All Chapters of Mafia Tech Bro: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

CHRISTOFThe Vanes had multiple safehouses across the city. Instead of using one continuously, they assign a safehouse for active use; meetings, holding hostages, sensitive work. They use it for a fixed period of six weeks, then abandon it temporarily, shifting operations to another property.The previous location gets cleaned, left unused, or repurposed. They did this to prevent patterns from forming, and to reduce risk of surveillance. It took me less than two days to track down their active safehouse.The building sat behind a high wall, finished in rough stone, the kind that scraped skin if you brushed against it carelessly. Motion lights lined the perimeter, wired to trigger in sequence instead of all at once, a detail meant to suggest thought, not wealth. The gate was reinforced steel, painted over twice.I stepped out of the car immediately I killed the engine. There was no need to survey, Huncho was already inside. He preferred to arrive ahead of me where violence was invol

TANISHAI’d successfully gone through the day without incident. Most of the office had thinned out. Conversations were shorter, footsteps less frequent. I was seated at my desk, going through some documents again when the reception line lit up.I stared at it and sighed before answering.“Yes?”“Ms. Tanisha,” the receptionist spoke, “ there’s a Roman Thorn here to see Mr. Gustavo.”My body immediately reacted. My back straightened swiftly, the chair shifting slightly beneath me. My hand slipped against the edge of the desk and I had to steady it, pressing my fingers flat against the surface.Roman. Here? Now? Why?I forced my expression back into place, even though no one could see me.“Does he have an appointment?” I asked.There was a pause. “No, ma’am.”Of course not. I would have known.I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them again. “Put him on hold.”I ended the call and sat there for a minute, just staring into space. Roman being here didn’t feel random.I pushed my chair bac

TANISHAEverything sounded too loud. The ticking of the clock, the faint hum of the air system. The occasional movement from somewhere down the hall that didn’t concern me but still managed to reach me anyway.Roman had been in Christof’s office for exactly fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes which had nothing to do with me. Or so I hoped. I absentmindedly moved the cursor up and down the page on my computer. Christof’s office loomed behind me, it was eerily quiet. Sound barely escaped the room. Except when it was overly loud. Christof and Roman weren’t men who spoke in loud voices— their words were deliberate and measured, each one holding a weight that seemed to linger in the air long after it was spoken.I adjusted my posture, rolling my shoulders back slightly and placing both hands on the desk, palms flat for a second before I eased them back onto the keyboard.I clicked into another tab and read the first line. Immediately forgot it. I inhaled slowly, held it for a second, then le

CHRISTOFI had not been on a track in six months. I hadn’t done any of the things I enjoyed in a while.Access wasn’t an issue. The circuit maintained a standing arrangement under a name that wasn’t mine, a private allocation that required no scheduling, no negotiation. If I showed up, I drove.My Ferrari Roma tracked perfectly through the final stretch leading into the facility. Its twin-turbo V8 was a muffled, civil hum behind the soundproof glass. The gates recognized my transponder before I reached them. No delay, no security check-in. As expected.I drove straight into the private pit lane and pulled into the garage assigned to me. The space was enclosed, removed from the main paddock, shielded from the gaze of the weekend enthusiasts.The engine stilled.For a moment, I remained behind the wheel, hands resting lightly on the Italian leather, my gaze fixed on the concrete wall. Then I stepped out.Inside the garage, everything was already in place.The racing suit—fireproof, matt

TANISHARoman’s car was idling when I stepped out of the building. It wasn’t the same car as yesterday.This was low, dark, and silent. A Porsche. It seemed like a car for someone who preferred to move through the world without a soundtrack. I slid into the passenger seat, the smell of expensive leather and cold air hitting me immediately.He was behind the wheel like yesterday. No driver.I watched his profile, unable to promptly peel my eyes away. He looked striking. I’d only seen him in suits, but this was different—the leather pants, the black knit sweater, and that heavy, oversized charcoal plaid coat. It was a complete departure from what I was used to. I have to admit, he really was an attractive man.“Hi,” I said, looking away.Roman didn't just glance at me, he looked. It was a slow, steady sweep that felt entirely too intrusive. “You look good,” he said.It sounded more like he was stating a fact, rather than giving a compliment. I wasn’t sure how to respond.“…Thank you?”