"Nobody is allowed between these pretty little thighs but me....and if anyone tries...𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦."
~
They call him The King-a ghost who rules the world's most powerful mafia from the shadows. No face. No mercy. No mistakes.
And beside...
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"We have to question everyone at the base," Oscar stated. His voice was low but firm, like he already knew the storm they were about to unleash.
Luca didn't respond at first. His jaw was locked, eyes fixed on the blood that hadn't been scrubbed from the floor yet. The smell of antiseptic couldn't drown out what still clung to the air—violence, betrayal, and something worse. Something personal.
They all knew what Oscar said was true. Every soldier, every medic, every assistant—even the ones with spotless records—would be pulled in. Interrogated. Broken down. Because someone had let this happen. Someone had opened the gates.
And they were going to bleed for it. The survivors were doing well, the soldiers that had been hurt would be questioned but not as suspects but as witnesses.
At least some of the members had to have known what was happening tonight. It was too clean. Too fast. Too invasive. Whoever did this didn't just break in. They were invited.
But what kept clawing at Luca—scraping the inside of his skull raw—was the why.
What did they want?
Who were they working for?
And why go against the King?
The man who kept their streets clean. Who turned their hunger into full stomachs. Who gave their wives jobs and their children future. The man who erased names from blacklists and gave criminals a chance to start over—as long as they swore loyalty.
The King was the one who had saved them.
So what the fuck were they doing turning on him?
Unless...
Unless they weren't turning on him at all.
Luca's eyes narrowed.
There had been a Bratva soldier in the building. One of Alexei's. His face was nearly unrecognizable when they dragged him from the wreckage. Now he was here. Dead. With Kaia's blood under his nails.
So this wasn't just betrayal.
It was a message.
The King had enemies. Everyone knew that. But now, the Bratva was making it clear: they were done hiding.
And the dead Viktor? Alexei, who took his place?
He was making the first move.
Luca's voice cut through the room. Cold. Clipped. Final.
"Pull every recording from the compound's cameras. Even the blind zones."
