One Hundred Six

The Silver Thorn Headquarters –

The Underworld Trembles In the main meeting room of Antonio’s mansion, the atmosphere was tense. Marcus and a few of his most trusted men sat with serious expressions, while Antonio stood before them with a cold demeanor, contemplating the next move after their humiliating defeat at the South Docks. On the table, underground crime newspapers were scattered, each one displaying the same headline:

“The Silver Thorn Falls? Antonio’s Defeat Reshapes New York’s Mafia Landscape!”

Marcus clenched his fists, his eyes locked onto one of the headlines.

“Fuck… Now they all think we’re weak.”

Ben, one of Antonio’s senior advisors, lit his cigarette and smirked cynically.

“That’s what happens when you lose in this world. Everyone starts looking for a new leader.”

Antonio remained silent, his eyes fixed on the territorial map hanging on the wall. Marcus spoke again, his voice heavy.

“We lost more than half of our men. Lorenzo’s dead, our armory at the South Docks is gone, and now… the smaller mafias that used to be loyal to us are reconsidering their allegiance.”

Antonio finally spoke, his voice low but firm.

“Who’s switching sides?”

Ben grabbed a list from the table and skimmed through it.

“The Brooklyn gang is already showing signs of working with Nuovo Ordine. The Black Crows are negotiating with them too. And worse… some businesses that used to be under our protection are now seeking Leonardo’s help.”

Marcus slammed the table hard.

“Fucking cowards! One defeat, and they all turn their backs on us!”

Antonio remained calm.

“Don’t let your emotions control the situation, Marcus.”

Marcus took a deep breath, but it was clear he was still suppressing his rage.

“So what’s the plan, Boss? We can’t just sit here and watch everything crumble.”

One of Antonio’s men, a lean guy with sharp eyes named Reggie, walked into the room carrying a laptop.

“Boss, you need to see this.”

He placed the laptop on the table and pulled up a video from an underground crime news channel run by a paid informant. On the screen, a female news anchor spoke in a serious tone.

“After years of being the dominant force in New York’s underworld, The Silver Thorn suffered a massive blow at the South Docks. This is the biggest hit Antonio Franches has ever taken. Now the question arises—has Antonio’s era ended? Is Leonardo Franches the new leader who will take over?”

The screen showed several interviews with minor mafias who once operated under The Silver Thorn’s protection.

“I used to think no one could take Antonio down. But after seeing how easily Nuovo Ordine wiped them out? Maybe it’s time for a new leader.”

“Leonardo is more organized. He knows how to control this city. Antonio has been on top for too long without any real challenge.”

Marcus furiously shut the laptop, pushing it away.

“This is an insult!”

Ben shook his head.

“It’s reality.”

Antonio remained silent, but his gaze turned sharper. He knew that revenge alone wouldn’t be enough—he had to make sure everyone who doubted him would kneel before him once again. Antonio finally spoke,

“We need allies.”

Marcus looked at him skeptically.

“Allies? Who the hell can we still trust?”

Antonio picked up one of the gang lists and read it slowly.

“We still have The Crimson Fangs, the Texas gang we used to work with. We might be able to pull them back in. Besides that…”

He turned his gaze to Ben.

“What about The Yakuza in Little Tokyo?”

Ben shrugged.

“They’ve never really taken sides with anyone. But if we can offer them something better than Leonardo, they might be willing to negotiate. Especially since we’ve already taken down their rival.”

Marcus still looked doubtful.

“So we’re gonna ask for help? That’s not our style, Boss.”

Antonio stared at Marcus coldly.

“This isn’t about pride. It’s about survival. If we don’t secure our support before the next war, we’ll be wiped out for good.”

The room fell silent. Everyone knew Antonio was right. The police station was busier than usual that morning. Officers moved around with tense expressions, some speaking in serious tones on the phone, while the news screen in the corner of the room displayed reports of the massacre at the South Docks.

Cassandra sat at her desk, trying to read through the report she had just received. Her eyes scanned each word, her unease growing.

“...Dozens of bodies were found scattered around the South Docks, most of them fatally shot. The majority of the victims were members of The Silver Thorn crime organization...”

Cassandra bit her lip. The Silver Thorn?

Her grip on the paper tightened. This wasn’t just some small skirmish. This was a massacre. An officer approached her, carrying another stack of files.

“Cassandra, here’s additional information from the crime scene. It’s worse than we thought.”

Cassandra took the files and started reading. The more she read, the heavier the pit in her stomach grew. Alexander walked into the room with a serious expression, holding a cup of untouched coffee. He headed straight to Cassandra’s desk and sat across from her.

“You read the latest report?”

he asked without preamble. Cassandra nodded.

“Yeah… and I don’t get it.”

Alexander crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful.

“I feel like something’s off too. Look at this.”

