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เธซเธ™เน‰เธฒเธซเธฅเธฑเธ / Mafia / Mafia's Nemesis / Chapter 33 : ๐•ญ๐–†๐–‡๐–ž๐–˜๐–Ž๐–™๐–™๐–Ž๐–“๐–Œ ๐–•๐–†๐–ž๐–˜ ๐–œ๐–Š๐–‘๐–‘

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Chapter 33 : ๐•ญ๐–†๐–‡๐–ž๐–˜๐–Ž๐–™๐–™๐–Ž๐–“๐–Œ ๐–•๐–†๐–ž๐–˜ ๐–œ๐–Š๐–‘๐–‘

เธœเธนเน‰เน€เธ‚เธตเธขเธ™: Unwavering Pen
last update เธ›เธฃเธฑเธšเธ›เธฃเธธเธ‡เธฅเนˆเธฒเธชเธธเธ”: 2025-07-19 19:31:08

๐•ธ๐–†๐–‹๐–Ž๐–†'๐–˜ ๐•น๐–Š๐–’๐–Š๐–˜๐–Ž๐–˜

Breannaโ€™s fingers stop mid-stir, the spoon clinking once against the mug.

She didn't jump in to force the full story out, instead she had her back to them, but her ears were sharper now.

โ€œNo way. Grinch Hernรกndez ? Mr Huntโ€™s right hand man?โ€ The second staff cut in. Disbelief.

โ€œSwear on my badgeโ€”my cousinโ€™s a medic at Edenโ€”he said Mr Hunt wheeled him in, like a gutted deer, bleeding out all over those white tiles and barely breathing.โ€ The first man snarled, buttressing his claim.

The second agent gives a low whistle

โ€œShit... If Grinch is bleeding out in a backroom, what does that say about Huntโ€™s inner circleโ€”that guy is the core of their strength?โ€

โ€œExactly. Itโ€™s weird, though. No copsโ€”or official complaint of hit, no ambulance nor press. Just Antonioโ€™s private suits, with silencers tucked under their coats.โ€ The first man expressed his point.

โ€œGrinchโ€™s too protected for this to be street-levelโ€ The second agent shook his head. He leaned in and pulled his colleague closer.

โ€œRoman!โ€ He called in a raspy manner.

โ€œThis is definitely not a hit. It's a cullingโ€”either he stepped on the wrong toes, or someone finally got tired of cleaning his mess.....Like someone inside sayingโ€” enough.โ€

Breanna closes the coffee tin. Quietly. The air has shifted nowโ€”thicker, she couldn't hear their whispers.

The first man let out a chuckle and pulled away.

โ€œMan you're overthinking itโ€”It could be a rival fight. The Hunts are getting attacked these days.....months ago was their Casinoโ€.

โ€œArgh!โ€”why are you so dumb.โ€ The second growled, yanking his cards onto the table.

โ€œGrinch is Antonio Huntโ€™s right-hand man, meaning he's heavily protected after Antonio. You think that level of blood gets spilled in a random rivalry fightโ€”without a counter bloodbath from the Hunt Corporations?โ€

Roman's thoughts immediately wandered off. โ€œYou got a hell of point thereโ€”โ€

Breanna slowly emerges from the other side of the partition, and the room goes still.

With mug in hand, her gaze pinned them both, like knives through silk.

โ€œIs your source legitimate?โ€

โ€œApologies, maโ€™am. Uhโ€”we were justโ€”โ€

โ€œI asked you a questionโ€. Her voice dropped eerily. โ€œWhere did you hear thatโ€”about Grinch?โ€

โ€œUmm...my cousin, maโ€™am.โ€ The first man stuttered.

โ€œHow sure are you that the information is true?โ€ she snarled, taking a sip of coffee.

โ€œActually heโ€™s a nurse. He recognized Grinch, due to he's an influential figure. Said he was wheeled into Eden this morning, by Mr Hunt and their private security wingโ€.

Breanna walks over, preciseโ€”like a menacing predator.

โ€œDid you report this up the chainโ€”your superior?โ€

The two men froze, unsure of what to reply.

Agitated Breanna tosses the rest of her coffee into the sink with a harsh splash and glared dangerously at them.

โ€œNo, maโ€™amโ€”we didnโ€™tโ€ They shrink back a little. โ€œWe figured it wasโ€”โ€

โ€œYou didnโ€™tโ€ she interjected sharply, and paused with a smug grin.

