THE MAFIA KING BROKEN ROSE novel Chapter 180

Chapter 180

The warehouse district erupted into chaos. Gunfire shattered the night silence as my men scrambled for cover behind concrete barriers and rusted shipping containers.

The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air, mixing with the smell of blood already being spilled.

I dove behind an overturned car just as bullets sprayed the spot where I’d been standing. Glass exploded around me, raining down like deadly confetti. Victoria had vanished into the shadows, but I could hear her laughter echoing off the warehouse walls cold, calculating, triumphant.

“Marco, left flank!” I shouted into my earpiece, but static crackled back. They were jamming our communications.

A body hit the ground near me with a wet thud. Giuseppe, one of my most loyal soldiers, stared sightlessly at the sky, his chest torn open by automatic weapons fire. Rage coursed through my veins like molten steel.

“Dominic!” Victoria’s voice carried across the battlefield, amplified by some kind of speaker system. “Come out, come out wherever you are! Let’s finish what we started all those years ago!”

I peered around the car’s twisted metal frame. Her men had us surrounded, but they weren’t amateurs. Military precision, coordinated movements–this wasn’t some hastily thrown together hit.

Well congrats Victoria, I underestimated you.

Another of my men screamed as he took a bullet to the shoulder, spinning and crashing into a stack of wooden crates. The sound of splintering wood mixed with his agonized cries filled the night air. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and viscous in the moonlight.

I had to move. Staying pinned down would get us all killed.

“Matthías!” I called out, spotting him behind a concrete pillar about twenty feet away. “Cover me!”

He nodded, raising his rifle. The sharp crack of his shots provided the distraction I needed. I sprinted across the open ground, my legs burning as bullets whined past my head. One grazed my arm, tearing through the expensive fabric of my suit and drawing a line of fire across my bicep.

I made it to the pillar, pressing my back against the cold concrete as I caught my breath.

“Boss, we’re outnumbered three to two,” Matthias panted, reloading his weapon. “We need to get out of here.”

“Not without answers.” I checked my gun–half a clip left. “Victoria didn’t set this up just to kill me. She wants something from me.”

As if summoned by my words, Victoria appeared at the far end of the warehouse district, standing atop a shipping container like some avenging goddess. She had added a bullet proof on her dress,, her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. Even from this distance, I could see the deadly grace in her

movements.

“Miss me,

Dominic?” she called out, her voice carrying clearly across the battlefield.

I stepped out from behind the pillar, keeping my gun trained on her. “Not particularly.”

She laughed, jumping down from the container with fluid ease. “Oh, but I’ve missed you. Missed this.” She gestured at the carnage around us. “The dance, the violence, the beautiful chaos we create together.”

“This isn’t a dance, Victoria. You are just slaughtering.”

“Semantics.” She moved closer, seemingly unconcerned about the gun pointed at her heart. “You know what I realized during our little chat? grown stronger. More dangerous. Years of running your empire alone will do that to a man but another thing, mentally you have gone weak.”

“Experience tends to have that effect.”

“Experience.” She tasted the word like fine wine. “Yes, that’s exactly what it is. But you want to know what gave me experience? What taught me to be

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Chapter 180

better, faster, more ruthless than I ever was when we were together?“.

I kept my finger on the trigger, ready for any sudden movement. “Enlighten me.”

“Years with Mikael Petrov.” Her smile was razor–sharp. “That man taught me things about pain, about power, about survival that you never could. He showed me what it means to truly embrace the darkness.”

“The Bratva broke you.”

“The Bratva made me.” She pulled out her own weapon, a sleek black pistol that gleamed in the moonlight. “Just like you made your little pet. But the difference is, Dominic, I chose my chains. She never had a choice. She just…obeyed. Being sick. Never fighting. It disgusts me.”

We circled each other now, two predators sizing up the competition. Around us, the gunfire was dying down–either because my men were dead, or because Victoria’s forces were waiting for orders.

“Speaking of your pet,” Victoria said casually, “I have something that might interest you.”

“Aria has nothing to do with this.”

“Doesn’t she?” Victoria’s laugh was like breaking glass. “Oh, Dominic. You really don’t know, do you? You think you know everything about your precious little dancer, but you’re missing the most important piece of the puzzle.”

My blood ran cold, but I kept my expression neutral. “What are you talking about?”

“The Fletcher connection, darling. It’s not just about some old business deal gone wrong. It’s about bloodlines. It’s about inheritance. It’s about secrets that could reshape everything you think you know about the girl warming your bed.”

Before I could respond, another figure emerged from the shadows. Nico stepped into the light, his usually immaculate appearance disheveled, his face twisted with rage and jealousy.

“Enough talking,” he snarled, raising his gun. “I have been waiting for this.”

Seeing Nico something in my heart twisted. He had no sympathy in his eyes.

Nico, my closest friend, my most trusted advisor. The man I’d considered a brother.

“Nico.” My voice,was deadly quiet. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done years ago.” His hand shook slightly as he aimed at my chest. “You think you deserve everything you have? The power, the respect, the empire? You think you deserve her?”

“This is about Aria?”

“This is about everything!” He stepped closer, his finger tightening on the trigger. “You’ve had everything handed to you, Dominic. Born into power, raised to rule. While I’ve spent my life in your shadow, cleaning up your mistakes, watching you take credit for my work.”

“Nico, think about what you’re doing. Can’t you consider our past friendship?”

“I’m done thinking!”

The gun exploded in his hands. Pain tore through my side like liquid fire as the bullet found its mark. I stumbled backward, my hand instinctively going to the wound.

Blood, hot and sticky, seeped between my fingers.

I managed to get behind a concrete barrier as Nico fired again, the bullet chipping away chunks of cement near my head. My vision blurred from the pain, but I forced myself to stay focused. Survival first, vengeance later.

The sounds of the firefight faded as I moved through the shadows, using every piece of cover I could find. My men were either dead or scattered, and I

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