The motel room was cheap and anonymous. Peeling wallpaper, a neon sign flashing through thin curtains, the smell of old cigarettes.Isabelle Dubois sat on the edge of the bed, her service weapon and badge on the nightstand. She'd been tracking Santino for eight months, building a case that would destroy his organization.She hadn't planned on caring about him.All this while she has fed him private information.The door opened as Santino entered cautiously, his eyes scanning for threats. When he saw her, something in his posture relaxed."You came," he said.Last Updated : 2025-06-13

Mia walked around the chair like a predator sizing up her prey. Her whole body language had changed. Gone was the vulnerable woman who had fake cries in his arms. This was someone else entirely, no this was who she truly was."Surprised?" she asked, running her finger along the rope at his wrists."Not really." Santino kept his voice steady. "Your father trained you well.""He did." Her voice was flat and emotionless. "Taught me everything about manipulation. About playing the long game.""So what am I to you? Another mark?"Mia's hand stopped moving

Santiano had to return to France, so he booked the earliest flight he could find. Ever since he first moved there thanks to Salvatore’s invitation he had been constantly on the move. After a while, traveling became exhausting.He finally landed at the airport and caught a cab straight to Paris, heading to the café Isabella had chosen for their meeting. It was small, bustling, and noisy, perfect for a discreet conversation.Santiano arrived early. He picked a corner table with a clear view of both entrances, just in case.Isabelle Dubois walked in at exactly two o’clock, wearing a simple black coat. She blended in effortlessly, looking like any other professional woman out for a quiet lunch. No one would have guessed she was an Interpol agent not from her calm demeanor, not from her elegant stride. She was beautiful, effortlessly alluring. No wonder Santiano had been drawn to her in the first place.But her eyes scanned the room like a cop's. Alert and Suspicious."You look handsome,

The dockside bar in Barcelona was exactly the kind of place Santino needed. Dark corners, no questions asked, and locals who minded their own business. He sat at the back table, nursing a whiskey and watching the door.Tatiana arrived twenty minutes late, just like always. She moved through the bar like she owned it, nodding to the bartender and several fishermen who clearly knew her well."Santino Leandro." She sat across from him, lighting a cigarette. "You look like hell.""Feel worse."Tatiana was in her forties, weathered by sun and salt water. She'd been smuggling everything from cigarettes to people across the Mediterranean for fifteen years. Never been caught, never been betrayed."What do you need?""Safe passage. Tonight.""Where to?""Doesn't matter. Anywhere but here."Tatiana studied his face. "This isn't about money, is it? You're running from something personal."The bartender brought her usual – vodka, neat and she knocked it back without flinching."You know what I l

Vincent swayed on his feet, one hand pressed against a shipping container for support. The poison was working, just slower than Mia had planned."Activated charcoal," he wheezed. "Take it every morning. Old CIA trick."Mia clutched her wounded shoulder, blood seeping through her fingers. "You're dying anyway.""Probably. But you'll die first."The pier had become a war zone as bodies scattered between shipping containers. Vincent's men fighting Mia's soldiers. Gunfire echoing off the water.Santino crouched behind a concrete barrier, trying to make s