โ€œSuch an insulated figure is bleeding out in our city's elite hospital, and you figured it to be a casual talk?โ€

โ€œSorry Ma'amโ€ the two chorused with a bow.

โ€œNonsenseโ€ Breanna scoffs, grazing over them with detest.

โ€œFunnyโ€”how long I've worked with this wing, yet you don't realize just how much I hate unsanctioned intakes. No repetition.โ€

โ€œYes Ma'amโ€”apologiesโ€. The men immediately splinter into different directions.

Breanna's eyes already on her watchโ€”burned with a look her person can't define. โ€œF*ckโ€”It's only two hours to the STINGโ€.

She dashed her eyes back at the doorway, eyes scanning. Jaw tenseโ€”mind contemplating.

This wasnโ€™t just an attack. It was a messageโ€”someone opened the cage from the inside, and it's her only opportunity to manipulate the weak line.

The world outside is a stretch of storm-soaked glass, hinting that night was about to fall.

Patting her pocket was all it took for her to head toward the elevatorโ€”her phone was safe in her pocket.

The only weapon which she could use to control her force.

โ˜†โ˜† ๐•ท๐–† ๐•พ๐–Ž๐–—๐–Š๐–“๐–† ๐•ณ๐–”๐–™๐–Š๐–‘

๐•ป๐–—๐–Ž๐–›๐–†๐–™๐–Š ๐•ท๐–”๐–š๐–“๐–Œ๐–Š โ€” ๐•ฐ๐–›๐–Š๐–“๐–Ž๐–“๐–Œโ˜†โ˜†

6:00 PM

The velvet curtains shimmered under the golden chandeliers, casting soft pools of light across the obsidian floors.

Antonio lounged deep into the head seat of a high-backed armchair, legs crossed, a lowball glass of aged scotch in hand, untouched.

Flanked on both sides by arm dealersโ€” criminal brokers from Arab, with their Consiglieres.

The scent of expensive cologne mingled with cigar smoke and polished leather โ€” luxury cloaked in danger.

They two brokers argued over territory gains on the east docks.

Kiktorโ€”Victor Loa's Consigliere, skimmed through the shipment manifests on his tablet.

The ashtray in front of them overflowed with half-burnt Cubans.

This wasnโ€™t a meeting โ€” it was a council of chaos, wrapped in silk and steel.

Theyโ€™d flown in to wine and dine with the Medina family underboss. Deals were expectedโ€”just like they informed the Don.

Cesar Matรฉ cracked a joke that sent a ripple of laughter across the room from his territorial bloodline.

โ€œโ€”so the bastard made away with a duffel full of cash,โ€ chortled Cesar Matรฉ, his thick Arabic accent slicing through the air, โ€œbut instead of weapons, we gave him a box full of dildos. Custom-made. Real top shelf.โ€

โ€œGood riddanceโ€”that's what he deserves when he plays Craigslist,โ€ drawled Victor Loa, swirling bourbon in a thick crystal tumbler, rings clinking.

โ€œLast month, some idiot in Juรกrez thought a safety latch was optional when he pulled a fast one. Blew his trigger finger clean off.โ€ He mimicked the boom with a pop of his lips.

โ€œCan't even hold a toothbrush nowโ€”did you spare your own bastard just like that?โ€

There was a swift round of wheezing cackle from Cesar Matรฉ, that nearly spilled his martini.

โ€œThat's the best partโ€ he chimed in, gulping his drink.

โ€œSwear to God, I still got a piece of that rookieโ€™s femur in my jeepโ€™s floorboard!โ€

Roars exploded from the two men. The laughter was loud, the whiskey rough, and the jokes even brutal.

Antonio forced a chuckleโ€”fingers drumming the rim of his glass. He hadnโ€™t taken a sip.

He looked like he belonged. Dark tailored suit, gold watch glinting, his tie loosened just enough to blend in with the chaos. But his eyes were miles awayโ€”Grinch!

โ€œSo, Capo mio!โ€ Victor Loa called, turning to Antonio. "Any ideas?".

Antonio smiled and just nodded like a man listening to ghosts.

โ€œYou alright, Bruno{Gangster tough guy}?โ€ Cesar Matรฉ drawled, flicking ash into a gold-plated tray. โ€œYou look like a priest in a strip club.โ€

Antonio blinked away the haze, realizing he hadn't responded to the last thing said. He straightened slightly, throwing them a practiced grin.

