Chapter 37 - The Total Erasure
Nikolai’s hands shook violently as he kept the pistol leveled at Luca’s chest. The sheer, overwhelming dominance of the man standing before him was suffocating. Luca hadn't drawn a weapon, yet he controlled every molecule of air in the rusted office.
"You think you can buy my men and walk in here alone?" Nikolai screamed, his voice cracking with desperate panic. "I am a Volkov! I will put a bullet in your heart and take your empire myself!"
Luca didn't flinch. He simply tilted his head, a cold, mocking smirk playing on his lips. "Pull the trigger, Nikolai. Let’s see how far the Bratva's loyalty really goes."
Nikolai gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger.
Click.
The gun didn't fire. The firing pin struck an empty chamber. Nikolai stared at the weapon in sheer horror, frantically racking the slide. Click. Click. Click. Every single round had been completely removed from the magazine.
"My head of security, Elias, paid a visit to your armorer three hours ago," Luca explained, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. "Your men were bought, your weapons were neutralized, and your escape routes have been blocked by federal agents. You brought a street gang to fight a financial titan, Nikolai. You lost before you even arrived in my city."
Nikolai threw the useless gun to the floor and lunged forward in a blind, pathetic rage, pulling a combat knife from his boot.
He didn't even make it two steps.
Luca moved with a terrifying, explosive speed that defied his massive frame. He sidestepped the wild thrust of the knife, grabbed Nikolai’s wrist, and twisted it with a sickening, bone-crushing snap. Nikolai shrieked in agony as the knife clattered to the floor. Luca didn't stop there. He drove his knee squarely into the Russian's ribs, fracturing bone, and hurled the man violently across the room.
Nikolai crashed through a rotting wooden desk, collapsing onto the floor in a broken, wheezing heap.
Luca walked over slowly, standing above the shattered mobster like a god of vengeance. He reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out a sleek digital tablet, dropping it onto the floor beside Nikolai's bleeding face.
The screen displayed real-time data feeds. The Volkov Bratva’s entire financial infrastructure—their Swiss bank accounts, their real estate holdings in Moscow, their shell companies in Cyprus—were being systematically drained, frozen, and seized by international authorities. Hannah’s cyber-security team had completely dismantled their legacy in a matter of minutes.
"I am not going to kill you, Nikolai," Luca said coldly, crouching down so his piercing gray eyes met the Russian's terrified gaze. "Death is too quick. I am going to let you live. But you are going back to Russia with nothing. No money, no men, no empire. You are going to spend the rest of your pathetic life looking over your shoulder, knowing that the Moretti family can erase you from existence with the push of a button."
Right on cue, the wail of police sirens and federal tactical vehicles filled the air outside the warehouse. Luca had orchestrated the perfect, bloodless execution of an empire.
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Luca stood up, adjusting the cuffs of his pristine tuxedo. He turned his back on the weeping, ruined Russian mobster, picked up his umbrella, and walked out into the rain. He had kept his promise to Hannah. He had protected his family, and he hadn't left a single body in the streets to do it. The Lion had roared, and the world had bowed.
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