Chapter 13: Greco's fall

The morning sun bathed Bianca’s mansion in a soft golden light, but inside the war room, the atmosphere was anything but serene. Aarohi sat at the head of the table, her back straight despite the pain that lingered from her injury. Bandages peeked out from beneath her shirt, a stark reminder of how close she’d come to death. Ivan, Dante, Bianca, and Ajay were gathered around her, their faces etched with determination.

Spread across the table were blueprints, maps, and photographs, each piece of paper representing another facet of Salvatore Greco’s sprawling empire. Red lines connected locations, creating a web of Greco’s operations—his warehouses, docks, safe houses, and financial networks.

“We have to hit him where it hurts the most,” Aarohi said, her voice steady and commanding. “His finances, his supply lines, and his men. Without those, he’s nothing.”