Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss novel Chapter 153

Chapter 153: Packages

Chapter One Hundred and Fifty- Three

Markus didn’t move.

His body refused the command, as if some older instinct had taken over and decided that stepping any farther would break something that couldn’t be repaired. The room in front of him was quiet, too quiet compared to the rest of the rooms and that silence pressed against his ears until his head rang.

Everything here was smaller.

The ceiling sat lower. The mattresses were narrow, thin, lined up with cruel efficiency. Chains hung again, but these didn’t drag on the floor. They were measured. Adjusted. Bolted at heights that made Markus’s stomach turn as his eyes followed them down.

There were cameras everywhere. These were not like the hidden ones nor the careless ones.

They were mounted. Angled and looked tested.

Red lights blinked steadily, recording even now, their lenses fixed on the beds, the corners, the places where there was nowhere to stand without being seen. A monitor glowed on a metal desk against the wall, showing multiple feeds at once. Time stamps. File numbers. Labels already prepared.

Markus stepped closer without realizing he had moved.

On the desk were sealed packages, stacked neatly, wrapped, and marked with names instead of numbers. Some of them were handwritten. Others printed cleanly, professionally, like merchandise prepared for shipment. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

He recognized the names. They were not street men. Not even ordinary men. These were big-time monsters.

Men whose faces filled screens every day. Men whose wealth moved markets. Men who stood on stages and spoke about morality while this waited for them in boxes.

His throat tightened.

Behind him, Ahmet arrived at a run, breath hard, anger already pulling him forward like gravity. He slowed when Markus didn’t move. One look at his face was enough.

"What is it?" Ahmet demanded, sharp and low.

Markus didn’t answer.

Ahmet pushed past him and then he stopped too.

The room took Ahmet differently. His fury didn’t surge. It stalled, like an engine choking on something poisonous. His gaze swept once, fast and lethal, taking in the scale, the intent, the planning that went into every detail.

Then his eyes dropped.

Small shoes sat by one mattress. Not placed neatly. Just there. Forgotten.

Ahmet inhaled and nothing came out.

For a long moment, neither man spoke. The other rooms continued their noise, while their men moved the victims into the van but this room existed outside of sound, outside of reason. They couldn’t hear this room when they were outside it. It was designed to suit a purpose.

"That’s not..." Markus finally said, then stopped. There were no words that didn’t feel like lies.

Ahmet’s jaw flexed, hard enough to ache. His hands curled slowly at his sides, not reaching for his gun, not reaching for anything. The anger he’d carried all night didn’t disappear, it only sank, heavy and lethal, settling somewhere deeper than rage.

"They recorded everything," Markus said hoarsely. "Catalogued it. Sold it."

"These sick bastards," Ahmet snapped, his voice breaking loose as his fists tightened. The word wasn’t enough, but it was all that came out.

"No wonder Marco has so much power," Markus went on, heat creeping into his tone. "Those suffocating months I spent at the Villa, I kept seeing people coming and going. Politicians. Executives. Men who didn’t belong there but acted like they owned the place. I wondered what business they had with him." He exhaled sharply. "This was it. Or worse. Much worse."

Ahmet didn’t respond right away. He reached for the desk and picked up a few of the packages, turning them slowly, reading the names printed on them. Each one felt heavier than the last.

"These aren’t favors," he said finally. "They’re leverage."

Markus nodded. "Everyone whose name is on one of those boxes is owned. Silence bought in advance."

Ahmet set the packages down with deliberate care, as if slamming them would give them more power than they deserved. "Marco wasn’t just running businesses," he said. "He was building a shield. You don’t touch a man like this without shaking half the world."

"And now?" Markus asked quietly.

Ahmet’s jaw tightened. His eyes lifted, cold and resolved. "Now we understand why he doesn’t think he can fall."

He glanced once more at the desk, at the names, at the system laid bare in front of them.

"And why he’s wrong."

A single standing lamp burned on the desk, its cone of light narrow and harsh. It was enough to reveal the monitor, the sealed packages, the names but it left the rest of the room drowned in shadow, shapes suggested rather than seen.

Ahmet reached for the switch, and when the lights came on, the room revealed itself all at once, impossible to look away from.

Ahmet stepped forward, eyes fixed on the names, the cameras, the space that had been made to break things that would never fully heal. Whatever line had existed before, whatever restraint he’d still been operating under, burned away without ceremony.

His eyes moved once, yet slowly from the equipment and sealed packages to the corner of the room.

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