CHAPTER 72: Giovanni’s POV The room reeked of burnt coffee and the sharp edge of whiskey, so faint, yet persistent, like a ghost lingering in the air. Shadows from the flickering screens danced across the walls, casting a cold, blue glow that painted everything in a sterile, deadly light. On the table, glasses sat untouched, the ice melted, liquor gone cold hours ago, just like the hopes of Marco’s empire slipping away.I stood motionless, sleeves rolled back to reveal scarred hands, eyes locked on the digital death spiral of Marco’s operation. Every failed transfer, every contact going dark, was a nail in his coffin, an echo of the slow, inevitable collapse I’d orchestrated.Diane’s fingers moved with lethal precision across her keyboard, each keystroke sharp and deliberate. The click-clack was a metronome for the chaos we were unleashing. She didn’t bother to meet our gazes, her focus as unshakable as a sniper’s scope.“Second Belluci account just got frozen, twe
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