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Steel and grudges
Last Updated:
2025-05-09 01:20:37
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The encrypted radio crackled to life in the strategy room beneath the Pyrenees stronghold, its steel walls humming with quiet tension. Vulture adjusted the dial, narrowing his eyes as the FBI’s voice came through, garbled but clear enough to send chills.Bain stood beside him, arms folded. Petrov leaned against the wall, face carved from stone. Sokolov tapped his fingers slowly against the steel table. Liang stood motionless in the shadows, unreadable as always.“We’ve managed to secure most of the girls,” the voice from the other end said. “Some were reunited with their families already. Others are under our protection—surveillance detail, social workers, clean documentation. We’ve kept them safe.”Everyone in the room felt the invisible exhale of relief.“But there’s more,” the FBI agent continued, voice hardening. “We found a body this morning. Young. Fifteen, maybe. Fished from the Tiber. Her hands were bound, her ribs shattered. There was a message carved into her skin.”The room
Last Updated : 2025-05-09The mafia’s captive Old wolves
The call had been days in the making—encrypted, untraceable, set on a secure satellite frequency only known to the oldest survivors of past wars. It wasn’t a call made lightly. Not to a man like —Valeria’s father, once a general feared across Eastern Europe. A ghost who rarely emerged from the shadows of old power.Now, his weathered face appeared on the screen, lit by the dim yellow light of some hidden estate. Lines carved deep into his skin. Eyes sharp as broken glass.Vulture leaned forward into the camera. The same steel threaded through him. Age hadn’t dulled him either.They stared at each other for a moment. Not as enemies. Not yet. Just as two old wolves measuring the distance between instincts and ruin.“She’s not well,” Vulture began, voice low. “And I’m not just talking about ambition or vengeance. I’m talking about cruelty for pleasure. About butchered girls, stolen infants, and soldiers she’s trained like war dogs since they were children.”He didn’t flinch. “I’ve heard…
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The night air in the Pyrenees was crisp and silent, blanketing the stronghold like a second skin. Snow clung to the high peaks beyond, a deceptive quiet before the next wave of violence.Inside the war room, Viktor—Bain’s right-hand man, sharp as a blade and loyal beyond question—entered with a satchel full of sealed folders and encrypted drives. His eyes, always cold with calculation, softened briefly when he locked eyes with Bain.“Intel from the Montenegro vaults,” Viktor said, handing over the satchel. “Valeria’s logistics. Weapon routes. Hidden accounts. Communications trails. All verified.”Bain took the satchel, nodding once. “You went dark for four days. That wasn’t part of the plan.”“She has eyes in France,” Viktor muttered. “Two of my contacts are dead. One screamed her name before he died.”Cassie, who had just entered to feed Cassian, paused at the doorway, holding the baby close to her chest. Her eyes met Viktor’s. Wary. Respectful.“You okay?” she asked quietly.“I will
Last Updated : 2025-05-09The mafia’s captive Whispers beneath
The storm outside the Pyrenees stronghold had eased to a cold, eerie stillness, but within the war room, tension was rising by the minute.Vulture stood near the window, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The conversation with General Arturo de la Cruz lingered in the air like smoke—both men had been soldiers, commanders, survivors of bloodied decades. But even Arturo couldn’t deny what his daughter had become.“He said he just wanted to see Elias one last time,” Vulture muttered, facing the others. “And he did. But he also said something else… that Valeria always hid her worst obsessions behind the ones people could see.”Bain’s jaw tensed. “Meaning?”Liang stepped forward. He’d been quiet through most of the night, eyes sharp, watchful. But now, he unfolded a paper-thin map from his coat and smoothed it across the table.“It means this isn’t just about your son. Or Cassie. Or even you,” Liang said. His tone was calm, but his gaze was hard as stone. “I’ve been watching her patt
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The mafia’s captive Whispers beneath
