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His Stripper, Their Obsession

Chapter 6 The King Cobra's Strike

Word Count: 1585    |    Released on: 14/05/2025

g to the roo

the air like the echo of a gunshot

lost his goddamn mind. Marco

rubbing his temples like

s froze over her laptop keybo

the room, daring any of

o speak. "You're ser

ead. "Does it look l

the Adriano that's about to b

ano! You wanna paint a bigger fucking target on your ba

flying fuck what he approves of. He

w Enforcement just intercepted the weapon shipment

"Let them know I'm comi

snake betrayed me. My father hung me out to dry, and our rivals smel

s was nuclear. Unre

nd sighed. "You've

on didn't change.

ent of sile

a resigned groan. "Alr

't blink. "C

e table like a g

Serena looked up fro

smirk

es like he was pra

own his face. "Wh

ard and planted both

letons for every filthy bastard in this country. Account info. Offshore laundering routes. Bribery tran

y sacred ground for the criminal elite, right? Mob families, drug lords, corrupt politicians and billionaires-they a

each of them, his voice tigh

everage. We're not just getting back what we lost-we'r

from Viktor?" Sere

o nodd

fore he fucked me over. He thought it was bai

expression shifted - fro

That chang

nzo exchan

venge and damage con

e finger to your f

neck then smirked.

ed like gun oil an

h the low industrial lights. Around him, his inner circle moved with measu

. Floor layouts. Security grid. Ventilation routes. Vault schematics. It

xactly what th

h code, camera feeds, and floor plans. Lines of encrypted firewalls were falling, one after

arms crossed as he watched the l

, scoffed under his breath. "I

gh for jokes. But jokes, in their world, were lik

akable clack of a rifle slide being drawn back echoed through the room like a war drum. He

ldiers moved like phantoms, assembli

ed up like trophies-hand-painted, menacing things m

hiss witho

curled upward, drifting through the tension like a ghost. Shirtless, the tattoo on his arm glistened faintly

ing a finger against the names. "Dirty senators. Fortune 500 criminals. A fucking drug lord who runs half the co

's jaw

guards at each. Front lobby has bulletproof glass and security cameras-I can loop them, but only for twen

e bank's 3D layout. A red countdown

e," Luca said, tossing voice modulators onto th

didn't

sks and stared down at them-viciou

slipping them over their head

o didn

asked, sliding his own mask half

smirk, eyes still fixed on the b

rown," he said quietly. "I want t

haled.

muttered, typing

," Adriano

ting the side of the armored get

COB

hours, this crew would become the stuff of w

be, co

oors, masked soldiers behind him

ette, blew the smoke into the cold

make fucki

R – CROWN F

rossed the street. Taxis honked.

Bank tellers chatted quietly behind bulletproof

od at their posts,

erfect fu

ti

O

ramed and fortified-burst inward under the fo

ng out like gunfire before

ed beneath the tinted skylights as if the devil himself had walked through the front doors with a vendetta to settle. The serpentine tattoo coi

FUCKING GROUND!

ained down as panicked gasps turned into full-bodied screams. Employees and customers ali

ldiers from I Cobra Re-each in full tactical gear, voice modulators muffling comman

d your head! DO IT NOW OR I SWEAR

pping on someone's briefcas

etproof glass, pressed the barrel

meras, La Rosa Ne

hole goddamn world to

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