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THE CHUBBY WAITRESS FOUND MAFIA BOSS’S SISTER DYING BEHIND A LOCKED DOOR / Chapter 4 / 6

Chapter 4 - Playing the Mafia Game

The waitress becomes the queen when the king is bleeding out on the floor.Dimas collapsed to the ground, clutching his broken jaw, howling in agony.

Nora didn't stop. She scrambled out from under the desk, grabbed Dimas's dropped gold-plated revolver, and pointed it at him with both hands, her body shaking so violently the barrel danced in the air.

"Don't move!" she screamed. "Don't you dare move!"

Adrian groaned, holding his bleeding shoulder, but a dark, amused smile crossed his lips as he looked at her. "Not bad, Callahan. Maybe you chose the wrong profession."

He stood up painfully, walking over to Dimas, who was spitting out blood and teeth. Adrian didn't hesitate; he brought the heel of his boot down onto Dimas’s hand, crushing his fingers against the concrete.

"Where is the Volkov main shipment coming in tonight?" Adrian asked calmly. "Tell me, or I let Nora practice her father's surgical skills on your legs."

Dimas whimpered, his bravado entirely gone. "The pier... Pier 42. Midnight. They're bringing in the weapon caches. The whole Bratva council will be there. They think you're dead, Adrian! They think Lena is dead!"

"Good," Adrian said. He turned to Nora. "Can you drive?"

"Yes," Nora said, her voice stabilizing. "But what about Lena? She can't be moved!"

"She'll stay here. The safehouse is locked down now, and the remaining guards are mine," Adrian said, pulling a radio from one of the fallen men. He spoke a brief command into it, and within minutes, two heavily armed men loyal to him entered the basement to secure the room and tend to Lena.

Adrian looked at Nora, his eyes scanning her tear-stained, blood-splattered face. "The Volkovs know who you are now, Nora. Even if you walk away, they will hunt you down to eliminate the witness. The only way you survive tonight is if we eliminate them first."

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The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure terminal on my desk flashed a violent crimson. I hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, my eyes burning from staring at columns of ghost figures, duplicate invoices, and shell corporations linked to Dominic Rossi. But the red alert wasn’t from Rossi’s faction. It was an internal security flag originating from the estate’s main vault deep beneath the west wing.

The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure ter...

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scattering the light from the chandeliers. The muffled laughter died instantly, replaced by a suffocating, heavy silence that crept outward from the grand staircase.

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scatter...

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking out the clinical, terrifying silence of the kitchen. Evelyn Crane stood stiffly in front of my mahogany desk, her hands folded over her apron with the rigid precision of someone who had spent decades micromanaging every square inch of my estate. Behind her, Norah hovered near the doorway, clutching her clipboard like a shield.

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking...

"What do you want me to do?" Nora asked, the sheer absurdity of her situation fading into a cold, hard survival instinct.

"We are going to Pier 42," Adrian said, tossing her a heavy black leather jacket to cover her ruined uniform. "You are going to act as my driver, and when the time comes, you are going to show them exactly what happens when you push a Callahan into a corner."

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