All Chapters of From Street Rat To Mafia Boss : Chapter 371
- Chapter 380
383 chapters
Calculated Victory
The room smelled of sweat, iron, and the faint sting of blood. Dane’s chest rose and fell like a piston, every breath a victory against the weight of exhaustion dragging at his muscles. His knuckles were raw. His heartbeat still rattled like a drum in his ears. The huge man lay sprawled on the floor, motionless except for the faint twitch of his fingers. His once-threatening frame now looked small, almost human, flattened against the polished concrete.Dane’s vision flickered between clarity and haze. He had won. Against all odds — against the bulk, the speed, and the rage of his opponent — he had stood his ground and emerged the last one standing. For a moment, he didn’t trust the stillness. He stayed crouched low, watching the man’s chest, waiting for it to rise in another surge of violence. Nothing. Just the ragged rasp of air wheezing through a broken nose.He straightened slowly, his spine protesting with every inch, and drew a long breath. “I… I did it,” he murmured under his br
Surrounded
Dane picked up his gun, his knuckles white around the grip. His breathing was heavy, but steady — controlled, even though his heart was pounding from the fight that had just ended. The room felt heavier now, as if the air itself was pressing down on him. He could almost hear the silence, interrupted only by the faint hum of a CCTV camera still watching from the corner of the ceiling.Then, movement.From the side corridor, four women emerged, stepping out with a grace that instantly set Dane on edge. They were tall, composed, their faces mostly hidden under low hoods, but their posture screamed discipline. They didn’t move like civilians. They moved like people trained to handle situations exactly like this.The one in front raised her arm, palm facing Dane. The gesture was calm but absolute. “Stop,” she said evenly, her voice steady, almost cold. “One step forward. No need to be aggressive. The boss has agreed to finally meet you.”Dane’s instincts screamed not to trust her. His eyes
Heads or Tails
Everyone was quiet.The silence inside that grand hall became unbearable, pressing against Dane’s ears until it almost felt like a roar. Dozens of eyes remained locked on him, but no one moved. No one dared to breathe too loudly. The air itself seemed to thicken, heavy with smoke, tension, and the metallic edge of anticipation.Then—A sharp, thunderous crack echoed through the hall. Someone had slammed a staff against the marble floor. The sound was final, absolute, as though it carried authority carved into the bones of the men who filled the room.Instantly, the atmosphere shifted.Every man gave way, breaking from their casual stances. They shuffled backward, forming two long lines along the sides of the hall. Guns lowered but did not disappear, each weapon still within easy reach. Their faces hardened, posture straightened. It wasn’t fear that moved them, but discipline. Trained loyalty.Dane’s gaze snapped toward the source of the sound.A figure stepped forward from the far sha
Fate’s Edge
The room remained silent. Not a single man dared to breathe too loud. For a brief moment, it was as if time itself had paused — every eye fixed on Dane, every finger twitching just inches away from a trigger.Then came the sound.THOOM!A staff slammed against the polished floor, echoing like thunder in the great chamber. The sharp crack split the silence, snapping every man in the room to attention. At once, the soldiers of this hidden mafia stepped aside, shifting with robotic precision until they were standing in two perfect lines, leaving a path open down the center.And that was when he appeared.A man walked forward with deliberate calm, the steady clack… clack… clack of his staff striking the ground in rhythm with his steps. His presence swallowed the room whole.He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, crisp and sharp, with a wide-brimmed hat shadowing his face. A single eye glowed like a predator’s — his other was covered with a black eyepatch. Around his left hand, wrapped t
Keep Watching
The Coin Flipper watched the coin spin between his fingers as if it were a living thing. He let it rise, the silver disc catching the chandelier light and throwing a quick, bright star across the ceiling. The room held its breath with him.“So now,” he said, his voice low and amused, “I decide what to do with that little eye of yours.” He nodded toward the tiny camera hidden in Jane’s suit. “It will be my guilt if I have to remove it. But first… let the coin decide.”The flip sent the coin arcing into the air. For a beat it hung, a small bright eternity, then fell back into the palm of his hand with a faint clink. He let it roll across his knuckle and reveal its face. “Huh,” he drawled. “You’re lucky tonight.”On Jane’s iPad, Butcher’s face tightened into a line. He didn’t look surprised; he looked measured, like a man who had expected several outcomes and accepted each. The Coin Flipper smiled, an ugly little curl of amusement. “Butcher,” he called out, loud enough for the camera to
