Semua Bab Mafia Deity: Bab 1 - Bab 7

The man knelt in the middle of the chapel, blindfolded, his lips quivering against the cold marble floor. His hands were bound behind him, and his wrists were raw from struggling. A streak of ash marked his cheek like a warrior’s paint. Candles flickered along the altar in haphazard rows, casting long, dancing shadows that played on the stained glass windows. Above him, the painted Christ seemed to bleed into the heavens, his eyes wide open and watching."Forgive me," the man murmured, addressing no one in particular. "Please."Alessandro Moretti stood next to the altar, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. He wore the same black attire his father always chose for executions. He hadn’t uttered a word. He rarely needed to. In this place, silence felt like a punishment all on its own.The air was heavy with the scent of incense and decay, the kind that clung to wood that once heard confessions but now only echoed with the dead.Behind Alessandro, Giovanni sat in the front pew, a fi

The Moretti estate was a labyrinth of secrets, buried deep like rot within a corpse. Alessandro had spent his entire life there, yet he still hadn’t uncovered all its hidden doors.But he certainly knew about the ones that were locked, carefully guarded.As the clock struck midnight, he slipped through the east wing. The house was eerily silent, save for the occasional creak of settling stone or the whisper of the wind against the stained glass. This wing had once been a welcoming space for guests, but now it served as Giovanni’s personal archive—a museum of history, stories, and, more recently, blood.Alessandro approached the door to the records room. It boasted a brass lock and was crafted from heavy wood. A small camera perched above the frame, watching. He hesitated for a moment, then reached into his coat and pulled out the key.His father was unaware he had it. Or perhaps he wasn’t. With Giovanni, permission was often a silent agreement, always with strings attached.The door c

Alessandro woke up before the guards switched shifts. He found himself back in his quarters, though sleep had only come in bits and pieces. Adrianna’s voice echoed in his mind—sharp, soft, and defiant. The memory of her hand brushing against his, even if just for a moment, haunted him like nothing else ever had. He dressed quickly, opting for a black top, gloves, and a cloak of silence instead of a suit. If he was going to help her escape, he had to tread carefully. Every hallway had eyes, and every shadow belonged to his father. He carried two things with him,a key and a lie he hadn’t yet admitted to himself.Adrianna hadn’t slept at all. The room lacked a clock, but her body kept track of the hours anyway; each one felt like an eternity. She replayed Alessandro’s words in her mind. You’re the last offering. She didn’t want to accept it, but something deep within her already did. Still, when he showed up that morning, she stood tall, her back straight and chin held high.“You’re earl

The ritual kicked off before anyone even stirred.It all began with a shift in the atmosphere.The heavy scent of burning myrrh wafted into the cellar, thick and suffocating. Adrianna opened her eyes, instantly recognizing it. Her head spun, and the walls felt like they were stretching away, as if the room had grown overnight.Alessandro was already awake, pacing back and forth. He hadn’t slept a wink. His skin appeared pale, and his eyes were darker than usual.“I think it has started,” he said.Adrianna nodded in agreement. “I feel it too.”There was a strange hum in the walls, not quite a sound but more like a pressure. It felt as if the house was eavesdropping.Upstairs, the estate had taken on a different look.The chandeliers dripped wax like blood. Every portrait was draped in black silk. The grand dining hall, once opulent, had been stripped bare and transformed into a sanctum. The priestess glided through it barefoot, her steps silent on the marble floor.Giovanni stood in th