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Chapter 64 - The Game's Bigger Than You Think

Penulis: Ms.O The Writer
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-05-22 19:50:30

The rain hadn’t stopped. It turned to mist along the Messina coastline, shrouding the van as it rumbled down the winding road. Inside, silence pressed like a second skin.

Talana sat in the back, peeling off her jacket. The graze on her shoulder was shallow, but it stung like hell. She winced as she cleaned it with a bottle of disinfectant Mariano had left in the first aid kit.

Across from her, Giovanni Spataro was tied, gagged, and unbothered. His eyes were closed, almost serene, as if he wasn’t being dragged across Sicily like a trophy corpse.

Lorenzo drove, his fingers twitching near the gearstick, eyes trained on the rearview mirror.

Massimo hadn’t said a word since they left Palermo. He sat beside Talana, gaze fixed out the window, jaw grinding. The betrayal, again, so close, so calculated, had silenced something in him. Not rage. Something deeper. A quiet promise of retaliation.

Talana leaned forward. “He knew they were coming. It was too precise. Too fast.”

Lorenzo nodded withou
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  • Bound By Mafia Blood   Chapter 126 - Coming For What's Mine

    The photograph sat on the desk like a relic from another life. Talana stared at it for the third hour straight, as if her mother might suddenly blink or speak from within the frame. The woman in the image looked older, gaunter, her face more drawn than Talana remembered, but the eyes were the same. Rosalina Sanchiano, alive in 2019. Or someone who wore her face.She couldn’t stop turning the question in her mind: "Was this the truth, or another carefully laid lie? A misdirection planted by De Marco before his fall? A ghost conjured to unsettle her?"Behind her, the door opened without a knock. Massimo stepped in, silent as shadow, a glass of water in his hand. He placed it beside her, brushing his fingers against hers. "Still no sleep angel?" he asked gently.She shook her head. "How can I sleep when every answer opens a deeper question?"Massimo looked at the photo, then the letter. He picked it up, scanned it again slowly, as if trying to absorb every stroke of the pen. When he fini

  • Bound By Mafia Blood   Chapter 125 - The Mask Of Memory

    The scent of old paper and cold stone filled the study buried beneath the east wing of the estate. Talana sat alone at the massive oak desk, the flickering lamplight casting her shadow long across the walls. Before her lay a single scrap of paper, aged, yellowed, but unmistakably deliberate.“La madre non è mai morta.”The mother was never dead.She must have read it at least twenty times already, memorized the slope of each letter, the smudge on the edge, the tilt of the final dot. It wasn’t Pablo’s handwriting. It wasn’t De Marco’s. It was from someone who wanted her to know something, or suffer from believing it.Her hands shook as she folded the note again. Was it real? A trap? Hope? Madness?The door creaked as Mariano entered, his steps slow, careful. He carried no gun, no files, no bravado. Just his eyes, which avoided hers.“Close the door,” Talana said quietly.He obeyed. The heavy click echoed like a judgment in the silence.She turned, lifting the note. “Who gave this to me

  • Bound By Mafia Blood   Chapter 124 -Mother's Not Dead

    Talana lingered in the kiss, letting her lips soften against his, the night wrapping around them like silk. When she finally pulled back, her forehead remained against Massimo’s chest. His heartbeat was steady, but low, a sound she had come to rely on like a compass in a world that had spun far too many times.“Do you think we’ll ever stop counting losses?” she whispered.Massimo didn’t answer right away. His hand found hers on the rail, fingers interlacing. “No,” he said. “But maybe we can stop bleeding from them.”They stood like that for a while, two warriors dressed in night air and silence. Below, the sea growled softly, as if trying to keep its secrets.A knock came at the door behind them. Massimo turned. His posture shifted, not tensed, not hostile, but alert. He glanced at Talana before moving back inside.“Come in.”It was Marco, one of Mariano’s oldest men, graying at the temples, trench lines etched into his face like carved marble. He held a leather-bound case against his

  • Bound By Mafia Blood   Chapter 123 - Family Not Furniture

    The Calabrian sun was mild that morning, wrapped in soft clouds that dulled the heat but did nothing to quiet the cicadas in the olive groves around the Sanchiano estate.It had been five days since Donatello and De Marco’s death had occurred. Five days since blood had been spilled in Croatia, since the cries of vengeance had quieted in the echoing tunnels beneath a forgotten fortress.Now, there was only wind and ghosts.Talana walked the hallways of the Sanchiano villa like someone still caught between time zones, past, present, and a future she couldn’t yet touch. Her boots whispered across the marble, dark hair still damp from her shower, her eyes dull with exhaustion.She stopped at Roberto’s study noticing that the door was ajar. The room still held his scent, the embracing scent that was his alone, sandalwood and pipe smoke, and the dust motes swirled like spirits in shafts of golden morning light. She stepped inside, brushing her fingers over the worn leather of his favorite c

  • Bound By Mafia Blood   Chapter 122 - Life Pushes Through Ashes

    The Croatian sky cracked open with lightning as the fortress crumbled behind them. Rain hissed against scorched stone, washing away the blood of war. The final battle had ended, but the silence that followed felt louder than gunfire.Donatello’s corpse lay in a canvas shroud beneath a ruined archway, limbs twisted, neck broken, the devil unmasked at last.Mariano stood over him, torch in hand, the flames flickering across his rain-slicked jaw. “He doesn’t deserve a grave,” he muttered.Talana said nothing, eyes hollow, as if she could already hear the echo of bones breaking down to dust. Massimo placed a hand on her back but didn’t speak.“Burn him,” Mariano said. “Let the world forget him, and let the flames remember.”No prayers were spoken. No crosses drawn. Mariano lit the torch and tossed it onto the oil-soaked shroud. Flames leapt like hungry wolves, devouring what remained of Donatello’s legacy. The stench of burning flesh mingled with the metallic tang of gunpowder.Talana ste

  • Bound By Mafia Blood   Chapter 121 - The Mask Of The Devil

    The iron door groaned shut behind Massimo as he descended into the dungeon beneath the Sanchiano estate. The air was wet with mildew and old blood, torchlight flickering off the stone walls like ghost-fire. In the last cell on the left sat Drake de Marco.His face was still marred from the Berlin fire, skin stitched, eye half-blind, a permanent sneer carved across his ruined mouth. But his eyes… they still glinted with the same venom.Talana stood in front of the cell, her arms folded, eyes sharp. “Any final truths you want to gift us before your empire is reduced to a headline?” she asked.De Marco laughed, the sound ragged. “You still think this is about empires. You think Donatello built this from ambition?”“Enlighten me.”He leaned forward, shackles clinking. “He was chosen. Sanctified. He didn’t build it. He inherited it. Just like you.”Talana didn’t flinch. “The only thing I’ve inherited is a war and I’m ending it.”Massimo’s gaze never left De Marco. “He dies after Donatello.

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