"Mafiaaa Boss Left His Bride for His Mistress on Their Wedding Night

Chaos erupted in the darkness.

The mercenaries outside hesitated, their night-vision optics momentarily blinding them as the surge tripped the infrared security flares.

*One.*

Nyla dropped low behind the marble balustrade.

*Two.*

A deafening volley of gunfire echoed through the west wing. Dante moved like a phantom through the shadows. Two gunshots rang out in rapid succession, followed by the heavy thuds of falling bodies.

*Three.*

Emergency generator lights flickered back on in a sickly amber hum.

Dante was an avatar of death. He eliminated three mercenaries before they could raise their barrels, his movements terrifyingly efficient, fluid, and lethal. He cleared the central courtyard, moving with the precision of a predator protecting his den.

Nyla did not remain idle. A mercenary breached the rear terrace doors, his weapon raised, his eyes locking onto Nyla. Before he could squeeze the trigger, Nyla leveled her silver pistol.

*Bang.*

The shot caught him cleanly in the shoulder, throwing him off balance. Dante appeared behind him like a wraith, snapping the man's neck with a sickening crack.

Dante rushed toward her, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with concern. He grabbed her shoulders, scanning her body frantically. "Are you hit? Nyla, look at me. Are you bleeding?"

"I'm fine," she breathed. "Dante, look out!"

From the terrace steps, Han Seol-ah appeared, her face smeared with mud and soot, holding a heavy-caliber revolver with both hands. Her eyes were bloodshot, completely consumed by madness.

"If I can't have the empire, neither of you will!" Seol-ah screamed, pulling the trigger.

Dante didn't hesitate. He didn't think. He didn't take cover.

He twisted his entire body, throwing himself directly in front of Nyla.

*BANG.*

The deafening report shook the room.

A heavy, sickening impact reverberated through Dante’s chest. He grunted, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat as the high-caliber bullet tore through his shoulder and upper torso. Blood—hot, crimson, and thick—splattered across Nyla’s face and soaked into the silk of her robe.

"Dante!" Nyla shrieked.

Dante staggered backward, collapsing heavily against the stone pillar, his blood pooling rapidly onto the marble floor.

Seol-ah laughed hysterically, raising the gun again to finish him. "Die, you arrogant bastard!"

She never got the chance.

Nyla stepped over Dante’s fallen body. Her face was completely devoid of human mercy. The heiress, the painter, the bride was gone; only the blood of the Vane maritime dynasty remained.

*Bang. Bang.*

Nyla fired two consecutive rounds into Han Seol-ah’s knees.

Seol-ah shrieked in agony, dropping the weapon and collapsing onto the broken glass, clawing at her shattered kneecaps.

Nyla didn't spare her a second glance. She dropped to her knees beside Dante, her hands pressing desperately against the horrific wound in his chest. Blood was bubbling between her fingers, warm and terrifyingly abundant.

"Dante! Stay with me! Dante, open your eyes!" she cried, her tears finally breaking through, splashing against his pale, blood-streaked cheeks.

Dante’s eyelids fluttered. He raised a trembling, blood-stained hand, his fingers barely touching her cheek. A faint, bloody smile touched his lips.

"You... you shot her..." he whispered weakly.

"Shut up, you idiot! Don't speak!" she sobbed, tearing the hem of her silk robe and packing it into the wound. "You can't die! You swore an oath! You hear me, Dante Avanoir? You swore an oath to my father, and you swore an oath to me! You do not have permission to die!"