All Chapters of THE MAFIA'S PRICE: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

He leaned back in the chair, watching me with lazy amusement as I licked the cone. “You’re making that look obscene.” I grinned around a mouthful. “It’s delicious.”He didn’t answer, just kept staring, eyes tracing my lips, my throat, the way my tongue darted out to catch a melting drip.His phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening for half a second. “I need to take this. Business.”I nodded, licking another swirl of ice cream. “Go. I’ll be right here.”He stood, leaned down, and kissed me slowly, deliberately tasting the mint and the faint sweetness he’d stolen from my cone earlier. “I’ll be back soon.”Then he stepped outside, broad shoulders disappearing around the corner into the gathering dusk. I watched him go, heart full, stomach fluttering with nerves and something dangerously close to joy, licked another swirl of sesame and smiled to myself.Two more days of this, of us, of Tokyo, of stolen moments before everything changed. I couldn’t wait to see h

Alexei Volkov stood in the exact center of the open space, leaning heavily on custom black forearm crutches. The right leg of his tailored trousers was pinned neatly above the knee; the left ended in a gleaming carbon-fiber prosthetic that clicked faintly every time he shifted weight. His lips curled in a rictus of anger as he reached the center of the warehouse. Two containers stood open in front of him. Inside the first: ceramic-composite body armor plates still in their factory wrapping. Inside the second: the micro-drone guidance modules, matte black, sleek, each one worth more than most men made in a decade. The rest of the haul, conflict diamonds reset into antique settings, waited in padded cases on a stainless-steel workbench to his left.They were stolen from Moretti's fleet, intercepted on the docks, and now here they were-Dante's property turned into a symbol of his vengeance. "He thinks he's ruined me," Alexei muttered to the half-dozen men remaining in his command, his voi

I turned and sprinted up the stairs two at a time, bullets chewing the steps behind me. I slammed into the study, fingers flying over the hidden panel beside the mirror. The mechanism clicked. The mirror swung open on silent hinges, revealing the reinforced safe room.I dove inside.The door sealed behind me with a heavy, final thunk. I slammed the manual lock into place. Even if someone found the panel outside, they’d never get in without the override code only Dante and I knew.The room was small but stocked: racks of weapons along one wall, a mini-fridge, a narrow bed, a couch, and three large monitors showing live feeds from every camera on the property.I dropped into the chair, hands shaking as I widened the exterior view.The living room was a massacre.Dante’s men lay dead or dying on the blood-slick floor. The survivors were being executed where they stood.And Dante…Two men had him pinned, arms wrenched behind his back. He was still fighting, headbutting one, kneeing the ot

Dante POVThe first thing I registered was the taste of blood, copper and salt coating my tongue, thick enough to choke on. My head throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh spikes of pain through my skull. I tried to move, to sit up, and discovered my wrists were zip-tied behind my back, the plastic cutting deep enough that I felt warm trickles running down my forearms.I was on my knees.Cold concrete under me. Knees already numb. The position was deliberate, humiliating, exposed. Classic Alexei.I forced my eyes open.Dim overhead bulb swinging from a frayed cord, concrete walls, no windows. A single metal door with a small reinforced glass panel. The room smelled of rust, old motor oil, and the faint sour tang of fear-sweat that wasn’t mine yet.Footsteps approached from the other side of the door, heavy, uneven. One leg dragging slightly, prosthetic clicking against the floor. I knew that rhythm.The door opened.Alexei stepped inside.He looked almost the same, tal

The first thing I registered when consciousness clawed its way back was the smell of stale cigarette smoke mixed with expensive cologne and something metallic underneath. Blood. My blood? Someone else’s?My eyelids felt glued shut. I forced them open.Alexei Ivanov’s face hovered inches above mine.He was grinning wide, triumphant, teeth flashing in the dim overhead light. His hand came down in three sharp claps right beside my ear.“Finally,” he said, voice dripping mock delight. “You’re awake, princessa.”I jerked upright, or tried to. My wrists were free, ankles unbound. I was sitting in a hard wooden chair in the middle of a concrete room. No ropes, no cuffs bound to my leg nor hands. My gaze darted around. Bare walls. Single bulb swinging from a cord. Metal door with a small window. And at the far end of the room…Dante.He sat slumped against the wall, wrists zip-tied in front of him, blood crusted at the corner of his mouth, one eye swollen almost shut. But his gaze was lock