All Chapters of The mafia’s captive : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

It happened fast.Too fast.The early morning stillness shattered as alarms wailed through the compound like sirens in hell. Red lights pulsed along the halls. The sound of boots pounding against marble echoed like war drums. The air was thick with smoke and chaos.Cassie clutched her son tighter to her chest, her heart thundering like a war drum as she crouched behind the nursery’s overturned dresser. The baby whimpered, sensing the fear vibrating off her. Outside the room, gunfire cracked in rapid bursts, each one like lightning slicing through her nerves.Then the door burst open.Luca.His shirt was soaked in sweat, a rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes feral and scanning. “Cassie! We’ve been breached—they’re inside.”She didn’t ask questions. She just nodded.He rushed to her side and grabbed the baby carrier with one hand, helping her up with the other. “Stay behind me. No matter what. Do you understand?”“Yes,” she whispered, her voice tight with fear.They moved.Luca led them

Romanian Mountains – 2:00 AMThe snowstorm was blinding. Ice crackled under Viktor’s boots as he crouched behind the outcrop overlooking the secluded mountain lodge. Inside, the Romanian syndicate—contracted killers with ties to Valeria—laughed around a long oak table, their breath misting in the frigid air.Viktor’s voice was calm through the comms. “Target confirmed. Twelve inside. All armed.”From a nearby ridge, Petrov’s sniper clicked into position. Bain’s orders had been simple: “No survivors.”Viktor gave a low whistle.The first shot rang out, shattering the skull of the leader mid-toast. The room descended into chaos—men diving, weapons drawn—but it was too late.Viktor stormed through the front door, twin pistols raised.Three fell before they even reached cover. Another tried to escape through the kitchen and was met by an assassin’s blade from the snow. Blood stained the white floors.It was over in five minutes.Viktor knelt beside the last man gasping on the floor. “Tell

The skies over Vulture’s Domain burned gold with the rising sun, casting a regal light on the vast fortress hidden deep in the mountains of northern Italy. The sprawling estate stood like a myth brought to life—black stone walls lined with thorn-covered vines, watchtowers manned with elite guards, and a grand courtyard paved in dark marble that shimmered in the morning light.The transport arrived in silence, cloaked and armored, as it rolled through the massive gates. Cassie stepped out first, cradling her one-month-old son to her chest, her face tight with exhaustion but alert. The Widowmaker followed, her hand never far from the pistol on her hip. She gave a nod to the guards—men who didn’t flinch even at the sight of her. Respect ran deep here.From the main doors of the mansion emerged the Vulture himself. Cloaked in a long black coat, his presence was as chilling as it was charismatic. His silver-streaked hair framed sharp eyes that missed nothing. But when his gaze fell on Cass

The sky over Marseille bled smoke and flame. Bain stood at the edge of the docks, his jaw tight, eyes fixed on the twisted wreckage of what used to be one of his largest arms shipments. The heat from the blast still lingered in the air, curling around his coat like ghost fingers. Flames licked the remains of steel containers, and the scent of burning fuel clawed into his senses.“She did this,” Viktor growled beside him, broken shards of metal reflected in his cold eyes. “Valeria. She knew when it would arrive. She knew everything.”“She’s making a statement,” Bain said, his voice low and controlled. “She wants us to bleed.”Behind them, emergency crews battled the blaze, but the loss was already staggering. Millions in weapons, gone. But it wasn’t about the money. It was about the war she’d just escalated.Viktor’s phone buzzed. He stepped away to answer, then returned, face grave. “Worse. One of Petrov’s family compounds in Belgrade was hit. His niece was there—barely made it out al

he morning sun stretched gold fingers across the dense forests guarding Vulture’s compound. It was quiet. Too quiet. Bain didn’t trust silence anymore—not since the black ledger.With Cassian resting peacefully in his arms, Bain stepped into the private office flanked by Vulture, who had already cleared the room. The walls were soundproof. The security, doubled.The child stirred slightly in Bain’s arms but didn’t cry—he never cried when Bain held him. Something in him stilled in Bain’s presence, a sense of calm inherited from blood and bond.A soft beep marked the connection. Seconds later, Petrov appeared on the secure screen, face lined with exhaustion. Sokolov joined soon after, half-shadowed but wide-eyed.“Report,” Sokolov said quietly, skipping any pleasantries.Bain adjusted Cassian gently in his arm, then nodded to Vulture, who remained beside him like a fortress. “We found her ledger. It was hidden beneath the club floor in Suez. What we thought was just trafficking…” Bain’s