He pulled out a photograph from the report and handed it to Cassandra. Cassandra studied the image. Several bodies of The Silver Thorn members lay sprawled on the ground, and in certain spots, there were clear signs of planned executions. She frowned.

“This doesn’t look like a regular battle. They weren’t killed in a firefight… this looks like an execution.”

Alexander nodded.

“That’s what I thought too. If you look at The Silver Thorn’s history, they’re not the type to go down like this.”

Cassandra met Alexander’s gaze.

“So you think there’s something bigger going on here?”

Alexander looked at her intently.

“I don’t just think, Cass. I know.”

Suddenly, the police station’s TV screen switched to breaking news. A female reporter spoke urgently.

“Just now, the NYPD uncovered further evidence regarding the bloodshed at the South Docks. It is suspected that this clash stemmed from internal disputes within The Silver Thorn, which has been involved in various illegal activities in the city. Some witnesses claim that this was the result of a power struggle within the organization...”

Cassandra listened, her jaw tightening.

“They’re blaming The Silver Thorn?”

she muttered. Alexander rubbed his temples, frustrated.

“They’re spinning the story that this was an internal war, even though there’s no solid evidence to back that up.”

Cassandra felt a sharp pang in her chest.

“Who controls this media?”

Alexander gave her a meaningful look.

“Someone who wants to make sure Nuovo Ordine stays in the shadows while Antonio gets turned into the scapegoat.”

Cassandra clenched her fist on the desk. If the media twisted this narrative, Antonio wouldn’t just lose his men—he’d lose the underworld’s trust too.

“He’s going to be backed into a corner,”

she murmured. Alexander nodded.

“Yeah. And if Antonio falls, that means Nuovo Ordine gains even more power.”

Cassandra took a deep breath. She had to find out what was happening with Antonio. She stood up, grabbing her coat and bag. Alexander frowned. “Where are you going?” Cassandra hesitated for a moment before replying, “Umm… I need to check my apartment. My online order should’ve arrived.” She lied smoothly. Alexander looked unconvinced.

“Oh, okay. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

Cassandra avoided his gaze.

“Okay. See you, Alex.”

Alexander fell silent, speaking to himself,

"Cass... it feels like you're hiding something from me."

The night grew late as Cassandra arrived at Antonio’s mansion, but the atmosphere was anything but usual. There were no guards standing tall at the gate, no usual commotion. Instead, the mansion felt eerily silent... but not the kind of silence that brought peace—this was the kind that sent chills down her spine. As soon as she stepped into the yard, the faint scent of blood lingered in the air. Cassandra quickened her pace, her heart starting to pound faster. What the hell happened here?

The moment she entered the mansion, a horrifying sight welcomed her. Cassandra stood in the long corridor that was usually pristine and grand. But now, the marble floors were stained with blood and scattered bandages. Along the walls, several of Antonio’s men were either sitting or lying on makeshift beds, their bodies covered in wounds, some still wearing blood-soaked clothes. Nurses moved around swiftly, cleaning wounds, wrapping bandages, injecting painkillers. Cassandra swallowed hard. She knew Antonio had lost the battle at the South Docks, but she hadn’t expected the aftermath to be this brutal. A man sitting in the corner, his arm bandaged, looked up weakly at Cassandra.

“Boss Antonio is still alive...”

he murmured, his voice hoarse. Cassandra frowned.

“Where is he?”

The man pointed toward the staircase leading to the upper floor.

“He’s in his room... but he doesn’t want to see anyone.”

As Cassandra walked toward the stairs, the sounds of groans and quiet whimpers echoed through the corridor. A man with a bruised and battered face gripped a nurse’s arm, his voice trembling.

“Did... did we really lose?”

The nurse tried to soothe him, but Cassandra could feel the fear hanging thick in the air. Antonio hadn’t just lost the battle. He had lost the trust of his men. Cassandra exhaled slowly. How could a man once seen as invincible fall this far?

She climbed the stairs, the uneasy feeling tightening around her chest. The moment she opened Antonio’s bedroom door, she saw him. Antonio lay on his bed, his body wrapped in bandages, his face slightly pale from blood loss. A private doctor was tending to his wounds, carefully changing the bandage wrapped around his injured shoulder. On the small table beside him, an untouched glass of bourbon sat next to a bottle of painkillers. Cassandra stood at the doorway, her gaze locked on the man she had always known as strong, dominant, and undefeated. But tonight, he looked more human than ever. Weak. Exhausted. Lying in his bed, struggling to endure the pain. The doctor tending to him glanced at Cassandra. “He needs rest, but you can talk to him for a bit if you want.”

