Chapter 24%
1 backed up. Let her see the full image. She looked ridiculous And powerless. And perfect.”
She tried to laugh, but it caught in her throat “They’re just children. They don’t deserve this. They haven’t done anything to you*%
I circled her like a shadow
“No, they haven’t And that’s why they’re still alive. That’s more mercy than your husband ever gave my family”
She crumbled against the wall “Please. Dons Please Just let the twins go I’ll tell you anything I’ll give you Lester’s location Just don’t hurt them: Don’t turn them into this this war”
1 crouched, real slow, eye to eye
“They were born into this war the second you let their father sign my death warrant. You played house while he buried people alive“%
Loisa sniffled Mascara running even though she wasn’t wearing any
“He’s not even in the country He’s in Corsova. He’s got new papers. New name I swear to God, he changes safehouses every few days. But the last I knew he was staying in the old wine estate. The one with the red vines. South coast.”
She was sobbing now Her voice hitched, weak and broken
“I told you I told you everything Just don’t raise them to hate the world. They’re just boys.“%
I stood, slowly Smoothed my gloves S
“They’re your boys, Loisa Which means they were born with venom in their mouths.“W
She grabbed my leg Literally dropped to her knees and grabbed at my pants like I was her last prayer
“I’m begging you Don’t do this.“”
And I just stared at her
“Beg louder. Maybe God’ll hear you this time.“W
Then I turned to my guards M
“Lock her in Strip the lights. I want her to feel the same darkness I did. Feed her every two days. Just enough to remember the taste of
survival “B
As they dragged her away screaming, I adjusted my cuffs.
Lester had no idea what was coming.
But he would
By the time I was done, even hell would refuse him entry,
The Corsovan estate had the stench of old money and rotting vines. Whatever beauty it once held had been devoured by time and blood. The air tasted like mildew and ghosts.
Lester thought he could hide here. Thought the underground tunnels would keep him safe. Thought mercenaries with accents and hollow. eyes could hold off my family.
He forgot who the hell we were.
Matteo and Enzo didn’t waste time. My brothers moved through the estate like vipers–clean, quiet, no theatrics. Just sharp steel and silencers. They took down the guards before their radios even clicked.W
Gunshots were muffled by the velvet dark.
I moved through the main hall, stepping over bodies like broken furniture. The chandeliers were still swinging when I passed under them, blood on the walls like some macabre fresco. The bastards tried to hold the second floor. Matteo set the staircase on fire. Said he didn’t like climbing anyway.%
I found Lester’s room last. Back of the west wing. Locked, but not bolted. The kind of panic you only hear in a man’s breath when he’s running out of exits.
The door creaked open.
He was gone, of course. Slipped through a hatch in the floorboards, left in a hurry. But he didn’t make it clean.
Blood smeared the edge of the trapdoor. Drops, then streaks. One of his arms or legs–maybe both–were hit.#
I followed the trail only halfway. Let my brothers track the rest. I stayed behind.
Because on his desk, left like an offering, was his journal
Leather–bound, rough edged, still warm from his hands. I flipped it open, careful, slow.
The writing was deranged Scrawls, for pages, half–crossed names. Obsessions, delusions. He wrote about my father like a lover. Jealousy pouring from the ink. How he wanted to be him. How he wanted me to beg him the way people once begged the Rosinnis
He thought legacy was something he could steal. Like a crown left in the mud./
I closed the book. Didn’t need to read more.
He’d already written his own eulogy.
We found Edmund in Istanbul Hiding like a snake in white sheets and plastic tubes.
– Ahmes sh gut
