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One Step Ahead of Death
Last Updated:
2025-03-18 00:33:41
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Queen of Hell. The Mafia Boss’s Wife Magic in Disneyland
After enjoying his wife's body, Alejandro felt renewed. The bloodshed and settling of scores had been left behind in Italy, in Ramiro’s hands.In the United States, Alejandro Moretti was just a man in love and a caring, understanding father.The men from the Wolves’ squad, who were guarding Isabela and the children, gave them enough space so Alejandro could enjoy a normal life as a husband and father.Alejandro’s bodyguards also kept their distance without losing sight of their boss and his family.The entire perimeter was carefully watched by those two human towers.The snipers, part of the Moretti family’s security team, dressed casually, blending in as innocent tourists, while beneath their loose shirts, they carried their legally registered weapons.— "The boss looks really happy," noted Leandro, the 7'2" tall bodyguard.— "With his wife, he always looks happy," Stwardo added. "That’s why there’s a high pri
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The next day, the Moretti family's itinerary was packed with activities at the park and a romantic night for Alejandro and his wife.The family atmosphere was wrapped in a meticulously organized security ring.Moretti’s wolves and bodyguards maintained constant surveillance, along with other men hired to monitor all possible points of danger.That detail was overlooked by those who intended to ambush and assassinate Moretti.The hunt for Alejandro Moretti was underway amid the innocent tourists at the park.The bustle of Disneyland continued as if a man’s fate was not about to be decided in the crowd.Lights shone in every location with their harmless, childlike glow. Costumed characters handed out smiles, and tourists wandered without suspecting that, among them, a group of assassins was weaving a deadly ambush.In a less crowded corner of the park, the hitman who had been tailing Moretti was following his bos
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The sound of sirens grew louder, a mix of metallic wails and hurried voices.A crowd of onlookers formed a circle around Alejandro, but everything seemed blurry.The red and blue lights flashed over the faces of the curious, over Isabela’s tears, over the small hands of their children trying to hold onto their father.— "Dad, please wake up!" — Mateo sobbed, shaking Alejandro’s arm desperately.Meanwhile, Lucía clung to Alejandro’s leg, crying:— "Daddy, don’t die!"Alejandro’s body trembled slightly, his skin growing paler with each passing second.The air burned as it entered his lungs, each breath becoming harder. He felt the sticky warmth of his own blood soaking his shirt, clinging to his skin like a second layer.Isabela kept pressing the wound with the white scarf that had adorned her waist, her dress—once pastel pink—now stained red.— "Hold on, my love, the ambulance is here. Hold on…
Last Updated : 2025-03-19Queen of Hell. The Mafia Boss’s Wife Between Life and Death
The waiting room clock read three in the morning. The hospital remained silent.A silence broken only by the murmurs of nurses and doctors passing through the halls in a calm hurry.Isabela clutched the fabric of her dress, still stained with her husband's blood. Her hands gripped the skirt as if holding onto it could keep her sanity intact.The nerves and desperation of not knowing anything made her legs tremble. The feeling of nausea never fully left her stomach, and her mind was fixated on only one thing: Alejandro surviving the surgery.The doors of the operating room burst open, and the medical team emerged, looking exhausted.The lead surgeon, a man with graying hair and a stern gaze, approached Isabela with the expression of someone who had been battling death for hours.—Mrs. Moretti…—Yes. —Isabela responded, anguish evident on her face. Inwardly, she begged to hear good news from the surgeon’s lips.