The storm outside the Pyrenees stronghold had eased to a cold, eerie stillness, but within the war room, tension was rising by the minute.Vulture stood near the window, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The conversation with General Arturo de la Cruz lingered in the air like smoke—both men had been soldiers, commanders, survivors of bloodied decades. But even Arturo couldn’t deny what his daughter had become.“He said he just wanted to see Elias one last time,” Vulture muttered, facing the others. “And he did. But he also said something else… that Valeria always hid her worst obsessions behind the ones people could see.”Bain’s jaw tensed. “Meaning?”Liang stepped forward. He’d been quiet through most of the night, eyes sharp, watchful. But now, he unfolded a paper-thin map from his coat and smoothed it across the table.“It means this isn’t just about your son. Or Cassie. Or even you,” Liang said. His tone was calm, but his gaze was hard as stone. “I’ve been watching her patt
The mafia’s captive The flame
The night air in the Pyrenees was crisp and silent, blanketing the stronghold like a second skin. Snow clung to the high peaks beyond, a deceptive quiet before the next wave of violence.Inside the war room, Viktor—Bain’s right-hand man, sharp as a blade and loyal beyond question—entered with a satchel full of sealed folders and encrypted drives. His eyes, always cold with calculation, softened briefly when he locked eyes with Bain.“Intel from the Montenegro vaults,” Viktor said, handing over the satchel. “Valeria’s logistics. Weapon routes. Hidden accounts. Communications trails. All verified.”Bain took the satchel, nodding once. “You went dark for four days. That wasn’t part of the plan.”“She has eyes in France,” Viktor muttered. “Two of my contacts are dead. One screamed her name before he died.”Cassie, who had just entered to feed Cassian, paused at the doorway, holding the baby close to her chest. Her eyes met Viktor’s. Wary. Respectful.“You okay?” she asked quietly.“I will
The mafia’s captive Old wolves
The call had been days in the making—encrypted, untraceable, set on a secure satellite frequency only known to the oldest survivors of past wars. It wasn’t a call made lightly. Not to a man like —Valeria’s father, once a general feared across Eastern Europe. A ghost who rarely emerged from the shadows of old power.Now, his weathered face appeared on the screen, lit by the dim yellow light of some hidden estate. Lines carved deep into his skin. Eyes sharp as broken glass.Vulture leaned forward into the camera. The same steel threaded through him. Age hadn’t dulled him either.They stared at each other for a moment. Not as enemies. Not yet. Just as two old wolves measuring the distance between instincts and ruin.“She’s not well,” Vulture began, voice low. “And I’m not just talking about ambition or vengeance. I’m talking about cruelty for pleasure. About butchered girls, stolen infants, and soldiers she’s trained like war dogs since they were children.”He didn’t flinch. “I’ve heard…
The mafia’s captive Firelight
The encrypted radio crackled to life in the strategy room beneath the Pyrenees stronghold, its steel walls humming with quiet tension. Vulture adjusted the dial, narrowing his eyes as the FBI’s voice came through, garbled but clear enough to send chills.Bain stood beside him, arms folded. Petrov leaned against the wall, face carved from stone. Sokolov tapped his fingers slowly against the steel table. Liang stood motionless in the shadows, unreadable as always.“We’ve managed to secure most of the girls,” the voice from the other end said. “Some were reunited with their families already. Others are under our protection—surveillance detail, social workers, clean documentation. We’ve kept them safe.”Everyone in the room felt the invisible exhale of relief.“But there’s more,” the FBI agent continued, voice hardening. “We found a body this morning. Young. Fifteen, maybe. Fished from the Tiber. Her hands were bound, her ribs shattered. There was a message carved into her skin.”The room
The mafia’s captive Steel and grudges
The sound of fists hitting sandbags echoed through the Pyrenees stronghold. The air smelled of sweat, oil, and sharpened steel. Bain was relentless—sweat glistened on his brow, his fists red from impact. He wasn’t just training—he was preparing for war.Outside the training ring, Cassie walked into the courtyard with purpose. Her hair was pulled into a loose braid, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she approached Vulture, who was lounging in a shaded corner, baby Cassian resting comfortably in his arms like a tiny warlord.“I came to feed him,” Cassie said, hands on her hips.Vulture looked at her and grinned, raising a brow. “Oh, now you remember you have a son? He’s been ruling the courtyard for an hour. Everyone bowed twice.”Cassie chuckled, stepping closer and scooping Cassian gently into her arms. “Don’t fill his head with lies.”“He prefers my beard,” Vulture added with a mock sigh. “Yours doesn’t tickle the same.”She rolled her eyes but smiled wide. As she settled in to fee
