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Chapter 149: Illusion of Control

Autor: David Writes
last update Data de publicação: 2026-05-24 02:57:59

Levi’s POV

I hung up, slamming the receiver and running my hand through my hair in frustration. Just then, Miller walked in.

“Have you been able to locate them?” I asked. The look on his face told me his answer would be disappointing.

“Our men are still searching for them. But there's no update yet,” he responded.

“Bullshit!” I barked, picking up a glass award from my desk and tossing it at the wall, smashing it into pieces. My mind was running more than a mile a minute. I had dealt with the
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  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 149: Illusion of Control

    Levi’s POVI hung up, slamming the receiver and running my hand through my hair in frustration. Just then, Miller walked in. “Have you been able to locate them?” I asked. The look on his face told me his answer would be disappointing. “Our men are still searching for them. But there's no update yet,” he responded. “Bullshit!” I barked, picking up a glass award from my desk and tossing it at the wall, smashing it into pieces. My mind was running more than a mile a minute. I had dealt with the De Lucases before, and it wasn't a pleasant experience. The only way we could beat them was to strike faster than they could react. My intention was to get Luciano to lead me to the Marcello files so that way he has no leverage against me. But it was a double-edged sword. Because now that he had the files, he could damn near destroy me. And I couldn't afford that. “How hard can it be to find two fucking guys?!” I complained. “We've got all the tech in the world, all the connections imaginable

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 148: The Hunt Begins

    Luciano’s POV ( present)About half an hour after we escaped from the burning chapel, we found our way to the safehouse, where Dante, my wife, and kids were. We parked our car by the corner, and Jose and I got out and ran towards the building, trying to avoid the rain from soaking the files we got. We got upstairs to the door and knocked. The door opened immediately, and Mariella ran to hug me.“Geez, y'all should get yourselves a room,” Jose whined, squeezing himself through the tiny space between us and the doorframe and walking inside.“Looks like someone missed me,” I teased. “Shut up! Do you know how worried I was?” She hit me on the shoulder. “She was complaining the whole time,” Dante said, making me laugh. Well, I wasn't surprised. Mariella had always been a worrywart.“Well, I'm here now. You can stop worrying, okay?” I tugged on her cheeks, kissing her forehead. She wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my chest.“Will you two just get inside? We have work to d

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 147: The Making of a Monster

    Luciano’s POV —London, 2012The attic door suddenly slammed open so hard that the sound nearly made both of us jump out of our skin.Jose flinched violently, and I was already on my feet before my brain even caught up. My father stood in the doorway. And as usual, the smell of alcohol filled the room. But unlike most nights, he wasn't stumbling. He seemed eerily sober, and that was the terrifying part. His eyes were completely clear, and behind him stood another man.I had never seen him before.He was tall, really tall. And unusually thin too, so much that I could still notice it despite the black coat he wore. A long scar stretched from the corner of his jaw down toward his neck, and his facial expression looked empty in an uncanny way. Jose slowly stood up behind me.“Papa?” he asked uncertainly. My father ignored him completely. The stranger's eyes scanned the attic slowly before settling on us.“Which one?” he asked in Italian, sending a cold feeling crawling down my spine.My

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 146: Kings of the Attic

    Luciano’s POV – London, 2012Yet another two years had passed, and life hadn't gotten any easier, at least not in terms of our training. However, you could say by now, we had gotten pretty used to life without Mom. So much so that it now almost seemed normal for our dad to crash out at us and beat us. And though we would pretend to be in extreme pain whenever he beat us, we had gotten so used to it that we barely felt any pain at all. Also, now, Jose and I have a new favorite place in the house. Since the cellar was used mostly for gruesome training, we decided to make the attic our place to just chill and have fun every now and then. To be honest, besides the attic, which we had renovated ourselves, the rest of the manor looked horrible. And felt that way too. The house always reeked of whiskey. The hallways were always quiet. We have a lot fewer staff now than we used to. Even the gardens outside had long since been ruined by weeds and neglect. But up here, things felt different

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 145: The Lesson

    Luciano’s POV – London, 2010The cold kept getting worse. My fingers felt numb, and my legs ached from standing, but Jose refused to stop. I could see tiny cuts already forming on his hands, and he would hiss quietly every now and then when he got pricked. “Why don't you take a break?” I told him.“No,” he muttered immediately. Judging by his voice, I could tell he was frustrated. I mean, I was too, and I hadn't even done anything. I stared at him quietly. With the look on his face, there wasn't much point in persuading him to stop. He might as well do it till he tires himself out. I sat down on the floor to rest, my body extremely tired. I would steal glances at Jose every few seconds — half hoping that he would unlock the door and half certain that he couldn't. I crouched in a fetal position, resting my head on my knees to see if I could take a nap when suddenly, there was loud click sound.My eyes snapped to the door and Jose and I froze. We looked at ourselves and back at the

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 144: The Way Out

    Luciano’s POV – London, 2010Jose wiped his nose with the back of his hand, a sudden fierce resolve flashing through his tears. He nodded. “Okay. No fighting. But how do we get out?” He looked behind him, at the iron door. “We definitely aren't strong enough to break it.”“Who said anything about breaking it?” I asked. “The old man said we should fight or find a way out together. It's a survival test, Jose. He wants to see if we have what it takes to survive. That's the point.”Jose looked at me with a confused expression. “I still don't understand how that's gonna help us get out.” I didn't answer him immediately. Instead, I walked closer to the door, trying to see if we could get to the lock from behind.The cellar was freezing cold now. The concrete walls sweated with moisture and the faint smell of rust and mildew filled the air. I ran my fingers over the thick iron lock, trying to see if there was any weakness to it at all. Apparently, there wasn't even a single one. The door l

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 35: The Loudest Clock

    Mariella's POVThe empty dark room suddenly morphed into an old memory of the Old District. I looked around and saw a couple of outdated cars parked right outside the bustling motel, right after the building I stood in front of, the three-storey building just after the warehouse in the corner.Whi

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 33: The Fox and the Saint

    Mariella’s POV“W-What?” I stuttered. “Don't play dumb with me. I noticed it the last time, too – at the fountain. You see things when you touch people, don't you?” He asked.I was flabbergasted. I didn't know how to wiggle my way out of this one because even if I knew the right words to say to br

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 30: The Puppet Master

    Mariella’s POVLuciano was about to walk both of us into a trap. The fact that he totally trusted Dante didn't sit well with me, especially given the vision from the fountain and the words Charlie told me. “Luciano,” I said, grabbing his hand. “I… I need to tell you something. About my father. Abo

  • 280 Days With The Mafia King   Chapter 29: The Enemy Within

    Mariella’s POVThe words on the crumpled piece of paper were seared into my mind: The ghost always leaves a trail. I was well aware that my dad was a ghost, not in the literal sense of the word. He was the man the De Luca family counted on to move money in the shadows so the De Lucas could maintain

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