All Chapters of Burn Loot: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Rain drizzled against the windows of the mountain safe house, a sleek fortress tucked high above Genoa. Fog rolled across the cliffs like ghosts, muffling the world below. Inside, armed guards rotated shifts with precision, every hallway laced with silent cameras, and motion sensors buried beneath the floor tiles. Luciana sat in the common room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes flickering to the large screen showing feeds from the perimeter. Nearby, Isabella leaned against the wall, tension in her jaw as she toyed with a concealed blade, while Elena stood quietly by the window, watching the mist blur the valley. The storm had grounded all aerial surveillance, but the house was a bunker — practically impenetrable. Or so they thought. Downstairs, Dino had his eyes on a different screen. Sergio had requested to leave the compound earlier in the week — something about needing to run logistics for crypto fund recovery. It had seemed reasonable at the time. Dino had cleared

The night air was thick with humidity and tension. Deep in the wooded outskirts of the city, the safe house stood like a fortress—its perimeter guarded by former elite military personnel, thermal sensors humming in the undergrowth, and surveillance drones quietly hovering above.Inside, Elena, Luciana, and Isabella sat around a table in the living room, the soft hum of security monitors flickering behind them. Tomiwa paced near the window, always alert. Dino wasn’t there—he was out overseeing another counter-operation against Alejandro's smuggling ring. But he’d left specific instructions: no one comes in or out without his word.At precisely 2:17 a.m., silence shattered.A high-pitched whine pierced the night, followed by an earth-shaking boom. The south-facing perimeter wall exploded into concrete shards, scattering debris and flame in every direction. Sirens erupted. Security teams rushed to positions as gunfire lit up the trees.Viktor Petrov’s mercenaries stormed through the smok

The rain finally fell.It came in sheets, beating against the tiles of Alejandro’s secluded estate in Corsica, the one he swore nobody would trace. His hair was damp, his shirt clinging to his skin as he stood out on the veranda like a madman — cigarette between his fingers, hands trembling not from the cold, but from something deeper.Everything was collapsing.He could feel it.It started with the Balkan ports. Then the South American pipeline went dark — Dino’s whisper campaign had turned allies to ghosts. Dubai’s front businesses were frozen. Asian partners refused his calls.Even his own people… they were beginning to question him. Whispering, watching, wondering.“Cowards,” he muttered. “None of them ever had the stomach.”Behind him, Adrian entered the room, soaked and bruised from the latest skirmish in Marseille. His arm was in a sling, eyes bloodshot. He stopped short when he saw Alejandro.“He’s cutting off everything,” Adrian said, breathless. “That bastard is strangling u

The cold iron gates of the Interpol facility in Milan clanged shut with a finality that echoed through Alejandro's very soul. The once-dreaded heir of the Central Genoa Cartel now found himself flanked by guards, stripped of weapons, status, and the arrogance that used to walk into rooms before him.He bore bruises and blood on his face, but his pride clung to him like a second skin. Even in chains, Alejandro Sanchez walked with the poise of a man who still believed he was untouchable.Inside his high-security glass containment, monitored 24/7, Alejandro sat in silence as they processed his intake. Biometrics. Retinal scans. Voice samples. No loopholes. No escape.But his mind wasn’t on the facility. It was on the betrayal. The collapse. Dino’s rise. And worst of all — Isabella’s silence.He muttered under his breath, “You’ll all regret this.”In a maximum-security prison far from Alejandro’s cage, Sanchez — the deadliest drug lord and patriarch of the Sanchez family — faced a very di

The clouds over Milan had cleared.It wasn’t just the sky that seemed brighter — it was the city itself. The streets felt calmer. The fear that had long loomed like a silent shadow had lifted. The fall of the Sanchez cartel and Alejandro’s death had created a ripple effect across the continent. Rival cartels went underground. Smaller factions folded. Interpol had turned its attention to cleanup. And the public, after years of silent dread, finally breathed free.Dino stood on the edge of a terrace overlooking the piazza below. Beside him, Capello poured two glasses of wine, handing one to Dino.“Still no appetite for celebration?” Capello asked.Dino gave a half-smile. “Peace doesn’t need fireworks. Just quiet.”Capello nodded. “We’re finally in the clear, son. Elena’s safe. Isabella and Luciana are finally sleeping without one eye open.”Dino turned slightly. “Luciana… she’s been different. Focused. Restless.”Capello smirked. “She’s already started training again. Told me she wants