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Chapter 24
Last Updated:
2025-06-20 17:06:58
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Everyday For The Thief: A Chaotic and Poetic Mafia Romance About to be a long night
Claudine woke up, her stomach a gentle curve under the sheets, her mind a chaotic mix of relief and fear. The air around him was different, filled with the metallic scent of blood and smoke.The man she loved, the man she had been so desperate to see, was standing in the darkness. He was shaking. A barely perceptible tremor, but it was there, a testament to the raw, visceral terror and rage he had just endured. Her heart, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs, told her he was home.She scrambled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cool marble floor, a gasp of pure relief escaping her lips. Her mind was a chaotic mix of relief and fear. She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell his name so loud that the whole city could hear her. She wanted the whole world to know that her man was back. That he was home.“Hades!” she cried out, the name a raw, broken sound, a mix of love, relief, and sorrow. “Hadeson! You’re home! You’re here! Oh my goodness, you’re back!”She launched her wobbly self i
Everyday For The Thief: A Chaotic and Poetic Mafia Romance Returning to his Queen
The shattered window was a final, emphatic punctuation to the violent end of a legacy. Hades’s knuckles, white with the recent fury of his grip on Gregory’s throat, relaxed as he stared at the gaping hole in the wall. The fight was over, for now. Gregory was gone, a coward taking the first opportunity to run.Christian, his face a mask of cold, unyielding resolve, placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “He’s not worth it, Hades. Not like this. Let him think he’s won. Let him run. The hunt is the best part.”Hades shook his head, a single, silent tear sliding down his face. “I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to break him the way he broke me. The way he broke our father.”“And you will,” Christian said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “But not now. He has no army left. His men are either dead or running. The Kalashnikov dynasty is ours again. We have a family to rebuild, a kingdom to take back. And a debt to collect.” A quiet understanding passed between them. They were no longer two
Everyday For The Thief: A Chaotic and Poetic Mafia Romance 153
Three days passed. Three long, silent days filled with the suffocating tension of waiting. Hades spent his time in Mateo’s study, a room with walls of polished wooden furnitures and a single window overlooking a serene garden.While Charon and Christian were lodged in another wing of the estate.Hades studied the maps, the schematics, the financial spreadsheets, the faces of Gregory’s men. He didn’t sleep, didn’t eat much. He just sat, a statue of a man, his mind working with a cold, relentless precision. The only thing that gave him peace was the small, worn-out locket he kept in his pocket.He would run his thumb over it, feeling the smooth metal, a constant reminder of the woman waiting for him. Claudine. His Zaya. He thought of her face, the way her eyes would light up when she laughed.He remembered her scent, the way she felt in his arms. She was the one thing that kept the darkness at bay. The one thing that kept him from turning into the very monster he was hunting. He would
Everyday For The Thief: A Chaotic and Poetic Mafia Romance Chapter 152
9:45pm- Havana, Cuba. The streets were filled with the sound of shouting, of car alarms, of shattered glass. The city was a war zone. And in the middle of it all, Hades stood, a grim, unyielding figure in the eye of the storm.He and Christian were outside of Gregory’s fortress, a sprawling, dilapidated mansion that was now a scene of utter pandemonium. The lights were out, and the only light came from the fires burning in the distance.The sound of gunfire was constant, a rhythm that seemed to be coming from all directions. Gregory’s men were turning on each other, a brutal, bloody civil war playing out on his own doorstep.The loyalty he had bought with money was worthless in the face of chaos. The loyalty he had bought with power was useless in the face of his own incompetence.“He really is a fool,” Christian said, a cold, cunning smile on his face. “He is a coward. He is hiding inside, waiting for the storm to pass. He thinks his walls are high enough. He thinks his men are loya
Everyday For The Thief: A Chaotic and Poetic Mafia Romance Numbered days of his brother
Three days passed. Three long, silent days filled with the suffocating tension of waiting. Hades spent his time in Mateo’s study, a room with walls of polished wooden furnitures and a single window overlooking a serene garden.While Charon and Christian were lodged in another wing of the estate.Hades studied the maps, the schematics, the financial spreadsheets, the faces of Gregory’s men. He didn’t sleep, didn’t eat much. He just sat, a statue of a man, his mind working with a cold, relentless precision. The only thing that gave him peace was the small, worn-out locket he kept in his pocket.He would run his thumb over it, feeling the smooth metal, a constant reminder of the woman waiting for him. Claudine. His Zaya. He thought of her face, the way her eyes would light up when she laughed.He remembered her scent, the way she felt in his arms. She was the one thing that kept the darkness at bay. The one thing that kept him from turning into the very monster he was hunting. He would
Everyday For The Thief: A Chaotic and Poetic Mafia Romance Gregory in Cuba
•A DAY LATER•The atmosphere in Havana was thick and heavy, a humid blanket that clung to their skin and filled their lungs with the smell of salt and rum. The vintage Chevrolet moved like a shark in the crowded streets, its black, armored vehicle driving through the bright, chaotic stream of old cars and hurried pedestrians. Inside, the silence was a living, breathing thing. Hades wasn’t looking out the window; he was smelling the city. He was listening to its heartbeat. He had a premonition, a cold, hard knot of certainty in his gut. Gregory was here. He could feel him. It wasn’t about seeing, it was about sensing.“He’s here,” Hades finally said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that cut through the silence. He didn’t look at anyone, his eyes still fixed on the dashboard.“I can feel him. The city has gone quiet. The small-time crooks, the pickpockets, the little men who make a living on the streets… they’ve all disappeared. They’ve gone to ground. He’s purged them. He wants a cle
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