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WEB OF DECEIT

last update publish date: 2026-01-15 16:17:27

Dante’s POV

The warehouse loomed like a fortress under the sodium lights, but tonight it felt like a trap. Nico met us at the side entrance, his tattooed arms crossed, face grim. “Alessio’s inside with three of Rossi’s goons. Claiming it’s a ‘meeting’ about territory. But I overheard— they’re planning to snatch Luca if you show.”

Dmitri, patched up and shaky from the doc’s quick detox shot, nodded. “That’s the play. Alessio sells you out, Rossi gets Luca as payment, Viktor gets the scraps.”

Luc
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  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE FOREVER LIGHT

    Amara’s POVOne thousand years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At one thousand and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. One thousand years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single

  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE INFINITE HORIZON

    Amara’s POVOne thousand years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At one thousand and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. One thousand years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single

  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   BEYOND FOREVER

    Amara’s POVFive hundred years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At five hundred and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. Five hundred years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single

  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE INFINITE LEGACY

    Amara’s POVThree hundred years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At three hundred and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. Three hundred years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every sin

  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE INFINITE SHORE

    Amara’s POVTwo hundred years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At two hundred and eighteen, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. Two hundred years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy over fear every single da

  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE FOREVER TIDE

    Amara’s POVOne hundred and fifty years after we burned the old empire and chose a different life, the atoll had become something that no longer needed our protection — it protected those who came after.I sat on the familiar bench at the end of the main dock as the sun slipped toward the horizon, painting the lagoon in shades of rose and deep gold. My hands rested in my lap, the walking stick Tunde had carved for me long ago leaning against the railing. At one hundred and sixty-eight, my steps were very slow and careful, but my heart felt lighter than it had in the days when survival was all we knew.Leo sat beside me, his hand finding mine without looking. His hair was pure white, his face deeply lined with laughter and sun, yet his grip remained warm and sure — the same hand that had cut my zip ties in that warehouse so many lifetimes ago. One hundred and fifty years had deepened the lines on both our faces, but they were laugh lines, sun lines, the kind earned from choosing joy ov

  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE FIRST BLOOD

    Amara’s POVThe platform is twenty-three nautical miles off Lagos—rusted legs rising from black water like the skeleton of something prehistoric that refused to die. We approach at 02:17 local time under a moonless sky. No running lights. Engines cut at two miles out. Small black inflatable carries

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-04-05
  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE PLATFORM RECKONING

    Amara’s POVForty-eight hours pass like forty-eight heartbeats—each one louder than the last.We don’t wait for Gideon to make the next move. We go to him.The defunct oil platform—once Nadia’s hidden lab, now a blackened skeleton—sits twenty-three nautical miles off Lagos. We approach at 02:17 loc

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-04-05
  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE FIRST RECRUIT & THE LESSON THAT CUTS DEEP

    Amara’s POVThe warehouse smells of rust, old diesel and the faint chemical bite of the containment unit humming in the corner. It’s 04:47. None of us have slept.Leo is cleaning his carbine on a crate—methodical, angry strokes. Kai is hunched over a laptop, triple-checking the encrypted feeds from

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-04-05
  • UNDER THE DON’S PROTECTION   THE TWINS’ ADULTHOOD – TWENTY YEARS LATER

    Luca’s POVSixty-three years had passed since the ice closed over the last node in Antarctica. The atoll had not changed much—lagoon still mirror-clear at dawn, garden still spilling over railings in defiant color, bungalow still standing on its weathered stilts—but we had. Dante’s hair was fully s

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-04-03
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