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The Judas Inside
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2025-06-15 13:52:45
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The Mafia Protocol The Judas Inside
The silence in the war room was thunderous. Riccardo hadn’t revealed the name. Not yet. Not even to Camilla. He stood at the far end of the chamber, Milo Granger’s whispered betrayal still ringing in his ears. Every face around the table—people he’d killed for, bled beside, trusted—suddenly wore a new shade of suspicion. Camilla stepped in front of him, her voice calm but edged. “Riccardo. Tell me who it is.” His jaw flexed. His gaze didn’t leave the map spread across the table, where the red markings now felt like bloodstains. “I need to confirm it first,” he said quietly. “Why?” “Because if I say the name, and I’m wrong, we destroy an innocent. And if I’m right…” He turned to her. “Then I’m about to execute someone who’s broken bread in our home.” Camilla’s stomach churned. Not because she doubted Riccardo—but because she knew what he was feeling. The betrayal. The rage. The restraint. “We do it together,” she said. “Whoever it is, we face it as one.” The investigation w
The Mafia Protocol Lines In The Ashes
The Falcone estate became a command center overnight. Encrypted communications flickered across screens. Maps were rolled open and marked with red ink. Trusted lieutenants were recalled from safe houses. The walls themselves felt like they were listening—as if the estate knew a war was brewing just beyond the gates. Camilla stood at the center of it all, no longer the outsider sold into this world, but its storm-forged queen. Riccard sat beside her at the head of the table, his shoulder bandaged but his voice firm. “The ledger confirms Valentin Chernov is alive,” he said. “Which means this war runs deeper than Kirov or Lorenzo Vitali. This is about retribution. And legacy.” Marco leaned forward. “You think Chernov’s building his own syndicate?” “No,” Riccard replied. “He’s building something worse. He’s uniting the ghosts of every empire we’ve crushed. Ex-French operatives, South American cartels, even rogue elements from MI6. And he’s using our history—Camilla’s father’s ledger
The Mafia Protocol The Cost Of Silence
The Falcone estate was bathed in the dusky gold of early evening, but inside the walls of its fortified security and thickened silence, tension hung like a fog. Camilla stood in front of the towering marble fireplace in the war room, arms folded tightly, her jaw clenched. Maps were pinned to the walls, strings connecting regions and names, photographs strewn across the central table like the fragments of a puzzle that refused to form a complete picture. But it was the empty chair at the head of the table—Riccardo’s chair—that made everything feel more fragile than ever. “He’s been gone too long,” Marco said, striding into the room. His tone was clipped, his expression unreadable. “He should have checked in by now.” Camilla’s voice was low. “He won’t. Not until he has what he needs.” “And if he’s walking into a trap?” Marco stepped closer. “We both know this isn’t just about the Russians or Bruno anymore. Someone is pulling strings from deeper in the shadows.” Camilla looked over
The Mafia Protocol Fire Beneath The Throne
Camilla had always known that power came at a cost—but she hadn’t realized until now that keeping it was the true war. The early morning sun slanted through the penthouse windows, casting gold over the remnants of last night’s chaos. A shattered tumbler of bourbon still lay near the fireplace. Blood—Lorenzo’s—had dried on the soles of her boots. She hadn’t slept. Neither had Riccardo. He stood at the head of the war table, shirtless, the muscles in his back tense as he reviewed the photos Mateo had brought in. Satellite images, dock manifests, encrypted messages decoded only hours ago. The betrayal ran deeper than Lorenzo. That was just the surface. The first ripple. “The leak wasn’t just about Midtown,” Riccardo said, his voice low and flint-sharp. “Someone’s been feeding intel to Bruno’s network for months. Every movement we’ve made—the delays, the missing shipments—it was all orchestrated.” Camilla leaned against the far wall, arms crossed. She’d changed out of her blood-slick
The Mafia Protocol The Devil’s Summit
The city held its breath. Storm clouds loomed over the skyline, thick and pulsing like a living thing. Beneath them, the Falcone estate was alight with activity—guards posted at every entrance, black cars parked in a tight circle like sentinels. Camilla stood at the top of the grand staircase, a vision in black silk, her gaze fixed on the wrought-iron gates beyond the courtyard. “They’re here,” Marco said behind her. Camilla didn’t flinch. “Let them in.” Tonight wasn’t about peace. It was about dominance. The remaining heads of the Five Families—what was left of them—had finally agreed to a summit. Not out of loyalty. Not even out of fear. But because power demanded attention. And after Lorenzo’s betrayal, after the silence that followed Bruno’s last play, it was time to put the final pieces in place. Riccardo descended the stairs beside her, dressed in black-on-black, his expression carved from stone. “You’re certain about this?” he asked. Camilla nodded. “Let them see what w
The Mafia Protocol The Firestorm Unleashed
The city was alive with chaos, the distant sounds of gunfire and shattering glass reverberating in the cold night air. Riccardo and Camilla stood side by side, their gazes fixed on the battlefield unfolding before them. The war they had initiated was no longer a distant threat—it was now a full-scale assault, and nothing would be the same when the dust settled. The first wave had been executed flawlessly, their men swiftly taking down key operations and destabilizing Delgado’s forces. Riccardo’s plan had worked so far, but the true test had just begun. The enemy was reeling, but they wouldn’t stay down for long. Camilla felt a chill run through her as the sounds of the conflict grew louder, closer. It wasn’t just the gunfire that unsettled her—it was the feeling of being on the cusp of something bigger than either of them could control. The stakes had escalated, and with each passing minute, the threat of retaliation grew stronger. “Are you ready?” Riccardo’s voice cut through her
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