The mafia’s captive Blood messages
The box arrived in silence.No return label. No markings. Just a single white ribbon tied in a perfect bow.Vulture had seen enough war to know: when evil sends a gift, it’s never empty.He opened the box in the war room. Inside were two small, bloodied hands—clearly from a young girl. They were nailed to a crude wooden stake, with a note pinned beneath them.“If you will not give me back my son, I will take children from the world and burn their names into your hearts. —V.”Cassie gagged. Elias looked away, face pale.Bain’s jaw clenched as he grabbed the table edge so hard his knuckles went white. “She’s using children. Again.”Vulture nodded grimly. “She trained those assassins since they were twelve. She’s unleashing them now—Bone Circle’s final litter.”As if on cue, Bain’s encrypted line buzzed. It was Agent Ramirez from the FBI.“Vulture,” the agent said immediately, voice sharp. “We have to work together. Valeria just crossed into sovereign red territory. We intercepted one of
The mafia’s captive Crimson petals
The Bone Circle’s hideout stank of decay and blood. Valeria stood at the head of a long, steel table, where a map of the Pyrenees was spread out—covered not in markers or pins, but in dried blood smears and jagged carvings. Around her stood her most trusted killers, the Bone Circle. Dressed in bone-white uniforms, they looked more like reapers than assassins.Beside Valeria stood a row of girls, barely women, scarred, emotionless, their eyes dead from years of training and torment. She had raised them since adolescence—trained them to be shadows, to kill silently, beautifully. They were her legacy. Her wrath made flesh.“This time,” she whispered, “we don’t strike with force. We slice their hope. Piece by piece.”One of the girls approached, carrying a wooden pole. At the top of it hung a severed hand—small, delicate—belonging to one of the trafficked girls Vulture’s forces had recently freed. A brutal message. Valeria smiled coldly.“Deliver this to the edge of the Pyrenees. Let Bain
The mafia’s captive Allies and insults
The war room inside First Choice’s Pyrenees stronghold was dim, atmospheric, and alive with quiet tension. Surveillance monitors cast a bluish glow across the dark wooden panels, and a large tactical table sat pulsing at the center, marked with glowing zones and encrypted flags.Bain stood at one side of the table, arms folded, eyes sharp. Across from him was Liang, the Triad’s commander—slender, severe, immaculately dressed in charcoal silk with a dragon pin glinting at his collar. His demeanor was unreadable, but his presence was felt like an unsheathed blade.“Five of my best men are already positioned along the outer ridge,” Liang said calmly. “Two are specialists. You will not see them unless they want you to.”“I like ghosts,” Vulture muttered from his lounge chair beside the fireplace, Cassian nestled on his chest like a tiny prince. “So long as they don’t try to touch my bourbon.”Liang ignored him. “Another team will establish blind zones in your satellite perimeter, so nothi
The mafia’s captive Cats and shadows
The Pyrenees fortress stood silent under a veil of mist, its stone walls blending seamlessly with the rugged mountainside. Inside, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with anticipation.Vulture sat in the command room, eyes fixed on the surveillance monitors. A soft chime signaled an incoming encrypted transmission. He tapped the console, and Petrov’s stern face appeared.“We’re approaching the designated coordinates,” Petrov announced. “The Triad operatives are with me. Five, as discussed.”Vulture nodded. “Ensure they follow the safe passages. The mountain watches every step.”Petrov smirked. “They know the drill. No missteps.”Moments later, the fortress’s outer sensors detected movement. Vulture switched views, observing five figures navigating the treacherous terrain with practiced ease. Their movements were precise, almost choreographed—a testament to their training.Inside the fortress, Bain and Cassie stood by the entrance, awaiting their arrival. As the group entered, the
