All Chapters of THE MAFIA'S CHRONICLES: the Dead wife's revenge. : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Aria stood up swiftly and grabbed the knife, her eyes fixed on Dante’s throat. Everyone at the table jolted up. Dante’s eyes widened as he scrambled back, sending his chair screeching against the floor with force. She lunged at him, eyes narrowed, and swung—aiming straight for his neck.She got him. She felt it. She fell onto the table from the momentum of her swing, landing on the cake with one elbow. Panting softly, her gaze flew to the knife in her hand. It was laced with blood. A soft smile crept onto her lips.Murmurs erupted, cutting through the sudden silence. All eyes turned to the Vallenis table—surprised, confused, and stunned. Aria’s smile widened. Everything slowed down; all noise zoomed out until her own breathing was the only sound left. She stood up firmly, like someone who had just performed her final deed in life.With her face relaxed, she turned slowly. Her eyes scanned the Vallenis family members. They were all staring behind her, at where Dante was. For the first

“Show yourself, or I put a bullet in her head!” he growled.Thunder rumbled through the sky, casting a glistening lightning strike that brightened the surroundings. He held the gun firmly to Aria’s head; he poked to the side, stealing a glance. No one.“If you want to play hero, step out!” he snarled.A deafening thunder crashed. Slow and warm, the sky showered down. Aria held her breath, the cold silencer of the gun firm against her head. Within seconds, they were both soaked. She blinked, still gagged, her gaze sweeping across the darkness. A glimmer of hope shimmered in her eyes; someone was here to save her.Click! He set the trigger. “Don't act smart. Step out!”A masked figure tiptoed to the rear, both hands up high.“Do away with your gun,” the captor commanded. “Slow and gentle.” His arm was wrapped strongly around Aria’s neck.The masked man took one more step forward and began crouching down, slow and steady, one hand still in the air and the other lowering the gun to the fl

Don Vallerio sat down, one leg perfectly over the other, his face emotionless. One elbow propped up on the handle of the cushion, a pen twirling between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the scene transpiring.“So what you mean to tell me now is that the only good news is that you found the dead bodies of three of our men?” Dante snarled and stopped pacing.One of the three men standing, gaze down and face straight, nodded.“It’s almost noon, and still no trace of her?” Dante asked, turning to face them. He shoved both hands into his pockets.One of them spoke, head still down. “Only a trail of blood—”“And?” Dante cut in, brow raised.“It ended on the side of the street leading to Tiber Island,” one of the men disclosed.“So what do you think of that?” Dante took a step closer to him.Gaze still down, the man gulped at Dante’s intimidating proximity. His lips parted slowly. “Maybe wild animals.”Dante blinked, his brow knitting. “Wild animals?”“No, sir. Sorry, sir.”“Take seven more me

The room was still, darkness deep. The only brightness was the monitor screen illuminating the emotionless face of Celestina. She was seated at her desk in a black knee-length attire, legs crossed, red lipstick on, a pair of red heels strapped to her feet.Creak.The hinges of her door sounded.A man walked in.“Ma’am, the Venturi family failed to complete the payment as agreed,” he said, then stood still, hands glued together behind him.Celestina’s hand trailed the rim of the glass cup on her table. Her gaze didn’t leave it. “How many hours late?” she asked, voice steely.“Twenty-four hours, ma.”Her hand halted on the rim of the glass. The wind gushing in from the window shook the red wine slightly. “And the punishment is?”“Blood, ma,” the guard muttered.Her leg dropped to the floor. She stood up, grabbed her red wristwatch. “So do the needful,” she deadpanned, wearing it.The man turned without a word and began walking out.“Wait.” Her voice echoed, firm.The man turned. Seconds

Dante stared down at the wide table. Different types of firearms lay on it—rifles, shotguns, and handguns. He placed down the golden handgun. His eyes swept across the table, back and forth—too many options to test.He picked up a black assault rifle from the table. His eyes flickered to the target.This was his private shooting range. It lay behind his mansion. The grass swayed under the whisper of the wind. The field was vast. Dante’s men were stationed at every corner.“Dante, please… I’m… sorry. It won’t happen again,” a distant voice cried, choking in tears.At the far end, tied to a large target board, was a man—bruised. One eye swollen, lips twice their former size.Dante stepped in and steadied himself. He stood firm, feet planted shoulder-width apart, the rifle braced tight against his shoulder. One eye slightly closed, he aimed at the target board the man was tied to.“Dante, please… please…” Tears rolled down the man’s face.Dante fired.The sound cut through the calm. The