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Storms Between Bloodlines

Author: Nana A
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-05-24 17:24:19

By morning, the clouds over Tuscany had thickened—low and grey, the air tense with the promise of a storm.

Riccardo stood at the edge of the vineyard, surveying the terrain. Rows of grapevines stretched like ribs across the hillside. Beautiful, vulnerable. Too open for comfort.

Behind him, Marco approached, his steps quiet.

“The security grid’s up,” Marco said. “Perimeter sensors, motion alarms, backup power supply hidden beneath the wine cellar.”

Riccardo didn’t look away. “Good.”

Marco hesitated. “You trust him?”

Vincent.

Riccardo’s expression was unreadable. “I trust Camilla.”

“Not the same thing.”

“No,” Riccardo admitted, “but it’s enough for now.”

Back at the farmhouse, Camilla was in the study with Vincent, going over the ledger they’d recovered from her father’s safe months ago—entries they thought they’d fully understood until now.

Vincent flipped through the pages, fingers pausing on coded names. “Here—‘Falconer.’ I’ve seen this alias before. It wasn’t Delgado’s. It belonged
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  • The Mafia Protocol   The Sovereign’s Shadow

    The morning after their return to Milan, Riccardo called a closed council meeting. Only the most trusted were summoned—Marco, Isadora, Luca, and Camilla. The war room was sealed tight, surveillance blocked, phones confiscated. Whatever was about to be said, Riccardo wanted no echoes. “We have a name,” Riccardo said, his voice calm but ice-edged. “The Sovereign.” Luca raised an eyebrow. “Codename?” Camilla nodded. “Yes. But it’s more than that. It’s a title—used in encrypted messages connected to Valerio and Crane. Every trace we’ve followed leads back to this name.” Marco leaned forward. “So who the hell is he?” Riccardo dropped a file onto the table. Inside: blurred photos, transaction records, and something that made Camilla’s stomach tighten—an image from an old Falcone gala. In the background stood a man in a tailored charcoal suit, his face half-obscured. Camilla pointed. “Who is that?” Riccardo’s voice dropped a register. “Matteo Falcone.” The room fell into stunned sile

  • The Mafia Protocol   The Devil’s Reflection

    The safehouse in Berlin was silent except for the soft hum of a decrypted server humming in the background. Camilla stood beside Marco and watched as lines of code scrolled across the screen, translating Crane’s backup drive into fragments of conversations, offshore account numbers, and—most notably—names. Her own included. “He was watching me,” Camilla muttered, her jaw clenched. “For months.” Marco tapped a few keys, isolating a surveillance log labeled: Subject: Camilla Knight-Falcone. Priority Level: Critical. “Crane wasn’t just selling information,” he said. “He was orchestrating leverage. Using you as bait.” “For what?” “To lure Riccardo out of his shell. Crane knew about the attempted coup against the Falcone family two years ago. Someone paid him to start pulling strings again. This wasn’t just about Lorenzo or the cartel—this was personal.” Riccardo entered the room, fresh from the rain, his coat damp and his eyes colder than steel. He scanned the screen, then Camilla.

  • The Mafia Protocol   Ghost Protocol

    The next morning brought more than silence. It brought a name. Marco stood in the doorway of Riccardo’s office, his expression unreadable but grim. Camilla was already seated at the table, sifting through the mountain of encrypted files Lorenzo had kept buried on a private drive they had recovered during the raid. The files had been handed over to Marco’s team for decryption—but something had come back sooner than expected. “Tell me you have a lead,” Riccardo said without looking up from the map sprawled across his desk. “I’ve got more than that,” Marco replied. “We cracked the code.” Camilla’s head snapped up. “Already?” Marco nodded. “It wasn’t just the manifest or internal ports. Lorenzo was receiving data dumps from someone inside the DEA.” The room went still. Riccardo looked up. “An inside agent?” “Former,” Marco clarified. “Name’s Elias Crane. Burned three years ago in an undercover op gone wrong. But instead of disappearing, he resurfaced in Europe… and has been quiet

  • The Mafia Protocol   The Fallout

    The morning after Mateo’s execution dawned quietly, as if the city itself was holding its breath. A thin veil of fog clung to the skyline, muffling sound and softening the harsh lines of steel and concrete. Inside Riccardo’s penthouse, the air was thick with something far more tangible than mist—relief, exhaustion, and the lingering weight of everything that had come before.Camilla stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her arms folded over her chest, watching the first rays of sunlight pierce through the haze. She hadn’t slept. Neither had Riccardo.Behind her, the bedroom was dim, the sheets untouched. Neither of them had made it that far.“I thought it would feel different,” she murmured, not turning around.Riccardo’s voice was low as he joined her at the window. “What did you expect?”“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Triumph? Peace?” She let out a breath. “Instead, it feels like… the beginning of something else.”Riccardo nodded. “Because it is.”She turned to look at him. His eye

  • The Mafia Protocol   The Final Gambit

    The moon hung low over the city, casting its cold light over the dark streets below. Inside the penthouse, the atmosphere was charged with an unspoken promise—tonight, everything would change.Camilla stood before the full-length mirror, the reflection of the woman she had become staring back at her. The silk dress clung to her body, accentuating the curves that had once felt foreign to her but now felt like a second skin. Her hair cascaded in waves around her shoulders, her makeup flawless, her eyes sharp with determination. She wasn’t the same girl who had been sold to Riccardo. She had grown, evolved, and tonight, she would prove it.Behind her, Riccardo watched silently, his presence a constant weight in the room. He had always been a figure of power—dark, dangerous, and untouchable. But tonight, he was more than that. He was her partner, her equal in this twisted dance they had been forced into. And together, they would deal the final blow.“You look perfect,” Riccardo said, his

  • The Mafia Protocol   Consequences

    The mansion had fallen silent. The only sound was the faint echo of Camilla’s breath as she stood at the edge of the room, her eyes locked on the scene unfolding before her. Riccardo towered over Lorenzo, the weight of the world in his eyes, his rage palpable. Lorenzo’s smugness had turned to a tense unease, but he still refused to beg, still refused to show weakness.Camilla watched him carefully, a chill running down her spine as she realized the full extent of the web that had been woven around them. Lorenzo had been a part of it all. He had played both sides. The betrayal ran deeper than just him. There were others—hidden hands working in the shadows, pulling strings that Riccardo had yet to uncover.“Tell me who else is involved, Lorenzo,” Riccardo’s voice was low, cutting through the air like a blade. “Now.”Lorenzo’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “You’re too late. I told you, everything’s in motion. There’s no stopping it now.”Camilla felt a surge of frustration, but also

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