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CHAPTER 47 -The Calm Before the Gunfire
Last Updated:
2025-12-15 09:02:01
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Mafia's Heir CHAPTER 47 -The Calm Before the Gunfire
The city did not sleep — it only pretended to.From the balcony of the D’Angelo estate, Elena could see the distant lights of Milan blinking like restless eyes, watching, waiting. The night air was cold against her bare arms, carrying the faint scent of rain and metal — a smell she had come to associate with danger.She wrapped Adrien’s jacket tighter around herself.The house behind her was too quiet.That was the thing about the D’Angelo world — silence was never peace. Silence meant something was moving.Behind her, the soft click of a door sounded. She didn’t turn immediately. She already knew who it was.“You shouldn’t be out here,” Adrien said.His voice was steady, but she could hear the tension beneath it — the kind that lived in his bones, never leaving, never loosening its grip.“I couldn’t breathe inside,” she replied softly. “Not tonight.”Adrien stepped closer, stopping beside her at the railing. He was dressed in black — always black — the faint outline of the bandage st
Mafia's Heir CHAPTER —46 When Blood Betrays
The moment Viktor’s hand dropped, the world exploded. Gunfire ripped through the warehouse, deafening and blinding. Sparks flew as bullets struck metal crates, the sharp clangs echoing like screams. Adrien moved instantly, dragging Elena down behind a thick steel pillar just as a spray of bullets tore through the space where they’d been standing. “Stay. Down.” His voice was calm. Too calm. Elena pressed her back against the cold metal, heart slamming violently against her ribs. She could hear him breathing — controlled, measured — even as chaos reigned around them. Adrien leaned out, fired twice. Two bodies fell. Viktor’s laughter echoed through the warehouse, distorted by the gunfire. “Still sharp, D’Angelo! Even wounded!” Adrien didn’t respond. He didn’t waste words when blood was being spilled. He fired again, moving with lethal precision despite the pain tearing through his side. Every step pulled at his stitches, warm blood soaking further into his bandage — but he igno
Mafia's Heir CHAPTER 45—The Mafia Heir’s Reluctant Bride
The storm didn’t stop.It hammered the D’Angelo estate like the sky itself wanted to warn them. Every flash of lightning turned the world outside white, then black again. Elena stood by the balcony doors, watching the rain streak down the glass like tears the sky couldn’t hold back.Behind her, she could feel him before he even touched her.Adrien D’Angelo didn’t walk; he arrived — heavy presence, cold power, heat beneath it all. She heard the faint strain of his bandage when he moved, but he didn’t make a sound. He never made a sound unless he wanted to.“You should be in bed,” Elena said softly, not turning around.“And you should be asleep,” he replied.She finally glanced at him. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled, the collar open just enough to reveal the bruising on his chest. Even injured, he looked like someone carved war into human form.“Your doctor said you need rest,” she reminded him.“My enemies didn’t sign that prescription.”Elena closed her eyes for a moment. “Adri
Mafia's Heir CHAPTER 44 — The Devil Returns
The estate was no longer a home.It was a battlefield.Gunfire cracked through the hallways like thunder, echoing off marble and steel. Smoke seeped through the air vents, mixing with the scent of blood and sweat. The D’Angelo crest — once polished and proud — was splattered with streaks of red.Marco moved fast, dragging Elena behind him as bullets tore into the walls. “Stay down!” he yelled, shoving her behind a fallen pillar just as another barrage rained from the eastern corridor.But Elena barely heard him.Her heart was pounding with one name.Adrien.He was out there somewhere. In this storm. In this hell.---Adrien arrived like a shadow risen from the grave.The gates were still under fire when his car screeched to a stop. He stepped out before the wheels even stilled, black coat whipping behind him, gun already loaded.The guards froze at the sight of him.His expression was empty.Not angry.Not panicked.Just… cold.Cold enough to kill God himself.A wounded guard staggere
Mafia's Heir Chapter 43 – The Storm Before the Fire
The storm outside hadn’t stopped.Thunder rolled like gunfire across the night sky, echoing through the marble halls of the D’Angelo estate. The rain came harder, washing the city clean of its sins — or maybe just hiding new ones beneath the surface.Adrien stood by the window, a cigarette burning low between his fingers. The ember glowed briefly, a cruel imitation of the fire raging in his chest. He had spent the last twelve hours dissecting every file, every call, every face that might have betrayed him. Still, the pieces refused to fit together.Someone inside his world had sold him out — and whoever it was, they’d aimed for his heart.A faint knock came from behind him.“Enter,” he said, voice low.Marco stepped in, soaked from the rain. His usual calm expression was tight, the tension written across his shoulders. “We’ve traced the Vasiliev connection further,” he said, setting a folder on the table. “The Russians are moving through Naples. They’re not hiding anymore.”Adrien tur
Mafia's Heir Chapter 42 – Fire Beneath the Skin
The sound of the rain had become familiar — too familiar. It drummed against the tall windows of the D’Angelo estate, steady and cold, like the pulse of the city that never stopped bleeding.Adrien sat upright in his bed, the sheets pulled halfway around his waist, a thick bandage wrapping his torso. Every breath still burned, but he had already learned to mask the pain. Weakness was something he could never afford — not in front of his men, not in front of her.The doctor’s words still echoed in his head.“Another inch and you’d be dead.”Adrien had simply smirked. “Then I guess death missed its chance.”Now, as dawn spilled gray light through the curtains, he stared at the documents laid out on the side table — photographs, reports, and one sealed envelope Marco had placed there before leaving the room.He hadn’t opened it yet. He didn’t need to. He already knew what was inside — proof of betrayal.The house was quieter than usual. His men moved like ghosts through the hallways, afr
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