โ€œJust thinking. Nothing to lose sleep over.โ€

Cesar and Victor exchange a wild grin because Antonio was only keeping the illusion alive. But inside, he wasn't here.

โ€œYou always this stiffโ€”wonder how you made it to Lucas' Underboss?โ€ Victor teased, eyes sharp despite the casual slouch.

Antonio shifted in his seat, resting his elbow on the leather armrest, setting his untouched glass aside.

โ€œBusiness and bleeding heartโ€ Antonio corrected threateninglyโ€”nonchalant. Kiktor flashed him a stiff smirk and continued what he was doing.

โ€œOh right,โ€

The two men nodded, momentarily sobered by his tone.

โ€œSo where are we?โ€ He asked, rubbing his neck.

โ€œword is your Don's cooking something big โ€” maybe cartel-cleansing big. You in, or are you still babysitting hotels and casinos?โ€

Antonio smirked. โ€œBabysitting pays well, and that's the only reason I didnโ€™t poison your martini.โ€

Victor tried to fire back, but Antonio's crooked smile made his resolve falterโ€”he just lowered his glass.

With no further objection, Antonio exhaled, slowly pushing to his feet. His chair scraped back with a long screech.

โ€œListen,โ€ he barked in a single order, fixing his coat with a precise tug.

โ€œYou all enjoy the rest of the evening without meโ€”the drinks are on the Don.โ€ His gaze scanned them, but no one dared to question him.

โ€œIf you would excuse me, Iโ€™ve got somewhere else I need to be.โ€ He muttered, already turning.

โ€œYou bouncing already?โ€ Cardozaโ€”Cesar Matรฉ Consigliere spoke his first word, since they got hosted in the room.

Antonio paused, then nodded once. Cardoza was one tough, invincible shield in Cesar Matรฉ territory.

โ€œBruno{Gangster tough guy} we just lit the fuseโ€”the room ainโ€™t gonna be the same without you, moreover your Don said you gonna handle this deal yourself. Did the plan change?โ€

He stood abruptly and approached Antonio. "Or, you gotta go tuck someone in?"

โ€œCardoza!My boys will handle everything.โ€ Antonio cut across the Consigliere's low murmur. โ€œI'm a busy manโ€.

โ€œYeahโ€”I almost forgot" Cardoza gave a stiff smirk, staring squarely at Antonio.

โ€œBut Don gave his word on this deal, and that's all that mattersโ€”El Juramento del Don {Don's Oath}.โ€

Antonio took a deep breath and nodded. โ€œI will finish my work and get back to sign the dealโ€

In their world, whenever the Don promised, it was gospelโ€”diplomacy.

Cardoza nodded in satisfaction. He however raised a brow, narrowing slits at Antonio's untouched drink.

Antonio offered a lopsided smile. โ€œAw, cโ€™mon, we were just making jokesโ€”I'd never think of that.โ€

โ€œYour heart or brain, you mean,โ€ Cardoza teased, lifting the glass. โ€œLast time I checkedโ€”the heart of a gangster is a weave of sins, I won't be surprised by the brainโ€

Without objection, Antonio grabbed the glass and gulped down its content at a go.

โ€œSatisfied?โ€ He scowled, tossing the glass behind him.

โ€œNot reallyโ€ Cardoza watched as the glass shattered on the floor tiles. โ€œTell Grinch I said โ€˜heal fastโ€™.โ€

Antonio gave him a suspicious look, but then walked out, the heavy doors to the lounge closing behind him with a soft but final thud.

Inside, the two dealers returned to their rumbling chatter.

Their voices clashed like brass knuckles, as they commended Cardoza for cajoling Antonio into drinking his Scotch.

Only once Antonio was inside his car, did he let his mask slip.

โ€œKeep an eye on themโ€ he instructed Reza, his substitute man.

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  • Mafia's Nemesis ย ย ย ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฉ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ 48: ๐‰๐š๐ข๐ฅ...

