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Falling For The Mafia Boss  Novel Cover

Falling For The Mafia Boss

After witnessing her father's murder by the Gonzalez Cartel at thirteen, Raven returns to Spain nearly a decade later seeking vengeance. Now twenty-two, she leads a rebel group to dismantle the empire from the inside. However, her mission complicates as she falls for Mario, the son of her enemy. Caught between her loyalty to her secret lover Lucas and her growing feelings for Mario, Raven must decide if revenge or love will define her future.
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Chapter 2

Raven's POV

The moment the words left my mouth, everything shifted. The calm, calculated tension that had been hanging in the car turned into raw, adrenaline-fueled motion. It was time to execute, time to move from the waiting game into the action. The clock was ticking, and every second felt like a lifetime.

Franca's voice crackled in my ear. "Cameras are down. You're good to go."

"Copy that," I responded, my voice steady despite the pressure mounting.

I was already out of the car, my boots hitting the cold, damp concrete with a muted thud. The rain had picked up, but that didn't matter. The wet ground was our friend, it muffled our steps, concealing our presence as we went. I moved with a ghost's grace, slipping through the shadows towards the east entrance of the warehouse.

Lucas was close behind me, his silhouette blending with the darkness, his mask making him look like a predator-silent, lethal, and focused. I could feel his presence just inches away, his readiness almost palpable.

We made it to the east entrance. The warehouse loomed before us like a dark, brooding fortress. Inside, there were millions of dollars at stake, but it wasn't just money we were after.

I signaled to Lucas. He pushed open the rusted door with a quiet creak. The smell of old metal and stale air greeted us, but I didn't pause to take it in. We were on a clock, and that clock was ticking fast.

"Franca, camera feeds are down?" I whispered into the comms.

"Like they were never there," she replied. "You've got five minutes to do what you came for."

Inside the warehouse was a maze of narrow hallways, all leading to the heart of the operation. But tonight, we weren't after information or files. We were here for something more tangible-something that would cripple Gonzalez's empire if we pulled this off.

Thirty million dollars in cash.

We had intel that the money was stored in a high-security vault, hidden in the deepest part of the warehouse, guarded by layers of security. But we had studied every corner of this place for months, and tonight, everything was falling into place.

"Franca, we're moving to the vault," I said, keeping my voice low. "Give us the layout one more time."

The plan was simple. The vault was located in the back room, past a series of guarded checkpoints. But once inside, there was a catch. We had intel that the room wouldn't just contain money-it would also house something far more dangerous.

"Stay sharp," Lucas muttered, his eyes scanning the shadows ahead. "You know what's in there."

I nodded, the taste of metal on my tongue. "Yeah, I know."

We kept moving through the dim-lit hallways, turning corners with practiced precision. Finally, we reached the door to the back room.

I raised my hand, signaling Lucas to stop. I could hear the faint hum of ventilation and the low murmur of voices behind the thick door. We crouched down, peering through a small window in the steel door. What we saw made my stomach tighten.

Stacks of cash, piled high in the corner. But that wasn't what caught my eye.

The room wasn't just a vault-it was a storage for the Cartel's entire operation. Along with the cash, the room was filled with dozens of barrels, their contents easily identifiable from the white powder leaking out. Cocaine.

The Cartel's prized product. The very thing that fueled the empire I intended to bring crashing down.

But tonight, the focus was the cash. I turned to Lucas. "The vault is behind that door. But it's locked tight, and I'm guessing the security isn't just for show."

"I'll get it open," Lucas said, pulling out a set of high-tech tools. "But we need to move quickly. Once those cameras reset, we're exposed."

I nodded and watched him work, the soft clicking of his tools as he hacked into the vault's system. Every second counted. The cocaine barrels were still there, but they didn't matter right now. We couldn't afford to get distracted.

"Done," Lucas muttered as the door to the vault clicked open.

Inside, the sight of the money made my pulse spike. I couldn't help but feel a rush. Thirty million dollars-although not a humongous amount, it was still enough to shake the Cartel. Enough to fund our operations for years.

But as we stepped inside, I took a long look at the room. The cash was stored in a high-tech vault, its digital locks flashing green. But it was the other contents that made my skin crawl.

The barrels of cocaine lined the walls, stacked high like trophies. The room smelled of chemicals, of power, of violence. It was a monument to everything I hated.

Lucas moved toward the cash, his hands steady as he began to pack the stacks into bags. But we couldn't be too greedy. We had to take only what was necessary and leave. We didn't have the luxury of getting caught up in the Cartel's operations.

I looked over at the cocaine barrels again. The temptation to burn them all, to destroy what had fueled so many lives, was strong. But tonight was about the money.

"Franca, status?" I said into the comms, my voice even.

"I'm still in control of the cameras," Franca replied. "But the guards will start noticing soon. You've got two minutes before everything goes to hell."

"Two minutes. Copy that," I muttered, turning back to the vault.

Lucas finished loading the last of the cash into the bags. We were nearly there. Thirty million dollars in cash. And all we had to do was get out.

But just as I was about to signal the all-clear, the sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears.

"Guard," I whispered to Lucas. "Time to go."

We slammed the vault door shut, our hands moving quickly as we gathered the bags of cash. But we were running out of time. The guards would be here any second.

I grabbed the duffel bags, throwing them over my shoulder. "Franca, we're on our way out."

The sound of footsteps grew louder. We moved quickly, retracing our steps, heading back toward the exit. But the walls seemed to close in around us. The weight of the money was heavy in my hands, but the tension in my chest was even heavier.

And then, just as we reached the door, the alarm blared.

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