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Isabela never left Alejandro's side; she had made the hospital her second home. The doctors suggested she go home to rest and return later, but she refused.She didn't want to go back to her children without an answer. A web of uncertainty surrounded Alejandro—no one could assure her whether her husband would survive or not.She camped out in the waiting room, had paid for a hospital room to rest for a few hours, to shower, and then return to camp out again, waiting for news about her husband's health.The Greeks, along with Ramiro, took turns keeping watch. They were fully aware of the presence of dangerous enemies.Though they never spoke of it in front of Isabela.But as the hours passed, the hospital was no longer a safe place for Alejandro—or for Isabela.Alejandro Moretti's enemies moved in the shadows, infiltrating the hospital corridors, slithering like snakes, disguising their intentions with friendly smiles an
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Isabela missed her children terribly; the thought of their sad little faces broke her heart.And even though Alejandro hadn't been injured by one of his enemies, it didn’t ease her sorrow. Because many loitered outside the hospital, waiting for a chance to finish off the wounded lion.— If they think I’ll let them… they’re fucking with me, those bastards. — Isabela thought as she headed to the room where her husband was.The air in the intensive care unit was dense and cold, filled with the rhythmic sound of the heart monitors and the faint hum of the ventilators.Isabela walked to the room where Alejandro lay motionless, his body connected to a multitude of tubes and machines keeping him alive.Seeing him like this, something inside her broke.Alejandro Moretti was the man she loved, the father of her children, the king of an empire he hadn’t chosen but had sustained with cunning, blood, and loyalty.The impos
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The night was a velvet curtain speckled with stars, but inside Moretti Hospital, everything looked increasingly pale. His fight for survival was becoming a difficult road to walk.Outside the hospital, the air was thick with danger. Isabela knew it, and she wasn’t going to stand idly by, waiting for the enemy’s attack.The doctors had told her that her husband was fighting fiercely to survive, although, so far, the prognosis suggested that everything was against him.Ramiro never left Alejandro’s side. He was his guardian, and when he had to be with Isabela, Miguel took his place. Alejandro would never be alone for a single moment.Those had been Isabela’s orders.— I want you to keep a close eye on the doctor who just walked in. — Ramiro instructed before being relieved by Miguel.Miguel nodded.The surgeon looked tense, which was unusual. The doctor seemed to be hiding
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The night was at its darkest when Isabela walked with firm steps down the hospital corridor. It was 3 a.m.Her slender silhouette, wrapped in a blue coat, cast a long shadow under the hallway lights.Outside, the city slept, unaware of the silent war underway. But in Isabela’s world, peace was a luxury no one could afford.Ramiro was waiting at the end of the corridor, his phone in hand, his expression serious and calculating.— Barragán is down. — He handed her the phone with a paused video. — Stefano did it in style.Isabela took the device and pressed play.The shaky footage showed Vicente "El Filo" Barragán tied to a chair in a dark basement. In front of him, a man wearing a black mask held a gun aimed at his head.— You need to see his execution, Isabela. — Stefano’s voice spoke from off-camera.— The man who swore eternal loyalty to him was the first to sell him
Last Updated : 2025-03-24
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The echo of the door clicking shut still vibrated against the walls of Salvi’s office when he suddenly stood up.The chair screeched violently as it was shoved back, hitting the wall behind him.For a few seconds, only the sound of his rage-filled breathing filled the room.His chest rose and fell as if he had just run a marathon.He looked at the envelope. He didn’t touch it.The photo of Grazia—his daughter—was still there, pinned like a dagger.Her childlike face, so much like his own, so pure, so unaware of the hell closing in around her.Then he shifted his gaze to the corner of the desk, where a photo of Cassandra, his legal wife, sat.She smiled in a garden full of lavender, holding onto his arm as if they were truly happy.— “Goddamn it!” — Salvi growled, and with a sweeping motion, cleared the surface of the desk, sending papers, pens, and his coffee mug crashing to the floor.The rage devo
Queen of Hell. The Mafia Boss’s Wife The Ace Up the Sleeve
Outside, the light rain veiled the rooftops with an almost invisible curtain.Inside, in the basement of an old building that served as the operations center for the “Wolves” unit, a man watched three screens at once.He had a shaved head, steel-colored eyes, and a scar across his chin — a reminder of the unofficial wars he had fought.His name was Dante, one of the most loyal soldiers to Isabela Moretti, and also the most dangerous. In another life, he had been part of a tactical intelligence unit, until the system betrayed him and he joined the “Wolves,” a unit trained by Isabela’s father.Once Andreas was murdered and Isabela asked Alejandro to hide them in Italy, Dante swore loyalty — first to Isabela and then to Alejandro Moretti.Since then, he rented out his talents to the highest bidder. But with the Morettis, he didn’t charge. He only owed favors.Isabela had asked him to trac