Truth by Coin
The Coin Flipper’s smile thinned into something sharper, like a blade drawn from silk. He stepped a fraction closer, the coin still spinning between his fingers as if it had a mind of its own. “So you,” he said, voice suddenly businesslike, “now then — I would like to ask you a question. It mustn’t lie. If it lies, my trust in you will shrink, and that will not be good for anyone.”Dane felt the words land like cold water. Every muscle in his body tightened. The pistols at his temples were reminders that this was not a parlor game. The men around him pressed forward, making the circle tighter; the room’s temperature seemed to drop a degree.“What question do you want to ask?” Dane rasped. His throat cracked around the words; his mouth tasted like metal.The Coin Flipper let the coin fall into his palm and close his fingers around it. “Tell me the truth — am I saying the truth, or am I not?” he asked, then leaned in as if the simpler meaning might have been lost. “And while we’re at it
Toss
They had been eating — plates clattered, cheap laughter threaded through the air, and the thick tang of roasted meat mixed with smoke. Most of the men sat back in their chairs, leaning into the lazy rhythm of a lunch break, knives and forks a beat away from their mouths. The room had the loose, dangerous comfort of a place that expected trouble but preferred sandwiches first.One of the men idly rolled a die across the table and caught it with a practiced flick of the wrist. It was a small, meaningless game between men with too much time and too little to care for rules. The die was not the Coin Flipper’s tool; the Coin Flipper used only his coin — always the coin — and he had been careful to make that line clear. The die clattered and vanished into a palm; someone grunted as the number landed. Conversation buzzed again, but the thread of attention never truly left the man at the center.The Coin Flipper stood like a still point in a tidal room. The coin glinted between his fingers as
The Switch
The hall’s mood shifted so fast it made Dane’s head swim. One moment it had been all taut menace and quiet like drawn wire; the next, a ripple of laughter rolled through the men and loosened the shoulders that had been carved from stone. Dane blinked, trying to parse the sudden change. He watched faces soften, mouths part for jokes, a fork clink on a plate — the same crowd that had been seconds ago ready to pull triggers now guffawed at something that only they seemed to understand.“Why is this place so weird?” Dane muttered under his breath, more to himself than to anyone. The gravel in his voice hung in the air like an aftertaste. He watched the Coin Flipper, who stood at the center of it all with the bored look of a ringmaster. The man’s coin spun between his fingers, bright and small and absurdly ordinary for the way it governed people’s lives.The Coin Flipper caught Dane’s confused stare and smiled, a thin, practiced curl. “Simple,” he said, voice low and theatrical so even the
Between Two Devils
Dane’s heart raced. The room felt smaller now, as if the walls were inching closer with every breath. He could see the men’s fingers tightening around their guns. Sweat gathered at the back of his neck, but he forced himself to sit still, his expression neutral. Is this why they’re threatening me? he wondered. I’m not safe here. Not one bit.He reached slowly into his pocket. “The boss said he wanted to chat with…” he began, his voice steady despite the thudding in his chest. “I’ll chat with the CoinFlipper. That’s why he sent me here.”His fingers brushed cold glass. When he pulled the phone out, he blinked—its screen was spider-webbed with cracks, but still functional.“Hey,” CoinFlipper snapped, his coin clinking softly in his palm. “What are you doing bringing out your phone?”“My boss wanted to speak with you,” Dane said. “I’ll speak with you. Do you have any objections?”CoinFlipper tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Is it Butcher?” His lips curled in a thin smile. “If it’s him,
Dawn Briefing
They moved fast after the call ended, like a wrong chord finally resolved. Butcher’s final words — “Send him back in the car. And don’t decide that with the coin” — had landed heavy, and the Coin Flipper’s hands trembled just enough when he touched Dane’s cracked phone and dropped it to the floor. He picked it up, turned it over in his palm, and shoved it back into Dane’s pocket. The crack spidered wider where the screen had taken a beating, but the phone still held a promise: connection.The Coin Flipper sat back down as if settling into an old fear. His face was a slow study. This man Butcher… I know who he is. I know how terrifying he is, Dane imagined him thinking. He remembered something he’d never quite forgiven. But this is not the right time to strike. Should I toss the coin? No. If I do, I cannot take it back. If the coin commands blood, Butcher may come after me. That would be bad. The hesitation changed him; the others in the hall noticed it.“Call the medic,” the Coin Flip