The atmosphere on the fourteenth floor of Moretti Tower was no longer filled with diplomatic tension, but with the quiet preparation of war. Moonlight filtering through the massive glass windows cast a silver sheen over Dante Moretti’s unmoving face. He stood near the central table, feeling the prototype of a new audio device developed by Victor Thorne, a bone conduction transceiver that would transmit Maya’s data directly into his auditory nerves.“Boss, I found their weak point,” Maya’s voice sounded sharper after her third cup of coffee. Her monitor displayed a heat map of an import export warehouse called Siberia Logistics on the outskirts of the Bicocca district. “Legally they ship heavy equipment parts, but their data traffic is encrypted with the same protocol as the Red Ghost unit.”“Bicocca is open ground. Too much empty space,” Kael cut in while checking the magazine of his assault rifle. Click. The metallic sound rang crisply in Dante’s ears. “If we hit them head on, they’l

The fourteenth floor of Moretti Tower was never truly bright, but this morning the darkness felt more alive. Dante Moretti stood in the center of the room, his hands folded behind his back, facing the massive window overlooking a slowly awakening Milan. In his ears, he caught the mechanical symphony, Maya’s steady heartbeat at her workstation, Elena’s measured breathing, and the metallic scrape of Kael checking his rifle barrel.“Boss, you need to hear this,” Maya’s voice broke the silence, her fingers never stopping their dance across the keyboard. “The Abyss forums are going insane. The name ‘The Oracle’ is no longer just a rumor. They are calling you an entity that can shut down an entire district’s power grid with a thought.”Dante did not turn, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Fear always breeds hyperbole, Maya. What are the Dons saying?”“Don Romano is looking for extra protection. He just hired three former Foreign Legion mercenaries,” Maya replied. “But the more i

The remnants of smoke from the Vigentino district may have been swept away by the morning wind, but on the fourteenth floor of Moretti Tower, the atmosphere had only grown thicker. The sharp scent of espresso mingled with the ozone tang from rows of overworked servers. Dante Moretti stood motionless before the wide window, his dark glasses reflecting Milan’s pale dawn.“Twenty-four hours, Boss. That’s all it took for news of the ‘Ashfall in Vigentino’ to cripple the underground stock exchange,” Maya’s voice chimed, punctuated by the crunch of chips. “Romano’s shell companies dropped sixty percent. He tried to borrow funds from a bank in Cyprus, but I already blocked the route.”Dante slowly turned. “Blocking isn’t enough, Maya. I want him to know what it feels like to beg.”“He’s already started,” Marco Torrisi replied. The older man sat at the round table, surrounded by stacks of digital files. “Romano contacted Don Lucchese three times in the last hour. He pleaded for a short-term l

 Dawn over Milan rose in a grim gray wash, but at the top of Moretti Tower, the atmosphere was far sharper. Dante Moretti stood on the balcony, letting the cold wind pierce the skin of his face. He was not wearing his black glasses, his fully white eyes fixed straight toward the horizon as if he could see every heartbeat of the city awakening below. “Don Romano was executed by his own men at the Swiss border,” Elena Rossi’s voice broke the silence from the balcony’s sliding door. “They preferred to hand over his head rather than face Don Lucchese’s wrath after the data from that ‘Black Box’ started leaking.” Dante did not move. He focused his hearing on Elena’s footsteps. “Your steps are heavy, Elena. You did not sleep after we returned from San Siro.” “Who could sleep after seeing how you brought down an entire family with nothing

 The asphalt road leading into the Tuscan countryside was far from as smooth as the streets of central Milan. The vibrations traveling through the tires of the black van fed Dante Moretti a constant stream of data as he leaned back in the middle seat. He could feel every small pothole, every shift in ground texture, every incline of the road climbing the hills. For most people, this was a tiring trip home. For Dante, it was a return to the snake pit.“We have entered the estate perimeter, Boss,” Maya’s voice hissed softly through Dante’s bone conduction earpiece. “Satellite shows no suspicious movement within a two kilometer radius, but I am detecting radio frequency interference around the villa. Someone installed a low level scrambler.”“They want to cut off your sight, Maya,” Dante replied, his voice calm but sharp. “But they cannot cut off my hearing. Elena, do you see your uncle’s guards at t