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178 Capítulos

THIRTY-ONE

The storm hit before Elena even saw it coming.She had barely unpinned her hair for the night when the door to her room burst open with a deafening crash, slamming against the wall with enough force to shake the paintings hanging beside it. Jeremy stood in the doorway, his broad frame outlined against the dim light of the hallway, his entire body radiating a level of rage so intense that the air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing against Elena’s chest like an invisible weight.His fists were clenched at his sides, his breathing deep and uneven, his pupils blown wide with barely contained fury. There was something terrifying about him like this—not just because he was angry, but because he was a man who rarely let his anger show in such a raw, unfiltered way.Jeremy Cali was a man of control. A man who calculated, who planned, who executed with precision.And what Jeremiah and Elena had done?Sloppy. Reckless. A disgrace to everything he had built.Killing Salvora in the middle of

THIRTY-TWO

Father Bernard had not always been a priest.Once, a long time ago, before he wore the cassock, before the weight of secrets pressed heavily on his shoulders, and he sat in rooms filled with men who made their fortunes in blood, he had been a boy who believed that the world could be something better than it was.He had believed, with the unshaken faith of a child, that life did not have to be ruled by violence, by greed, by power struggles that left nothing but graves and grief in their wake.But that had been a different lifetime, a different world.He had grown up in the southern regions of Italy, in a small town called Tremezzo where the days were quiet and slow, where the mornings were filled with the ringing of church bells. There, the scent of burning incense drifted through the streets every Sunday. Faith had not just been a belief there—it had been a way of life, a force that demanded devotion, discipline, and sacrifice.His mother, a woman of unwavering faith, had always tol

THIRTY-THREE

The morning light streamed in through the tall arched windows of Mama Cali’s private quarters, casting a warm glow over the lace curtains and expensive ivory furnishings that filled the space.For the first time since her arrival, Elena had been summoned here. She had expected the room to be darker, heavier, suffocatingly rich in history, perhaps decorated with grand oil portraits of dead Mafia kings including Don Cali, or symbols of power that reminded everyone who walked through the door that this woman—this matriarch—had ruled long before Jeremy had ever risen to his throne.Instead, it was soft, filled with ivory-colored furniture, shelves lined with books bound in aging leather, a crystal chandelier hanging above a seating area where a silver tea set gleamed under the morning sun, and a delicate perfume that lingered in the air, something floral but mature, sophisticated, commanding without being overwhelming.And there, in the center of it all, sat Mama Cali, her imposing presen

THIRTY-FOUR

The prison gates loomed in front of him, the heavy steel doors groaning as they slid open, the sharp metallic scrape cutting through the cold morning air like a blade against bone, a sound he had thought he would never hear again in his lifetime.Michele Millicent stood motionless for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the brightness of the outside world, the vast open space stretching before him in stark contrast to the suffocating walls he had been confined within for over fifteen years.He had walked into that place a demon and had emerged with the same fire in his veins, the same hunger in his bones, the same dark, insatiable thirst for chaos that had carried him through a lifetime of war and violence long before those prison doors had ever locked behind him.A slow smirk crept onto his lips as he took his first step forward, his boots hitting the pavement with the confidence of a man who had never once feared the world he had left behind, his fingers twitching at his sides as if the

THIRTY-FIVE

The tension in the Cali estate had always been thick, but ever since that night—the night Elena had blackmailed Jeremiah, the night he had read the letter that exposed the ugliest truths of both their pasts—it had become suffocating.They had not spoken since.Not in passing. Not during meals. Not even when Jeremy was in the room, which was the real problem, because Jeremy was a man who noticed everything.And if he hadn’t asked yet? It was because he was waiting.Watching.Elena had learned by now that Jeremy Cali never asked questions he didn’t already have answers to.And that was dangerous.*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***It was a quiet afternoon when the surprise visitor arrived, the kind of day where the sun was warm but not overbearing, the gardens outside well-tended, the faint scent of jasmine in the air as the household staff moved seamlessly through their duties.Elena had been in the library, trying to disappear behind a book, when a maid entered with a wary expres

