All Chapters of The Mafia Who Bought Me : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Everything fell apart all at once, like the whole world decided to come crashing down on us right then. The place turned into this blur of flashing lights and loud, awful noise — gunshots popping off, people yelling over each other, boots stomping hard on the floors. It no longer felt like Dante’s usual tight control. This was a messy, ugly chaos. Dante yanked me into the next hallway, his hand locked around my wrist so tight I could feel his pulse hammering. He wasn’t letting go, not even for a breath, like losing me would end everything for him. His steps were fast and jerky now. He already knew the building had slipped from our hands. “They’re splitting up,” he muttered. “Cutting us off, blocking every exit.” I didn’t bother asking how he knew all that. I could feel it in my bones too — the sounds closing in on us in a smart, planned way, like a noose pulling tight. “They’re not here just to trash the place,” I said, breathing hard. “It feels like they’re after something speci

Dante POV The glass didn’t just shatter, it exploded against the wall like it had something personal to prove, shards flying everywhere across the floor in sharp, angry pieces that caught the light for a second before they hit the ground and scattered into nothing. Nobody moved. If anyone had opened their mouth right then, I wasn’t going to stop at glass, not with the way my blood was boiling hot in my veins and my arm was screaming from the bullet wound that still burned deep under the soaked bandage like it wanted to tear itself open again. My hand was bleeding again too, the fabric dark and sticky, but the pain barely registered compared to the bigger hole tearing through my chest. I felt like something vital had been ripped out of my hands and I was still standing here, bleeding and useless, trying to hold everything together with nothing left but rage and regret. “She doesn’t just disappear,” I said, pacing once, then again, my boots hitting the floor harder than nece

Dante POV The silence in my office didn’t feel like peace. It felt like the split second before a building collapses. I was still staring at the black screen of the tablet, my mind stuck on her words. Sanity. She wanted my sanity. Looking at the blood dripping from my bandaged arm onto the desk, I figured she was halfway there already. Then the noise started. Not a hit. No gunshots. Just a faint sound from the floors down. It spread through the building like a fever, low at first, then growing. “No way...” “Is that—?” “It’s a ghost. Tell me that’s a ghost.” I stood up. My chair scraped across the floor, a harsh sound that made my teeth clench. I walked toward the door, my heart slamming against my ribs like something trapped trying to get out. I stepped into the hallway, and everything just… stopped. My guards were standing like statues. Luca was ten feet ahead of me, his body coiled tight, his face gone a sickly shade of grey. “What are you doing here?” Luca asked with an

Dante POV The map didn’t change no matter how long I stared at it. Lines, angles, entry points, exit routes, everything looked clean and perfect on paper, but I knew better. Nothing was ever that clean when Isabella was involved. I kept seeing her face in the hallway, that calm smile like she already knew how this night was going to end. “She’s not going to be where we expect,” I said. No one argued, and that was good. Because if anyone in this room still thought this was a normal rescue mission, they hadn’t been paying attention. They didn’t know her like I did. “Then we hit fast,” Luca said, his finger tapping the lower corridor on the warehouse blueprints. “No hesitation. No warning. We go in hard and we get her out.” “She’ll already be moving,” I muttered. I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me — the exhaustion, the guilt, the anger I couldn’t shake. Every second Elena was gone felt like another piece of me being carved away. Luca looked up. “You think sh

Dante POV “Move.” The door didn’t open fast enough. I kicked it in. Wood cracked, hinges snapped, and the sound echoed too loud down the corridor. I didn’t slow down, my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to punch its way out of my chest. “Clear left!” “Right’s open!” Boots hit concrete. Guns came up. Shadows moved fast all around us, but the place felt too empty, too quiet. The cold air hit me as soon as we pushed deeper, and I already knew before the lights even swept the corners properly. “She’s not here,” Luca muttered somewhere behind me. “I didn’t say stop,” I replied, voice tight. We kept pushing through room after room, and every single one was empty. This looked too clean. It didn’t smell like a struggle or fear. It just smelled like a kind of careful planning that made my stomach turn. She had walked out of here like she had all the time in the world. “This is wrong,” one of my men said. “No,” I said. “This is her.” This wasn’t some panicked r