Chapter 183 Bitter Realization

Chapter 183 Bitter Realization
Viktor stumbled out of the secret passage and into the early morning darkness.
He stopped for a moment and looked behind him.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No Moretti soldiers.
No gunfire.
He was alone.
For the first time that night, Viktor allowed himself to breathe.
He had made it out.
Barely.
His clothes were dusty.
His face was covered in sweat.
His breathing was still heavy from the frantic escape.
But he was alive.
That was all that mattered.
Viktor glanced toward the road.
Morning had arrived.
The sky was beginning to brighten, and the darkness that had protected him throughout the night was slowly disappearing.
That was a problem.
He couldn't return to the Moretti estate.
Don Roman would undoubtedly send men there.
It would be the first place he would search for him.
Viktor knew Don Roman too well.
The man wouldn't stop.
Not after everything that had happened.
Not after the betrayal.
Not after the attack.
Not after Viktor had tried to kill him.
If Don Roman found him... there would be no second chance.
Viktor looked down at his hands.
They were trembling.
He clenched them into fists.
He had lost.
The realization was bitter.
He had entered the Russo estate believing he would leave as the new Mafia King.
Instead, he had lost almost all his men.
His captains had betrayed him.
Enzo had been left behind.
He had mistakenly shot Don Russo's daughter.
And Don Roman was still alive.
More importantly...
Don Roman had barely been touched.
Viktor shook his head.
"No."
He couldn't think about it.
Not now.
He needed to survive first.
He quickly moved away from the secret passage.
He didn't know where he was going.
He didn't have a destination.
He didn't have a plan.
He simply needed somewhere Don Roman wouldn't think to look.
A place where he wouldn't find him.
Somewhere far away.
Somewhere where he could disappear.
Viktor pulled his jacket tighter around himself and began walking.
Every vehicle that passed made him nervous.
Every unfamiliar face made him glance over his shoulder.
He kept moving.
Away from the Russo estate.
Away from the Moretti estate.
Away from the war.
But deep down, Viktor knew the truth.
He wasn't running toward safety.
He was running from Don Roman.
And Don Roman Moretti was not the kind of man anyone escaped from forever.

\---

Back at the Russo Estate, the atmosphere inside the estate had changed completely.
The gunfire had stopped.
Smoke still lingered in some parts of the building.
Broken furniture and shattered glass covered the large living room.
Bodies of fallen soldiers had been removed from the main area.
But nobody was thinking about the destruction.
Everyone's attention was focused on Bianca.
A physician had finally arrived.
He knelt beside her and immediately began examining the wound.
"She's lost a lot of blood."
Don Russo's face went pale.
"Can you save her?"
The physician didn't answer immediately.
He carefully examined the bullet wound.
"Fortunately, the bullet went through the shoulder."
Don Russo released a shaky breath.
"So she'll live?"
"If we can control the bleeding and prevent infection, she has a good chance."
Don Russo closed his eyes.
A tear slipped down his cheek.
"Thank God."
The physician began cleaning the wound.
Bianca remained unconscious.
Her face was pale.
Every few moments, her breathing became slightly stronger.
Don Russo remained on his knees beside her.
He hadn't moved since the physician arrived.
He watched every movement.
Every bandage.
Every drop of blood.
Every breath his daughter took.
He was terrified.
He had spent years building an empire.
He had ordered men to kill.
He had survived enemies who wanted him dead.
He had escaped situations that should have ended his life.
But none of that mattered now.
His daughter was lying wounded because of his choices.
Because he had refused to listen to her.
Because he had betrayed Roman again.
Because he had chosen to work with Viktor.
Don Russo looked down.
His hands were still stained with Bianca's blood.
"I'm sorry."
He whispered.
"I'm so sorry, Bianca."
The physician glanced at him.
But said nothing.

The doors suddenly opened.
Marco entered with the other loyal captains.
Their clothes were dusty.
Their weapons were still in their hands.
They immediately approached Don Roman.
Marco bowed.
"Don."
Don Roman turned toward them.
"Viktor?"
Marco shook his head.
"We couldn't catch him."
Don Roman's expression remained calm.
"Explain."
"He had a head start."
Marco looked toward the doorway.
"He escaped through the same secret passage we used to enter."
"He was already gone by the time we reached it."
One of the other captains stepped forward.
"We can still go after him."
"We'll return to the Moretti estate."
"If he went there, we'll find him."
Don Roman stared at him for a moment.
Then shook his head.
"No."
The captain looked surprised.
"No, Don?"
"Stay here."
Marco exchanged a brief glance with the others.
Don Roman turned toward the window.
Outside, the first rays of sunlight were spreading across the city.
The battle at the Russo estate had changed everything.
Viktor had lost.
His men had been scattered.
His own captains had turned against him.
His alliance with Don Russo had collapsed.
His right hand man, Enzo was dead.
Don Roman looked around the room.
Then his eyes settled on Don Russo.
The old Mafia boss was still kneeling beside his daughter.
He looked broken.
Almost unrecognizable.
Don Roman watched him silently.
For years, Don Russo had been an enemy.
He had betrayed him.
Collaborated with Nico.
Worked with Viktor.
Returned to the city after being ordered never to return.
Then entered the estate with the intention of killing him.
How many times could a man be forgiven?
How many chances could he be given before mercy became weakness?
Don Roman slowly walked toward him.
Don Russo noticed him.
He lowered his head.
He didn't dare meet Don Roman's eyes.
But he knew what this was.
He could feel his death was near.