Semua Bab Way Out: Owned by the Mafia Boss: Bab 81 - Bab 85

Dante’s POVThe hard drive whirred like a distant whisper, a low, insistent voice bleeding secrets into the room. I sat alone at the end of the long table in my private study, lights dimmed, shadows pressing in from all corners. A tumbler of untouched whiskey sat at my elbow. The screen before me flickered to life, and with it, ghosts began to rise.The first file was dated nine years ago. Surveillance footage. Audio logs. Transcripts. Names I hadn’t heard in years. Faces I thought buried.Matteo Santoro’s digital resurrection wasn’t just a return—it was a reckoning.He had cataloged everything. Meetings I’d forgotten. Kill orders I never expected anyone to trace. Even some of the Ember Pact betrayals that had been handled in absolute silence. And then, buried deep beneath layers of encrypted data, was the real dagger:A video recording from the penthouse.The timestamp put it just days before Mira’s brother—Marco—was found dead.The footage was grainy but unmistakable. Marco, chained

Dante Moretti – Penthouse, MidnightThe city glimmered below like a wounded thing pretending not to bleed.Dante stood at the glass wall of the penthouse, back to the room, eyes fixed on the lights blinking far beneath him. Each one felt like a pin on a map, a variable to account for, a potential threat. He didn’t blink. Not when the building creaked. Not when his burner phone buzzed once on the table behind him. The static hum of the city had become background noise to a mind sharpened into something colder than steel.He had not spoken to Luca since that night.He didn’t need to. The image was seared into him—Mira’s hands buried in Luca’s hair, the way her back arched, her voice raw and unrestrained. They hadn’t seen him. But he had seen enough.That wasn’t betrayal. That was obliteration.And now, the game moved forward. Not out of revenge. Not even out of rage anymore. He was past that. This was surgical now. Strategic. Thread by thread, he would pull until everything around them