Semua Bab The Angel's Sin: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Earlier..Don Leon’s POVIt was 9:40 pm on the clock.Don Leon sat quietly in his study room, behind his massive desk—sipping his vodka.It was windy.He could smell Lake Como—Lario—an ancient glacial lake of Lombardy.Its chill mingled with the earthy, fruity scent of a half-burned Cuban cigar—resting in the ashtray.The thick smoke coming from it was immediately suppressed like a mirage.Together with the sharp clarity of his scentless vodka—filled the room.A crystal bottle sat uncapped on the mahogany table.Half drunk.Forgotten.Outside, the wind rattled the pines along the estate wall.He could hear it.Loud.But it did nothing to distract him.The past still came knocking quietly on the windows of his mind.His gaze shifted to the quiet Leandro, seated in the middle of the room across from the Don—on the brown leather couch.Quietly signing some documents.The same couch Antonio, his grandson, occupied just the night before.Don Leon’s mind replayed Antonio’s words before he l

The hotel—fucking—Valgrande.Straight out of a goddamn billionaire’s catalog.All polished stone and darkwood.Clean lines and soft lighting.It pretends to be peaceful.But it's crawling with the mafia—and rich, sick, twisted people who do deprived things in their spare time.Like illegal hobbies.And some acts or things that can be considered as criminal.Like orgies, arms dealings, drugs and murder.Six stories high, it was tucked into the quiet streets of Domodossola—like it didn't have secrets bleeding from its walls.The kind of place that whispered money.Not power.And that made it more dangerous.‘You can fucking buy anything and anyone with money.’The CIA wouldn't make it past the gate without a bullet snapping at their heels.And if they managed to get inside?They’ll disappear like magic.It’s like these people have built-in CIA undercover detectors.No body.No nothing.Just gone.Without a trace.Tony only managed to get inside because he knew how to blend in.He knew h

Silence remained.It was deafening.“Urgh..”Then a groan.Tony scanned the surroundings as best as he could in his position.Silver eyes sharp and narrowing.Eyes went to the place where the bullets had come from—above the building across the streets.But he couldn't see beyond the pierced, shattered wall glass.‘They’ve become frosted from the cracks. What kind of fucking glass is it? Reinforced?’But he was thankful for that.Add the fact that there are high awnings and big umbrellas scattered outside the front entrance.It stretched up to the long and wide open courtyard of the hotel.And it ended before the open parking lot with tall high gates, cutting the streets.Alvaro was still under him—trembling like a leaf.Tony immediately pulled him in an angle where they couldn't be seen from above, taking with them a leg of a table, making it topple.Using it a shield.Hiding behind it.Out of the sniper’s visuals.‘Thank God for the useless decor.’In between the front wall glass ent

“Now then.. go out with me..”The entire space inside the ruined restaurant of hotel Valgrande, stilled.Even the air seemed to hesitate.Tony’s voice wasn't even that loud.But somehow, the wind carried it, slicing clean through the blood, the bullets, shattered glass, debris and confusion.Angel could only blink, as did everyone else inside the restaurant..If only the earth could open and swallow him whole—Angel would gladly go down without a damn fight.‘This guy has nerves of steel! This bastard!’The silence, coupled with the stunned, almost comical expressions of the two witnesses, made Angel even more tongue tied and mortified.“W-wha..what?” Angel whispered.His face bloomed red, a furious red, like vivid roses.His fingers curled into the hem of his white dress shirt.It suddenly felt a thousand times too thin.Too short.Too transparent.Tony grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos he’d unleashed.Unbothered by the soft gasps and wide eyed stares, he leaned forward with a voice

“Is he still alive?”Calm.Composed.Maria Santa De Leones.A socialite.The cold witch.Don Leon’s daughter-in-law.Her life now was defined by lavish parties.Custom-made jewelry.The sleek, expensive lines of her personal Bentley.Not from her husband’s pocket—but her own.She even bought Alvaro a new car recently.One that now sits, riddled with bullet holes in this very Hotel Valgrande parking lot.‘I’ll buy him a new one,’ she thought.But once—She’s known as ‘the wild heiress’.A princess from a small mafia family that no one took seriously.Not big enough to threaten.Not loud enough to remember.But they were loyal.To a fault.Their business?Heavy duty weapons.Missiles.RPGs.Anti-aircraft.Tanks.And their clients?Not street gangs.Not thugs.They catered to Russians.Arabs.Ukrainians.Military grade.Top shelf.Clean hands.It was something that Bernardo overlooked.Underestimated.Because ever since she married the soft spoken Leandro—She went quiet.Tamed.Or so it