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A Throne Beside the King
Last Updated:
2025-03-31 02:55:21
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The First ShotI felt the bullet before I heard it.The air shifted—hot, fast.Then—glass exploded.“Down!”A hand slammed into my chest, shoving me back.I hit the floor hard, the scent of whiskey and smoke mixing with the sharp tang of gunpowder.The room was chaos.Shouts. Scraping chairs. The metallic click of guns being drawn.Another shot.I rolled, pressing against the floor, my heart hammering.Then—silence.Not the natural kind.The kind that was waiting.I looked up.Dante was standing.Gun drawn.Expression—murderous.“Find them,” he said, voice low. Lethal.Men scrambled.And me?I exhaled, pushing myself up. My pulse was a drumbeat in my throat.I had just been shot at.Me.Not Dante. Not one of his men.Me.And that meant one thing.Someone wanted to take me off the board.The Aftermath – Dante’s FuryThe house was locked down within minutes.Windows covered. Security doubled. Every man on high alert.But Dante?Dante wasn’t focused on defense.He was focused on revenge.
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Way Out: Owned by the Mafia Boss The Price of Betrayal
The CaptiveThe man was tied to the chair.Wrists bound, head slumped forward, breathing ragged.He wasn’t dead.Not yet.But he’d wish he was before we were done.Dante stood in front of him, rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt.There was no rush.Pain was always more effective when it took its time.“Wake him up,” Dante said.I stepped forward.My knuckles connected with his jaw. Hard.His head snapped to the side, a groan escaping his lips.Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. Bleary. Bloodshot.And when he finally focused?He saw me.His expression flickered—surprise, then something darker.He wasn’t afraid of me.Not yet.But he would be.Who Sent the Hit?Dante crouched in front of him, elbows resting on his knees.“Let’s not waste time.”His voice was calm. Too calm.“Who ordered the hit?”The man exhaled sharply. A laugh—low, broken.“You think I’ll tell you?” His voice was hoarse.Dante smiled. Slow. Dangerous.“You will.”He stood, adjusting his cuffs, before looking
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Way Out: Owned by the Mafia Boss No More Weakness
The Moment of DecisionSalvatore sat frozen in his chair.The weight of what was happening finally settling in.Dante stood beside me, silent. Waiting.This was my call.I could feel every set of eyes on me. Our men. His men. The people who had doubted me, underestimated me, assumed I was just Dante’s pretty little second-in-command.This was my chance to show them exactly who I was.Exactly what I was capable of.I exhaled slowly.Then, I turned to one of our men standing by the door.“Knife.”A blade was handed to me within seconds.Salvatore tensed.I turned the knife over in my palm, feeling the weight of it. Considering.Then, I looked at him.“You made a mistake,” I said calmly.He swallowed. “Luca—”I slammed the blade into his hand.The sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone filled the room.Salvatore’s scream echoed.I twisted the knife slowly.“I’m not interested in your excuses.”The WarningBlood pooled on the table.Salvatore gasped, face pale.I leaned in, my voic
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Way Out: Owned by the Mafia Boss The Quiet Between Us
The car ride was silent.Dante sat beside me in the backseat, one hand resting against the leather seat, the other holding a cigarette between his fingers. The faint glow of the ember cast shadows across his face.Outside, the city blurred past us—neon lights, dark streets, empty sidewalks.Everything felt too quiet.Too still.The scent of blood still clung to my skin, even after I’d wiped my hands clean. My shirt had specks of it, and the memory of Salvatore’s last breath still echoed in my mind.I had killed before. But this was different.This was power.This was becoming something I couldn’t walk away from.Dante exhaled smoke, his gaze fixed out the window. He hadn’t spoken since we left the warehouse.I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to.Not yet.Not when my pulse was still pounding from the weight of everything that had just happened.The Penthouse: Only UsThe moment we stepped inside Dante’s penthouse, the world outside disappeared.The city was loud. The business was brutal. B
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The world doesn’t stop after you take a life.That’s the first thing I learned.I had expected something to shift. Something to break.But the city kept moving. The sky didn’t darken. The ground didn’t split open beneath my feet.I had walked out of that warehouse with blood on my hands, and the world had kept going.And that was the part that scared me the most.The Weight of SilenceThe penthouse was quiet.Dante had left early, something about a meeting with the capos. He hadn’t said much before he left—just a lingering touch, a look that told me he knew I wasn’t okay.But he hadn’t asked.Dante never asked.And I never told him.I sat at the bar, staring at the untouched glass of whiskey in front of me.I had killed before. But this wasn’t like before.This time, I had done it for power.For a place at Dante’s side.For us.But was there even an us anymore?Or was I just a part of his empire now—another piece on the board?A Ghost in the MirrorI got up, walking into the bathroom.