THIRTY-SIX

The air in Russia always felt tense. Michele hated it here. Had only come here thrice for business purposes. Although, pleasure always capped every business dealing.Michele Millicent, newly freed, newly emboldened, was already setting fire to everything in his path.The club was buried deep in the heart of the city, a place that required no signs, no advertisements, no formal invitations—only a name spoken to the right people in the right circles, a transaction made in silence, a door opened to those who understood that money and violence were the only currencies that truly mattered.It was here, in a back room thick with cigar smoke and expensive liquor, that Michele sat across from Travanto Petrovich, the devil with ice-blue eyes and a mouth that spoke only in threats and promises. He had returned back to Russia last night to tie up some lose ends before heading back to Italy where his war with Cali awaited.Travanto poured himself a drink, the golden liquid swirling in his glass,

THIRTY-SEVEN

Chapter 37The deal had been risky, the kind of investment that could have gone horribly wrong had it been left in the hands of someone with lesser instincts, lesser foresight, lesser intelligence—but Elena had seen it for what it was, an opportunity disguised as uncertainty, a gamble that only those with a mind for both numbers and power could recognize and execute with precision.And now, sitting at the head of the long mahogany conference table, surrounded by Jeremy’s top executives, men and women who had spent years proving themselves in the Cali family’s legitimate empire, she watched as the numbers came in, as the screen at the front of the boardroom lit up with projections that confirmed what she had already known.The Cali Solar Corporation had just dominated the Eastern European market.And it had been her idea.Jeremy, seated beside her in his custom navy suit, his wrist adorned with a Patek Philippe watch worth more than most people’s entire careers, tapped his fingers lazi

THIRTY-EIGHT

The discovery had come as a shock, not because Elena had never considered the possibility, but because it had never seemed real—not until now, not until the unmistakable confirmation from the doctor, not until the weight of it settled deep into her bones, a mixture of exhilaration and panic wrapping around her like towel after a cold bath on a freezing morning.Jeremy had been away at a business meeting when she had taken the test, his absence both a relief and a torment, giving her time to process the reality that she was now carrying the child of one of the most powerful and dangerous men in the world.By the time he returned to the estate that evening, Elena had paced the length of their bedroom at least a dozen times, rehearsing the words over and over, trying to decide if this was a confession, an announcement, or a complication that neither of them had expected.But all of that disappeared the moment he walked through the door.She had barely spoken the words, her voice tremblin

THIRTY-NINE

The air in Zanzibar was thick with heat, the scent of saltwater and exotic spices lingering beneath the far more insidious aroma of money, corruption, and impending bloodshed.The auction was being held in a private estate, perched on the cliffs overlooking the Indian Ocean, a palace of marble and gold that had been carefully designed for men who measured their power in wealth and violence.Inside, the room was packed with the most dangerous criminals in the world—men and women who ruled the drug trade in South America, arms dealers from Eastern Europe, human traffickers from the Middle East, corrupt politicians from Africa, and a handful of powerful ex-military figures who had long since abandoned any loyalty to their nations in favor of the highest bidder.The auction wasn’t just about selling women, illegal goods, weapons, or information. It was about power plays, about forming alliances in the shadows, about reminding the world’s most dangerous men and women who truly ran the unde

FORTY

The scent of gunpowder and blood was everywhere. It clung to the air, thick and suffocating, mingling with the acrid stench of burning wood, broken bodies, and the remnants of a war that had erupted in seconds.What had begun as a stage for the most powerful criminals in the world had now become a battlefield, a slaughterhouse, the golden chandeliers that once illuminated the wealth of the underworld now laying shattered on the blood-soaked floor.And in the midst of the chaos, Agent Wexler lay dying.She was on her back, her breathing shallow, her hands pressing weakly against the gaping wound in her neck, where a bullet had ripped through flesh, severing everything in its path. Blood pulsed between her fingers, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her as her life drained onto the cold marble.It had happened in an instant.Jeremy had been running, his vision blurred by pain, by adrenaline, by the desperate need to escape. His thigh was burning, his entire right leg feeling like it was o

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