Lahat ng Kabanata ng Kiss Me While The World Burns: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

The gilded molding of the ceiling vibrated as another dull thump rattled the clifftop villa. Inside his private study, Alvise Rossetti was sweating through his bespoke, three-thousand-euro Brioni suit. He sat behind a massive, hand-carved mahogany desk, his hands trembling so violently that the ice in his crystal glass of scotch clinked a rhythmic, terrified beat. He was a politician. He was a man who negotiated tax loopholes in Rome, shook hands with foreign dignitaries, and smiled for the cameras. He understood power in terms of votes, bribes, and legislative vetoes. He did not understand the kind of power that arrived in a heavy, matte-silver briefcase with a titanium lock and he certainly didn't understand the kind of power that came with a trail of dead mercenaries. "I told you not to buy it," Beatrice hissed. His wife paced the length of the Persian rug, her elegant emerald silk gown torn at the hem and stained with mud. She looked like a wild animal trapped in a velvet

If there was one thing Victoria De Luca absolutely despised more than being three minutes too late to a heist, it was rushing through a wardrobe change. The three armored SUVs tore through the neon-blurred streets of Palermo like bat out of hell, their tires screaming against the wet asphalt as the rain came down in sheets. Inside the lead vehicle, the air was a chaotic blend of tactical panic and high-fashion desperation. "We have exactly thirty-two minutes before the final hammer falls on my father's machine," Victoria barked, her fingers fly-typing on her encrypted phone as she looked out the window. "If I have to crash a multi-million-euro subterranean auction looking like I just crawled out of a wet ditch in Catania, someone is getting fired." "Relax, Empress," Giordano murmured from the seat beside her. He was casually checking the cylinder of his revolver, utterly unfazed by the fact that Malik was currently taking a ninety-degree turn on two wheels. "I’ve already contacted t

Down on the circular stage below, the ambient light in the theater dimmed to a deep, dramatic purple, the string quartet in the corner fading into a tense, mechanical silence. A single, high-intensity spotlight cut through the darkness, illuminating the center platform.A tall, painfully thin man in a pristine charcoal suit and a lacquered white porcelain mask stepped onto the stage. He raised his hands, his fingers long and skeletal under the spotlight."Ladies, gentlemen, and respected sovereigns of the underground," the auctioneer’s voice echoed through the hidden speakers, perfectly modulated and cold. "Welcome to the Valenti emergency mid-market. Tonight, we host a collection of unique, time-sensitive assets acquired from across the Mediterranean basin. As always, the bids are digital, the transactions are immediate, and the house takes its ten percent. Let the floor open."The massive digital display floating above the stage flickered to life, glowing with a cold, blue light."W

The silence in the VIP box was so heavy you could hear a pin drop. Victoria stood completely frozen. Her eyes were glued to the massive, glowing white numbers on the giant black screen hanging above the center stage. BIDDER #000 (SECURE OUTBOUND PROXY) TRANSACTION STATUS: CLOSED Two hundred billion euros. It did not even look like a real number. It looked like a glitch. It looked like someone had sat on a keyboard and typed a bunch of zeros just to play a sick joke. Two hundred billion. That was not just "rich" money. That was the kind of money that could buy entire countries, build private space stations, and make the wealthiest people on Earth look like beggars. And someone had just thrown that massive pile of cash at a single, matte-silver briefcase. Slowly, the freezing shock in Victoria’s chest began to melt, turning into a hot, boiling wave of pure, unfiltered rage. She felt a burning heat rise from her neck to her cheeks. Her chest heaved as she stared at the word CLOSED

Giordano laughed, spinning the steering wheel to drift around a sharp mountain cliff. The headlights cut through the thick fog of the Sicilian mountains. The road was getting rougher, transitioning from paved asphalt to bumpy dirt and rocks. "We are getting close," Giordano said, his playful tone disappearing. "Turn off the headlights." With a flick of a switch, the convoy went completely dark, running only on dim tactical lights. A mile away from the coordinates, Giordano tapped the brakes. The massive SUV rolled to a silent stop under the shadow of some giant pine trees. Behind them, the other trucks stopped too. "We go on foot from here," Victoria said. She opened her door and stepped out into the freezing mountain air. The wind howled through the trees, but she did not even shiver. Her anger was keeping her warm. The team scrambled out of the vehicles. Tex, Malik, and the rest of the punished Sicily men formed a tight circle, their heavy rifles raised and ready. "Kany, stay