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    ๐Œ๐š๐Ÿ๐ข๐šโ€™๐ฌ ๐๐ž๐ฆ๐ž๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌยฐยฐยฐ โ€œWhy did you lock us out when we came to see you?โ€โ€œUmโ€”Iโ€”โ€โ€œI even took out time and brought a present!โ€ He cut him off smoothly. โ€œAll you did was just drive past us.โ€Antonio sank into a crouch until his eyes were level with Juniorโ€™s.โ€œSorryโ€”I was in a hurry that day.โ€โ€œOh, really?โ€ Junior yawned dramatically, milking his advantage.โ€œBut sorry isnโ€™t going to make up for the wasted fare, nor the energy squandered walking up your hilly drivewayโ€”โ€โ€œIโ€™ll send a car next time you wish to visit,โ€ Antonio interjected.โ€œMr. Hunt, you donโ€™t have toโ€”โ€ Nevena started, but Antonio raised a hand.โ€œIโ€™ll handle it.โ€He folded his hand into his breast pocket, pulled out his wallet, and offered a few bills.โ€œFor the fare. And if you do well in the semesterโ€™s finalsโ€”weโ€™ll go shell hunting.โ€ Junior went utterance blank,looking at the money but not taking it.โ€œNo?โ€ Antonio tilted his head. โ€œIf you feel so uncomfortable about the money, how about ice cream, then?โ€ โ€œV

  • Mafia's Nemesis ย ย ย ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฉ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ 46: ๐Œ๐ซ ๐‡๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ?

    ๐Œ๐š๐Ÿ๐ข๐š'๐ฌ ๐๐ž๐ฆ๐ž๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌยฐยฐยฐโ€œI know,โ€ Breannaโ€™s eyes hardened. โ€œBut he likes to watch his work โ€ฆ let me give him a show.โ€Sophia hesitated then glanced at her. โ€œYou sure?โ€โ€œTell the team to take the school. Every hallway, every door, every face.โ€ Breanna snubbed. โ€œI will meet Principal Ortiz in the meantimeโ€Sophia watched her go. Without waiting She slotted the team everywhere. Radios whispered confirmation. Doors were checked and barricaded with practiced hands. Hallways that had been mere thoroughfares became choke points mapped by eyes and palms.โ˜†โ˜†๐ˆ๐ง๐ฌ๐ข๐๐ž ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐’๐ž๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐š๐ซ ๐‡๐š๐ฅ๐ฅโ˜†โ˜† โ€œPrincipal Ortiz?โ€ Breanna called, meeting him by the lectern. โ€œI'm Detective Stewartโ€ Orituzโ€™s face turned paper-white, >why is the police here? He however gave her a curt nod and excused himself from the podium. โ€œYes, Detective. To what do I owe this visit?โ€ he asked backstage. โ€œSorry for the uninvited intrusion though,โ€ she began, her tone soft so it would carry only

  • Mafia's Nemesis ย ย ย ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฉ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ 45: ๐Š๐ž๐ž๐ฉ ๐€๐ง ๐„๐ฒ๐ž ๐Ž๐ง ๐‡๐ข๐ฆ.

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  • Mafia's Nemesis ย ย ย ๐‚๐ก๐šp๐ญ๐ž๐ซ 44: ๐‚๐„๐Ž?

    ๐Œ๐š๐Ÿ๐ข๐š'๐ฌ ๐๐ž๐ฆ๐ž๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌยฐยฐยฐยฐ โ€œDid you perhaps check the Law Chamber and private security office?โ€ Breanna repeated. โ€œMaybe he is mocking you,โ€ Sophia murmurs, close enough that only Breanna could hear. โ€œAntonioโ€™s the kind of asshole who-โ€ โ€œIf he said thereโ€™s a hit, then thereโ€™s a hit.โ€ Breanna snapped. โ€œI know that Antonio is a bastard, but If he wanted to mock me, heโ€™d send flowers insteadโ€ Sophia leaned forward. Persistent. โ€œSnap off it Ma'am, he wants you to blow a fuseโ€ โ€œSophia Kendrickโ€ Breanna called, softer now, โ€œIt's 9:15 AM already and target's already en route to his slaughter table, we aren't up for any assumptionsโ€ Sophiaโ€™s shoulders slump for a millisecond, then she returns back to work โ€” combing firms, pinging sources. An officer staked to their table, holding his phone. โ€œMaโ€™am?โ€ He called , referring to Breanna. โ€œA concierge at a boutique hotel just attested that one Italianโ€”Lorenzo Creed checked in at Six forty-five. Said he was speaking at a semin

  • Mafia's Nemesis ย ย ย ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฉ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ 43: ๐ƒ๐ข๐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐œ๐ก๐ž๐œ๐ค ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐‹๐š๐ฐ ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฆ๐›๐ž๐ซ?

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