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A False Sense of PeaceFor the first time in days, the tension had eased.Dante had called an emergency meeting with the capos, leaving me at the penthouse with orders to stay put.I didn’t argue.I needed space.Time to breathe.To figure out if I was really as trapped as Dante made me feel.But the thing about power?It never lets you rest.The HitThe first sign something was wrong was the silence.Dante’s penthouse was never truly quiet. His men were always around, stationed near the entrances, patrolling the halls.But tonight, there was nothing.The hair on the back of my neck stood up.I set my drink down, my mind already cataloging escape routes, weapons, weaknesses.Then—The lights went out.I moved instantly.The gun Dante had given me was in my hand before I even had time to think.A second later, the glass balcony doors shattered.I ducked behind the couch, heart hammering, gun raised.A shadow moved through the darkness. Silent. Trained.Not a random thug.A professional
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Way Out: Owned by the Mafia Boss The Devil in the Dark
The MessageThe body arrived at sunrise.Luca was still asleep when Matteo called.Dante answered on the first ring.“You need to see this.”The weight in Matteo’s voice sent ice through Dante’s veins.Thirty minutes later, they were at the docks.A shipping container had been left open, the salty morning air carrying the scent of blood.Inside, a single chair sat in the middle of the steel room.And tied to it—The man who had tried to kill Luca.Except now, he was dead.His throat had been slit, his hands nailed to the armrests.Blood soaked the floor beneath him, dark and glistening in the dim light.Matteo handed Dante a note.No signature. No insignia. Just a single sentence.“You’re not untouchable, Romano.”Dante clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around the paper.Whoever had sent this wasn’t just making a move.They were declaring war.Luca Wakes to ChaosLuca knew something was wrong the second he opened his eyes.Dante was standing by the window, his phone to his ear, voi
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Luca’s POVI wasn’t sure when I stopped sleeping with both eyes closed.Maybe it was the night I slit Salvatore’s throat, or maybe it was when Dante called me his empire. But I knew what that really meant.Empires burn.I woke to silence.Not peaceful.Tense.Even before I sat up, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it—like pressure in the air before a storm. I grabbed my gun from the nightstand, not because I thought someone had breached the penthouse, but because paranoia is survival in this world.When I stepped into the living room, Matteo was there.Alone.Too quiet.I didn’t speak. Neither did he.He stood, staring out at the city skyline, one hand holding a lit cigarette, the other tucked into his jacket like he was hiding something.Maybe regret.Or maybe a weapon.I waited.He finally said, “You think you understand this world now.”My jaw tightened.“I understand it better than you think.”He exhaled smoke, still not looking at me. “Then you know not everyone is happy w
Last Updated : 2025-04-15
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The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. I stirred awake, the events of the previous night replaying vividly in my mind. Mira lay beside me, her breathing steady, a serene expression on her face. The intimacy we shared had been inevitable, a culmination of suppressed emotions and unspoken desires.I gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her skin. The warmth of her presence was comforting, yet a pang of guilt gnawed at me. Dante’s face flashed in my mind, his unwavering trust and camaraderie. How would he react if he knew?Mira stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She offered a soft smile, her hand reaching out to touch mine.“Good morning,” she whispered. “Morning,” I replied, my voice hoarse.We lay in silence, the weight of our actions settling in.“Do you regret it?” she asked, her voice barely audible.I turned to face her, searching her eyes. “No,” I admitted. “But I worry about the consequences.”
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The night was quiet, yet sleep eluded me. The soft hum of the city outside my window contrasted sharply with the storm brewing within me. I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows resting on my knees, hands clasped tightly as if trying to hold myself together.Mira’s face lingered in my mind—the curve of her smile, the warmth of her gaze, the way her laughter eased my burdens. I had tried to dismiss these thoughts, to push them aside as mere distractions, but they persisted, growing stronger with each passing day.Dante’s presence had always been a constant in my life, a source of strength and stability. Our bond was forged through shared experiences, mutual respect, and a deep understanding of each other’s complexities. Yet, lately, a distance had begun to form, subtle but undeniable. Conversations felt strained, silences more prolonged. I couldn’t pinpoint when it had started, but I felt it—a growing chasm that neither of us acknowledged.I rose from the bed, pacing the room in an attempt
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The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. I sat on the edge of the bed, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. The events of the previous night replayed in my mind—Mira’s unexpected presence, our unintended intimacy, and the ensuing guilt that gnawed at my conscience.I hadn’t planned for any of it. Our meeting was supposed to be a simple exchange of information, a step in Dante’s plan to exploit the Ember Pact’s weaknesses. But emotions had a way of derailing even the most meticulous strategies.A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. Before I could respond, Dante entered, his presence commanding as always.“You’re up early,” he remarked, his gaze assessing.“Couldn’t sleep,” I replied, avoiding his eyes.He approached, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Something’s bothering you.”I hesitated, the weight of my guilt pressing down on me. “I met with Mira last night.”His expression remained neutral, but I sensed the tension beneath th