Cassandra stood at Antonio’s bedroom door, unable to look away from the man she had always known as a powerful leader—arrogant, dominant, and untouchable. But tonight, everything was different. Antonio lay on his bed, his body covered in wounds and bandages, his face slightly pale from blood loss. His private doctor had just finished changing the bandages on his shoulder, wounded from a gunshot at the South Docks. Cassandra took a deep breath, her chest tightening at the sight of him in this state. She shouldn’t care. She should remember that Antonio was part of the mafia—the very man she had long suspected of being involved in her parents' deaths. But why did her heart ache seeing him like this? Antonio slowly opened his eyes, his sharp dark gaze now looking more exhausted, more human. He studied Cassandra standing near the door, then, in a hoarse yet firm voice, he said,

“Sorry for making you see your protector like this… dying.” Cassandra remained silent, his words piercing deeper than she had expected. Antonio smirked weakly before adding,

“But I promise… I’ll defeat him.”

Cassandra frowned, her heart growing restless. Defeat who?

“You still believe you can win this war?”

she asked softly, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. Antonio held her gaze for a long moment before replying,

“I have to.”

Cassandra swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving his face.

“Who? Who did all of this to you?”

Antonio exhaled deeply, glancing at the doctor still present in the room. With a single wave of his hand, the doctor understood and quickly left, closing the door behind him, leaving the two of them in tense silence. Once they were alone, Antonio stared into Cassandra’s eyes and spoke in a heavy voice,

“Leonardo Franches.”

The name echoed in Cassandra’s mind. Leonardo?

“He’s my brother. My half-brother. And he’s the one who killed my father.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened. Antonio’s brother? Antonio stared at the ceiling for a moment, as if reliving a dark past.

“He tried to seize power years ago. He killed our father, tried to take The Silver Thorn from me. But he failed… and disappeared.”

Cassandra clenched her fingers, her heartbeat quickening.

“And now he’s back… not just to kill me, but to destroy everything my father built.”

Cassandra swallowed, realizing the magnitude of the war unfolding before her. This wasn’t just a mafia feud. This was a battle of bloodlines. She bit her lip, feeling her chest tighten even more. She had sworn to find out who had murdered her parents. But now, instead of finding answers, she had stumbled upon a new truth—that the man leading the attack on The Silver Thorn wasn’t just Antonio’s enemy…

but his own brother. Then why did her heart feel even more torn? Why did she feel the urge to wipe the wounds off Antonio’s face? Why did she want to whisper words that could soothe him? A single tear slipped down Cassandra’s cheek before she even realized it. Am I… starting to fall for him? She quickly wiped it away before Antonio could notice, but she was too late. Antonio caught the flicker of emotion in her expression, and for the first time, his voice softened.

“Why are you crying?”

Cassandra shook her head quickly, turning away.

“I’m not crying.”

Antonio smirked slightly, though it was clear he was still in pain.

“You think I can’t see it?”

Cassandra bit her lip, unable to respond. Because in the end, her heart was already starting to waver. The atmosphere in Antonio’s bedroom remained tense. Cassandra sat beside the bed, still struggling with the chaos of her own emotions. In front of her, Antonio lay weak, but the fire in his eyes refused to die. Cassandra clenched her fingers tightly in her lap. Why can’t I stop thinking about this man? But before she could find an answer, the bedroom door suddenly swung open. Marcus entered with a tense expression, his steps hurried like a man bringing bad news.

“Boss… We’ve got a big problem,”

Marcus said gravely. Antonio opened his eyes. Though his body was still aching, he struggled to sit up. Cassandra instinctively reached out to steady him, but Antonio raised a hand, signaling her not to help.

“What now?”

Antonio’s voice was rough, laced with exhaustion but still brimming with dominance. Marcus looked at him with an unreadable expression before finally handing over a classified document.

“This came from someone inside the government. They’ve reported that the leader of The Silver Thorn is dead.”

Antonio narrowed his eyes, grabbing the document despite the pain causing his hand to tremble slightly. He flipped through the first page, reading quickly. His jaw tightened with every word he saw.

“And worse…” Marcus continued carefully,

“They’ve already announced a replacement mafia empire.”

Cassandra held her breath, watching Antonio’s expression begin to shift. Marcus lowered his voice.

“They’re calling it The New Silver Thorn… or more commonly known as Nuovo Ordine.”

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Cassandra watched as Antonio’s muscles tensed, his hands clenching the blanket tightly. Then, in a low, seething voice filled with raw fury, Antonio growled,

“Fuck… you bastard, Leonardo.”

Marcus swallowed hard at Antonio’s menacing rage. He had never seen his boss this furious before. Antonio gripped the papers so tightly they nearly tore apart. Cassandra unconsciously took a step back. His gaze was no longer just filled with anger—it carried an unbreakable resolve for the most brutal revenge.

“Leonardo wants to take everything from me?”

His voice was deep and ice-cold.

“Fine. I’ll show him I’m not dead yet.”

Cassandra stared at him, holding her breath. This was the first time she had seen Antonio with such raw, untamed fury. And strangely, beneath her fear…

She found herself wanting to see what would happen next.