Todos los capítulos de The Don's Secret Heir: Capítulo 151 - Capítulo 160

POV: ValentinaThe white marble basin of the central fountain looked like a bloody altar under the floodlights.Charles sat on the lower stone step, his head bent between his knees while Luca applied a pressure bandage to his torn scalp. Blood soaked through the shoulder of Charles's coat, dripping rhythmically onto the damp cobblestones."Four men," Charles gasped, his voice raspy and choked with red. "Blacked-out Mercedes vans... foreign accents. Russian or Serbian. They didn't want the gate, Vale... they came over the west wall while the shift rotated. Sofia... she drew them off toward the fountain so Matteo and I could reach the interior doors."He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an agonizing, raw guilt. "I tried to hold the gate, Vale. I swear to God I tried. But one of them hit me with an iron bar, and as they dragged her into the van, the driver looked right at me and said... 'Viktor sends his regards.'"My hands went completely numb. The cold Florentine air

POV: ValentinaThe crackle of the old industrial loudspeaker cut through the freezing wind like a rusted saw blade, bouncing off the sheer limestone walls of the pit."Your mother begged for your life, you know," Dante’s voice boomed, heavy with a theatrical, sickening nostalgia. He stood thirty yards away, his silver hair slicked back against the pale gray dawn, one leather-gloved hand resting on Sofia’s shoulder. "May 1996. Elena stood right where you are standing now, Donna Valentina. She begged me to spare the baby in her belly. And do you know what I told her?"The white dust swirled around my boots. My hands rested in the pockets of my dark coat, my right fingers wrapped tight around the cold grip of my suppressed Beretta. Every instinct in my body screamed to draw and fire, but my eyes remained locked on Sofia’s split lip and terrified eyes."You told her whatever a coward says before he murders a woman in the dark," I called out, my voice clear and steady, carrying across the

POV: MarcoThe early morning dampness clung to the cypress trees in the lower garden, wrapping the stone arches of the loggia in a cold, grey shroud.Dante Sartori stood near the ancient marble sundial, wearing a dark wool coat, taking a slow draw from a thin cigar. The smoke rose into the autumn air, white and fragrant with dark tobacco.I stepped out from the shadow of the hedge, my boots heavy against the wet gravel, my hand resting near the butt of my sidearm."You spared my wife's mother thirty years ago," I said, my voice dropping into a flat, dangerous pitch that echoed off the stone wall. "Why do you want a throne you never earned?"Dante turned slowly, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. He looked at me with those dark, unreadable eyes—the eyes I saw every morning in the mirror—his weathered face breaking into a dry, melancholic smile."Earned, Marco?" Dante murmured, flicking a stray ash onto the grass. "I spent years in t

POV: MarcoThe smell of burning rubber and high-caliber cordite hung thick over the rain-slicked asphalt of the A1 highway.The federal transport van rested on its side against the concrete divider, its rear doors blown outward by a shaped thermite charge. Sirens howled in the distance, but in the immediate darkness of the highway shoulder, the only sound was the heavy pelting of rain against metal.A blacked-out Volvo station wagon pulled to a halt four inches from the wreckage, its rear passenger door sliding open with a low, hydraulic hiss."Get in, marco," a familiar, razor-sharp voice echoed from the shadowed interior. "Your wife is about to be blamed for a murder."I wiped a streak of blood from my forehead, my eyes narrowing as I looked into the cabin.Sitting in the leather seat, wearing a tailored navy coat and a dark silk headscarf, was Carmela. She looked entirely composed, completely unbothered by her weeks of forced exile in the Calabrian hills. Beside her sat two heavily

POV: ValentinaThe pitch-black darkness of the master corridor hit like a physical wall.I was moving before my eyes could even adjust to the void, racking the slide of my Beretta as the distant, muted chatter of automatic gunfire erupted from the lower courtyard."Valentina!" Luca’s voice crackled through my earpiece, frantic, buried under heavy static. "Generators were severed at the main transformer! They're inside the east wing! Take the boy to the passage!""Deborah's passage?" I demanded into the mic, pressing my back against the cold stone wall, my heart hammering against my ribs."It's the only one they don't know!" Luca shouted back over a burst of suppressive fire. "Renzo is holding the grand staircase, but they brought heavy breaching charges! Go!"I sprinted blindly into the adjoining nursery suite. Sofia was already on her feet, holding a tactical flashlight in one hand and shielding Matteo behind her back. Matteo didn't make a sound; his eyes were wide, his small hands c