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The city pulsed with unrest, its heartbeat erratic and fevered. The collapse of the Ember Pact had left a vacuum, and chaos eagerly filled the void. Dante, ever the strategist, had sent me to exploit the fractures, to turn allies into adversaries and sow discord among the remnants.I found myself in the heart of the turmoil, navigating treacherous alliances and whispered conspiracies. It was during one of these clandestine meetings that I first encountered Mira.She was a courier, or so she claimed, delivering messages between factions too cautious to use digital means. Our paths crossed in a dimly lit tavern, the air thick with smoke and tension.“You’re Luca, right?” she asked, her voice a blend of curiosity and caution.I nodded, studying her. She was striking, with eyes that held secrets and a posture that suggested she was always ready to flee or fight.“I have something for you,” she said, slipping a folded note into my hand before disappearing into the crowd.The note contained
Way Out: Owned by the Mafia Boss Smoke Without Fire
Luca’s POVHe vanished.No blood. No body. No message.Umbraion was gone—but his shadow grew longer.We killed the man.But we didn’t kill the myth.Two days after the summit assault, the city cracked open.It started as whispers.Conspiracy posts. Obscure message boards.Then the edits came—reels of Umbraion speaking, his voice spliced over footage of burned neighborhoods and police raids. The captions read like scripture:“If they can kill me, they can silence you.”“We are the fire. They are the smoke.”“No masters. No mercy. Only freedom.”It caught fire faster than we could trace the source.Within a week, the words were scrawled across alley walls and subway tiles.Within two?They were chanted in the streets.I watched from the rooftop as the protest turned.It had been peaceful—at first. A gathering in front of the city hall steps. Candles. Chants. Umbraion’s symbol painted on cardboard signs.Then someone threw a bottle.Then someone fired a shot.Then the police pushed forw
Way Out: Owned by the Mafia Boss Kill the Root
POV: LucaNo amount of training prepares you for walking into a place you know you might never leave.The Boston freight yard looked like it hadn’t seen daylight in a decade. Rusted tracks. Chain-link fences curling like dead ivy. Everything coated in soot, fog, and silence.But beneath it?The summit.Umbraion’s table.The heart of the Ember Pact.Dante and I crouched beside a rusted cargo container, hidden in shadow as the drone above fed us intel. Enzo’s people were tracking five vehicles arriving from different directions.Selene’s voice crackled through the comms. “They’re moving into position. 14 confirmed targets. Two more unconfirmed.”Dante whispered to me, low and close. “You still sure?”I looked at him.“No.”He smiled faintly. “Good. That means we’re sane.”We moved in with four others—two ex-military, two loyal soldiers from Dante’s original guard.It was surgical.Or it was supposed to be.We breached through the maintenance hatch on the northeast side. Metal screeched
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Luca’s POVThe war room felt different with Selene in it.Not colder. Not warmer. Just… sharper.She stood at the edge of the table, arms crossed, gaze flicking over every face like she was still calculating threat levels. You didn’t spend a decade inside the Hollow Sect and walk out of it clean.But she wasn’t their soldier anymore.She was ours.Dante leaned over the map, voice low and clipped. “Start from the beginning. Everything.”Selene nodded once. “Umbraion’s plan isn’t local anymore. It’s not about turf. It’s not even about power. It’s ideological collapse. He believes if he destabilizes the five strongest criminal systems globally, the rest will fold like dominos.”Enzo stiffened beside me. “You’re saying he’s building a world war for the underworld.”“Yes,” Selene replied. “And New York was his first test city.”I felt the weight of that.We hadn’t just been at war.We’d been part of a trial run.And we’d failed.Dante moved the pawn on the table map to our west district. “
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Luca’s POVThe city’s underbelly had always been a network of shadows and whispers, but the Hollow Sect operated in a realm even deeper—where silence was law and identity was fluid. Infiltrating them wasn’t just a mission; it was a descent into anonymity.Dante handed me a dossier, thin and unmarked. Inside, a single photograph: a woman, mid-thirties, eyes like obsidian, expression unreadable. Her name: Selene.“She’s our in,” Dante said. “Disillusioned with Umbraion’s methods. If anyone can be turned, it’s her.”I studied the photo, committing every detail to memory. “What’s her role?”“Recruitment and indoctrination. She shapes minds before they’re broken.”Perfect. If I could reach her, I could understand the Sect’s psyche.The initiation was brutal. Blindfolded, I was led through a labyrinth of corridors, each step echoing with the weight of unseen eyes. Voices murmured in languages I couldn’t place, and the air was thick with incense and something more metallic—blood, perhaps.Th
Way Out: Owned by the Mafia Boss The Ember Pact
Luca’s POVThey used to call this part of the city “untouchable.”Our territory. Our ground. Our rules.But today, it looked like a graveyard.The fires from the café had been put out. The buildings were boarded up. The smell of smoke clung to everything like bad history. It had been three days, but no one was coming back. The neighborhood was dead.And it wasn’t just here.It was spreading.We weren’t fighting a turf war anymore.We were fighting a doctrine.A religion. A revolution.And the man behind it was Umbraion.The morning meeting at the safehouse was colder than usual.No jokes. No small talk. Just Enzo, Dante, me, and the quiet hum of the old ventilation system cutting through the silence like a warning.Enzo dropped a folder on the table with enough force to shake my coffee.I opened it. I didn’t speak. I didn’t have to.Page after page—photos, names, intercepted calls, encrypted message fragments.“Confirmed intelligence,” Enzo said. “The ones we thought were just rumors?
