whispers that the Railway Station Massacre was carried out on James's orders. But now, hearing Ferucci confirm it with certainty, an even greater fear settled over her—fear of James and of Hector.

That day had been nothing short of sheer terror.

Twelve government officials had been chained to the railway tracks, left to meet a gruesome fate as an oncoming train tore through them.

But that horror alone hadn't been enough. After the massacre, parts of their remains were collected by "someone" and hung from different lampposts around Parliament—it was a message.

And that "somebody" was now entering a children's hospital nearby.

He was running, his breath short and uneven.

When he finally arrived at the room, he paused before the door, wiping the sweat from his neck and face. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his suit and stepped inside.

The scene before him was heartbreaking.

Machines beeped steadily in the room, their rhythmic sounds filling the quiet space. In the center of it all was a hospital bed, where a little girl lay, her frail body connected to countless tubes and wires. A hat covered her head, concealing the hair she had likely lost.

The look on the girl's face was as if she had seen a ghost. But a moment later, tears began rolling down her cheeks.

As Hector stepped inside, he noticed another woman sitting nearby. Her eyes burned with anger—an anger ready to explode—but instead, only a single question escaped her lips.

"Where were you...?"

And then, more tears.

She stood up, her steps growing quicker as she closed the distance between them. Her fists clenched, trembling with barely restrained emotion. Then, weakly yet deliberately, she struck Hector's chest.

"Where... were you?" She asked again, her voice thick with frustration and disappointment.

But before she could hit him again, Hector suddenly pulled her into a tight hug.

"Let... me go!" She tried to fight back, but his hold was warm, strong—unshakable.

"I'm here now, Mom..." He whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm here now."

And just like that, the resistance crumbled. His mother clung to him, sobbing like a child.

When Hector finally pulled away, he turned toward the hospital bed, his expression softening.

A bright, genuine smile spread across his face—one that held no malice, no menace, only warmth.

"I'm here, Amanda."

Carefully, mindful of the tubes and wires, Amanda hugged him as tightly as her frail body allowed.

"I missed you, Hector..." She whispered..

Hector reached out, his hand trembling as he gently traced the contours of her pale face.

"I have the money, Amanda." He said, his voice thick with emotion. "I have it..."

His eyes, filled with unshed tears, locked onto hers. But before Amanda could respond, the steady beeping of the heart monitor quickened.

Her heart rate spiked—her emotions speaking before her words ever could.

"Don't lie..."

His mother's voice came from behind him, weak yet filled with something deeper than sorrow.

As Hector turned around, he saw her already falling to her knees.

"Don't lie, Hector..."

She collapsed completely, her body drained, her face emotionless. There were no more tears left to cry.

But Hector only needed to say one name.

"James Bellini."

At that, his mother's lifeless gaze lifted. Slowly, she rose to her feet, stepping toward Hector before wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.

"We can pay for the surgeries and the medicine, Mom." Hector whispered. "Because of him..."

His mother pulled back just enough to cup his face in her trembling hands.

"I forgive you, Hector." She said, her voice breaking. "I forgive everything—the fact that you weren't here, the thing you became—because you did it all for her, didn't you?"

Finally, tears began to fall again.

"I'm sorry, my son. I'm so sorry..." She sobbed, holding him tighter.

Amanda, watching them, couldn't hold back any longer. She shifted forward and squeezed herself between them, wanting to be part of the hug.

"Am I going to be normal?" She asked, her innocent eyes searching Hector's for response.

He smiled, pressing his forehead gently against hers.

"You're going to be the prettiest girl in the world." He promised.

And then, he hugged her as if he would never let go.

"But enough of this." Hector said, standing up. "I won't shed any tears until your wedding day, when the time comes." He turned to his mother, his expression shifting. "Can we talk, Mom?"

She kissed Amanda gently on the forehead before stepping outside with Hector. "We'll be back soon, darling."

As Hector opened his mouth to speak, his mother placed a firm hand over it, silencing him.

"I don't care." She said, her unwavering eyes locking onto his. "You are what you are, and I just don't care anymore, Hector. I love you—because I'm your mother. And I will love you even if... even if—"

"That's enough for me." Hector interrupted, pulling her into a hug.

He held her tightly before whispering, "But once Amanda's surgeries and therapy are done, you'll both need to change your names and go far away from here. Because—"

"I understand." She cut him off gently. "You don't need to say more."

She hugged him again, this time holding on just a little longer.

Meanwhile, James was munching on the ice cream Penelope had given him, savoring each bite without a care.

The atmosphere between them, however, was tense—almost freezing.

She still couldn't shake the fear lingering inside her, the growing realization of just how dangerous it was to be around James.

"Is this where we're supposed to go on a date?" He asked, licking the small spoon of ice cream.

Penelope let out a faint smile, still avoiding his gaze. "Well, yes... but I need to apologize," she admitted. "I actually told your brother that we're lovers."

"I know," James said casually, still sucking on the spoon like a child. "You did it to save yourself and the family, am I right?"

Penelope froze, her body growing even stiffer. The way he said it so easily, so matter-of-factly, sent a shiver down her spine.

"If yes... is that a problem?" she asked hesitantly.

James chuckled, his amusement almost unsettling. "Don't worry." he said, flashing a grin. "You're not part of your father's organization, so you wouldn't die.

"Thank you... I guess." She whispered.

"So with that, you can go home," James said as he finally finished his ice cream.

"No."

Penelope's answer was quick—too quick. Her face flushed, betraying her emotions.

Just go away. Why do you have to be like this?

"You know," James said casually, tilting his head, "even if you stay close to me, your father can still die."

Penelope clenched her fists, but instead of backing down, she finally met his gaze.

"And what if I genuinely like you?" She asked, her voice steady, her eyes searching for an answer.

James stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable.

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Then you will die... by Bella's hands.

"Well, I'm older than you. You're 18." James said, his tone calm but firm. "And my emotions... at the moment, they're not exactly suited for love."

"Then I'll wait." Penelope replied without hesitation.

She stood up, locking eyes with James, determination flickering in her gaze.

"I'll wait for your emotions." She repeated.

But as soon as the words left her lips, embarrassment hit her like a wave. Her face turned red, and before James could say anything, she spun around and stormed out of the room.

Finally silence ahh i need to leave this place...