Lahat ng Kabanata ng UNDRESSED BY THE MAFIA LORD: Kabanata 361 - Kabanata 370

He called Marco as he was heading to the elevator."I need the car ready," Dimitri said. "And I need you to pull together everything you can find about Dante Romano's current status. Medical records, movement logs, everything. I need to know if he's mobile again.""Yes, boss," Marco said, understanding without needing explanation that something had happened.By the time Dimitri reached the garage, the car was ready. By the time he was pulling out into the early morning traffic, his mind had already moved through the first dozen responses he could make to this attack.He could hit Dante's operations in Rome. Could move money to retaliate. Could escalate the violence immediately and force a direct confrontation.But that's what whoever was behind this would expect. That's what they were counting on, that he'd react emotionally instead of strategically.Instead, Dimitri decided to do something different.He decided to find out exactly who he was dealing with before he made his move.The

Dimitri's jaw tightened as he said it, understanding fully what he was proposing. Not just a vendetta with Dante. But potentially a conflict with an organization that had already proven willing to create bioweapons, to conduct experiments, to operate at a level of ruthlessness that made traditional crime look civilized."Okay," Enzo said, "I'll get back to you in twenty-four hours. I'll gather the information and have answers for you. I'll talk to my contacts, follow the money trails, investigate any unusual meetings. Twenty-four hours.""Good," Dimitri said.There was a brief silence on the line, then Enzo said. "I heard about what happened to Eve," Enzo finally said. "And I heard that Dante escaped. In Jersey City, when you had him in the warehouse. You let him live."Dimitri felt Eve's hand slip into his, squeezing gently. She understood what Enzo was saying. She understood the implication."I guess you shouldn't have let him leave, brother," Enzo continued, his tone measured but c

He still couldn't throw a full punch without his side pulling. Still had to sit down after too many stairs, still felt it when he pushed further than he should. But he could stand at the window of his Brooklyn office without gripping the frame for balance, and today that felt like enough of a victory to notice."You're doing the thing," Luca said from the couch, not looking up from his laptop."What thing?""The thing where you stand there looking pleased with yourself because your body finally stopped betraying you.""I'm allowed a moment.""You've had about eleven moments this week."Dante turned from the window, and even that felt easier than it had a month ago, no sharp intake of breath, no careful recalibration. "You'd be insufferable too if you spent three weeks being carried around like a piece of furniture.""I was insufferable when I broke my wrist in college. I can't imagine what you'd have been like with an actual bullet wound." Luca finally glanced up. "How's the ribs?""B

It wasn't just the shaking in her hands anymore. It was the tightness in her chest that came without warning, the sensation that she couldn't quite breathe deeply enough. It was the way her heart would suddenly race for no reason, then slow down to a crawl. It was the sensitivity to light and sound, the way the morning sun coming through her window felt like it was burning her eyes. The way a maid's footsteps in the hallway made her flinch.It was the sweating. The constant, low-level sweating that made her clothes stick to her skin despite the cool temperature of her room.And underneath all of that was something worse. A clarity that was almost painful. A sharpness to her thoughts that felt wrong after months of the medication's soft blur. It was like waking up from a long sleep and discovering that everything around you had changed while you were unconscious.Isabella pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to make herself smaller. Trying to contai

"I don't know," Marelli said, and there was genuine frustration in his voice now. "But something else is happening. Some kind of treatment I'm not providing. Some kind of intervention that's accelerating his recovery in ways that defy conventional medicine.""When did you realize this?" Enzo asked."Three weeks ago," Marelli said. "I started wondering when the improvement seemed too rapid. But I didn't want to believe it. I kept thinking maybe my initial assessment was wrong, maybe I'd underestimated his body's natural healing capacity. But then...""But then?" Enzo prompted."But then I went to see him for a regular therapy session five days ago," Marelli said. "And he was walking. Not with assistance. Not carefully. But walking. Across his study, back and forth, like he'd been doing it for weeks instead of days."Enzo felt his pulse quicken."Walking," Enzo repeated. "Five days ago.""I asked him about it," Marelli continued. "I asked him what else he was doing for his recovery. Wha