《The Mafia Boss Is After My Life》全部章節：第 121 章 - 第 130 章

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Emily said, shoving Stella aside as she pushed her way into the mansion. The moment she stepped into the living room, she froze. Richard was sitting on the couch, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. A bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table alongside a spread of snacks, two glasses of champagne, and a bottle of orange juice. The whole scene looked cozy, like something out of a life Emily used to believe was hers. Richard's face went pale the moment he saw her standing in the doorway. Shock washed over him, his mouth falling open, no words coming out. Behind Emily, Captain Miller and Nana stood frozen in the entryway, taking in the scene. "Explain," Emily said, her voice deadly calm in a way that was somehow more terrifying than if she'd screamed. "Now." Richard scrambled up from the couch and immediately dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands clasped together like he was praying. "Emily, please, I, Stella seduced me," he

Derick sat in his car on the side of the road for only a few seconds before he dialed Captain Miller."Miller," the captain answered on the second ring."It's Derick," he said, forcing his voice to stay level despite the frustration boiling under his skin. "I had a lock on Jems' phone. I was tracking it live, following the signal in real time.""And?" Miller's voice sharpened immediately."They found the phone," Derick said. "Emily called it, more than once, and it must have drawn attention. One of Don Emilio's men picked it up, and then the signal died. I think they destroyed it."There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line."Give me the exact location," Miller said, "the last place you had a signal before it went dark. Down to the street if you can."Derick pulled up the tracking app again, zooming in on the frozen dot that marked the phone's final location before it disappeared."It was on the east side," Derick said, reading off the cross streets. "Near the old warehouse

Emily hadn't stopped moving in over an hour.She paced the length of the living room over and over, her bare feet worn raw against the hardwood floor, her arms wrapped so tightly around herself it looked like she was trying to hold her own body together by force. Every few minutes, she'd stop near the window, peer out at nothing, then start pacing again.Nana sat on the couch, watching her, saying nothing because there was nothing left to say. She'd already tried every comforting word she knew. Now all she could do was stay close, and let Emily wear a track into the floor if that's what she needed."Why hasn't he called," Emily muttered under her breath. "Why hasn't Miller called? It's been hours. It's been hours, Nana.""He'll call the moment there's something to tell you," Nana said softly. "No news might be good news right now.""Don't," Emily said sharply, whirling around. "Don't say that. Don't tell me no news is good news when my daughter is..." Her voice broke apart entirely, a

The door swung open. Two guards inside spun toward them, weapons already rising, but Diego was faster. He put two rounds into the first man's chest before he could even pull the trigger, the suppressed shots barely louder than a cough. The second guard managed to get one shot off, wild and high, embedding in the ceiling, before Marcus dropped him with a clean headshot. "MOVE!" Marcus barked, all pretense of stealth gone now. The gunshot would have carried. They burst deeper into the basement level, and that was when the real chaos erupted. Shouts echoed from multiple directions, along with footsteps pounding down the staircase behind them. A door slammed open somewhere to their left, and three armed men poured out, opening fire the moment they spotted the intruders. Ethan dove behind a support pillar as bullets chewed into the stone beside his head, chips of rock stinging his cheek. He brought the PSS up and fired twice, catching one man in the shoulder and sending him spinning in

The mansion had gone eerily quiet compared to the chaos of twenty minutes earlier. Officers moved through every room in organized teams now, zip-tying the last of Don Emilio's surviving men and marching them out through the shattered front gates in a long, defeated line, hands bound, heads down, the swagger completely gone from every single one of them. Others worked through the upstairs office and adjoining rooms, boxing up file cabinets, hard drives, ledgers, burner phones, and anything else that could be logged as evidence. Years of Don Emilio's empire were reduced to cardboard boxes, carried out one by one like furniture from a foreclosed house. But Captain Miller wasn't watching any of that. He stood in the doorway of the empty office, staring at the shattered glass on the desk, at the drying blood mixed with spilled whisky pooling across the mahogany, and at the back door hanging open onto the private garage beyond. Empty. His jaw tightened so hard it ached. "He's gone," Mil