Alle Kapitel von The Mafia Kings Stripper: Kapitel 61 – Kapitel 70

The last day of formal training felt less like an ending and more like a threshold.Alessandro ran me through everything he had built over the previous weeks in one continuous sequence. Fatigue first—stairs until my legs shook. Then the range under low light with mixed magazines and forced movement between cover. Decision drills with two targets and no time to think. A final string fired while my heart rate was still elevated and my hands still carried the tremor of exhaustion. When the last casing hit the floor he stepped in, checked the target, and gave the shortest nod I had ever received from him.“You would not die in the first ten seconds anymore,” he said. “That is the only standard that matters.”I cleared the weapon the way he had taught me and set it down. My shoulders burned. The bruise on my hand had become a permanent dark mark. I felt hollowed out and strangely steady at the same time. Marco, still watching from the back wall, finally spoke.“She’s ready enough.”Alessan

The ride back from the industrial site passed in a silence that felt heavier than the gunfire had.Alessandro’s hand stayed locked around mine the entire way, grip firm enough that I could feel the residual tremor of adrenaline still moving through him. He did not speak. He did not look at me for more than the brief, repeated checks that confirmed I was still upright and uninjured. The convoy cut through the city at speed, streetlights flashing across the interior of the car in hard white intervals. My own pulse had begun to settle, but the metallic taste of fear still sat at the back of my throat.When we reached the house the outer perimeter was already doubled. Men moved with the particular efficiency that followed a night that had gone sideways. Alessandro led me inside without releasing my hand, past Marco and the others, straight up the stairs to the bedroom. Only when the door closed behind us did he finally turn and take my face between his hands.“Show me,” he said.I underst

The quiet from Volkov did not last. It broke on a Thursday night with a coordinated strike against two of the remaining secondary distribution points on the western edge of the city. The attacks were clean, fast, and deliberately timed to overlap so that response teams could not cover both locations at once. By the time Alessandro’s people reached the first site, the product was gone and two men were dead. The second site yielded only burning vehicles and a single surviving guard who died before he could give a full account. Alessandro received the reports in sequence while I sat across from him in the study. I watched the information land and watched him absorb it without visible reaction beyond the slight narrowing of his eyes. When the second call ended he set the phone down and looked at the map still spread across the table. “He is no longer testing for soft points,” he said. “He is removing capacity. That means he believes he has enough residual strength to force a harder n

The message came through one of the secondary channels Alessandro still kept open for residual contacts from my old life. It was short. No greeting. No explanation. Just a time, a location on the outer edge of the city, and a single line that made my stomach drop. I know what you are now. We need to talk before it’s too late. Sarah. I stared at the screen longer than I should have. The war had consumed so much of the recent weeks that the people I had left behind had become almost theoretical. Ben was still under quiet protection. My mother’s medical bills continued to be handled without my involvement. But Sarah had been different. She had been the last person who had known me before the club, before Alessandro, before the version of myself that could track an operation and still sleep afterward. Seeing her name again felt like a door opening onto a room I had already sealed. Alessandro read the message over my shoulder. His expression did not change. “You will not go alon

The trap was sprung just after two in the morning.Alessandro had left the house with a small team to handle what intelligence had flagged as a quiet secondary meeting between two of Volkov’s remaining mid-level operators. The location was an old storage facility near the docks—low profile, limited approaches, the kind of place that should have been simple to contain. I stayed behind in the study with the radio and the live board, the same position I had held during the river and north-side operations. Marco remained in the main room. The outer perimeter held its usual night rotation.For the first twenty minutes the net stayed clean. Teams in position. Outer watchers confirmed. Approach corridors quiet. Then the tone of the reports changed.A second set of vehicles appeared on the access road that should have been empty. Then a third. By the time the first gunfire cracked across the radio, it was already clear that the meeting had never been the real target. The entire site was a kil