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Moretti Mansion — 10:45 p.m.The sound of the engines fading away left an echo that refused to die. The flashing lights of the police vehicles still danced in the reflection of the windows, like a reminder of the unreal.A dense, suffocating stillness filled the entire house.Isabela slowly descended the marble staircase. The heel of her sandals echoed hollowly, funereally. She stopped on the last step, her gaze lost in the now-closed gate. The air seemed to weigh tons.—They took him... —she whispered, more to herself than to the servants and guards who pretended not to breathe behind the columns.She let the glass in her hand fall. There was no shatter. The crystal rolled and clinked softly, as if it too knew better than to break the silence.Then, the unthinkable happened.A dry, savage roar burst from her chest. She ripped off her silk coat and threw it to the ground. She stormed into the house as if h
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The city trembled under the constant rain, as if trying to wash away its own conscience. But for Vittorio Salvi, the water cleansed nothing. Each drop was a reminder of his failure, of the impunity that rose with the face of a king and the perfume of a queen.Salvi’s office, usually a mess of papers and spilled coffee, had been transformed into a kind of war room. On the corkboard, photos pinned with red tacks drew lines toward names, locations, front businesses, legal aliases and street nicknames.Alejandro Moretti was at the center, of course, but the real challenge was the figure holding everything from the shadows: Isabela Moretti. But she was clean and untouchable.Salvi didn’t say it to anyone, but he had begun to fear her more than Alejandro himself.— That damn woman has steel teeth and lava in her veins instead of blood. Alejandro’s luckier than he thinks to have her as a wife…— I’d like to think my wife woul
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The rain fell without strength, but with persistence, as if the sky refused to let the day dawn in peace.In an old shed on the outskirts of the city, hidden under a false name and documents bought with the urgency of fear, Ramiro tried to sleep with a pistol under his pillow and his conscience devouring his soul.He had done the unthinkable.He had talked.He had signed papers, handed over documents.He had sold out Alejandro Moretti.His former boss.The man to whom he had sworn loyalty.Now, he hoped the law would protect him from what was coming next.But the law didn’t know the whole picture.Alejandro Moretti wasn’t alone.A soft knock on the door made him sit up abruptly.Three knocks. Then silence.—“Who is it?” he shouted, his voice rough.—“It’s me, brother.” The voice on the other side of the door was warm. Familiar.Ramiro breathed out, approached the door w
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Isabela’s kisses had calmed, for a moment, the whirlwind of thoughts assaulting his soul.Alejandro had always prided himself on staying one step ahead of his enemies, but he had never imagined the enemy would be living under his own roof.That he had unknowingly opened the doors of his home—and his heart—to him.Alejandro valued Ramiro. He considered him his greatest ally, a friend.— This damn business destroys loyalties and affections — he murmured to himself.Looking at Isabela sleeping beside him, Alejandro felt a hollow in his stomach.The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon seeping through the linen curtains.Isabela slept deeply, wrapped in white sheets, her serene expression contrasting with the storm Alejandro carried inside.He had loved her body with desperation, like someone clinging to a last breath before drowning.But neither her skin, nor he
Queen of Hell. The Mafia Boss’s Wife Shadows in Suit and Tie
Villa Moretti woke up under an overcast sky. The sea, which usually roared with poetic strength, seemed unusually silent that morning. As if it too sensed that something ominous was coming.Alejandro had been awake since before dawn. He hadn’t slept well since Salvi’s name reappeared on his radar.He checked every message, every email, every file, as if he could catch a ghost before it slipped through his walls.Sitting in front of the large window in his study, his eyes were fixed on the fog over the cliff. In his lap, the Protocollo Nero dossier lay open.A map of connections, allies, enemies, possible traitors, and dormant accounts in tax havens. Each page, a piece of his empire. Each red mark, a target.—Did you get any sleep? —asked Isabela, walking in with a silk coat and her hair still damp.Alejandro closed the dossier and slid it back into the safe.—Sleep is for those without enemies at cour
Queen of Hell. The Mafia Boss’s Wife Legally Mortal
The Moretti villa in Costa Esmeralda looked like something out of a painting. The sea crashed elegantly against the cliffs, bougainvillea hung from the balconies, and the Italian sun bathed the stone façade as if blessing every inch of the property.But Alejandro didn’t trust perfect places. Nor did he trust weeks that were too quiet. His instinct told him he couldn’t rely on the apparent calm. An enemy could appear from anywhere.Since his return to Italy, he had followed the protocol: reappear as a businessman, cleanse his image in society through charity events, discreet visits to his lawyers, and zero contact with the past.A resurrected ghost in Italian suits and diplomatic manners.And yet, something felt… off. Something in the air unsettled him, as if the wind was warning of a storm, even though the sun reigned high in the sky.—"What’s worrying you, Alejandro?"—Isabela asked, approaching him as he stood on the
Queen of Hell. The Mafia Boss’s Wife The Return of the King
The journey back to Italy was as pleasant as it was safe.On a private jet, Alejandro and his family returned without setbacks, leaving behind Greece and a person they had grown to appreciate very much.Miguel.He had decided to stay in Greece with his woman, who was expecting his child.At first, Alejandro didn’t like the idea. Miguel had served him since he was very young, loyally by his side for years.But convinced by Isabela, Alejandro let Miguel go so he could marry Katherine, his former nurse, and start his family in Greece.Miguel would not serve Nikos; his loyalty was only to Alejandro.Melina, at her son Nikos’s request, got him a job at the Italian embassy. Miguel was now an honorable citizen with no criminal past.Grateful to Melina, Isabela left a friend behind—free from the hell she herself wished to escape.While Alejandro and his family arrived at their mansion in Cos
