Page 23 of Siege of Blood and Betrayal

And why should she? I broke her trust in the most intimate moment we ever shared and will spend the rest of my life wishing I could go back and handle things differently.

I’d fall on my knees and worship her.

I’d explain that I am a vile beast with violent cravings and what I crave most of all is her. But despite the gifts of mental manipulation of my family and the skills of witches in the world, there is no going back.

This is where we are now…drowning in the bitterness of grief and rage. My father is dead, Bran is dead, and the loyalty of the Toronto seethe is in question. I have no time to mourn, no time to grieve—I need to act.

Sitting at the desk, I continue to scroll through the security video from my family compound. The images before me are a sequence of snapshots into the horrors of the day, each frame a fresh assault on my senses.

My father’s proud figure lying headless in his private chambers is an image burned into my mind. Bran’s demise, a direct result of his bond with my father, only deepens the chasm of loss.

I search backward through the footage, looking for answers. The timestamp ticks away, showing me the events leading up to the coup. Unfamiliar figures move through the hallways of my home, and I save screenshots to identify the turned vampires responsible for the attack.

But who helped them?

Who opened the gates and let the traitors in?

My fingers fly over the keys, scanning through the feeds from different angles, different rooms. Finally, I find what I’m looking for.

“You motherfucking traitor.”

Benoit, a cook from Montreal, first brought on staff for the spring solstice event, snuck three thugs past the guard during the weekly deliveries.

They took out the guard, opened the door, and just like that, fake fangers hemorrhaged into the compound like cockroaches.

The sting of betrayal spears me like a blade.

I place Benoit’s image at the top of the list of the men who will die for the crime of killing my father. They will drown in their own blood. Every single one of them.

As much as I burn for vengeance, with my father gone, I must assume control of the seethe and the vast network of businesses that sustain it.

The Toronto seat of power is a multi-billion-dollar machine, handling everything from shell companies and legitimate downtown rental contracts to controlling the blood trade and trafficking of enchanted objects and relics.

Many enterprises are legitimate, while others are fronts for our more lucrative, illegal ventures. Well, illegal based on human laws and moral standards.

Either way, I need to retain control.

I continue to scan through the files on Bran’s private server and my heart stops when I find a couple at the bottom of the list labeled with our names on it. There’s one for Huntley, Scotland, and one for me.

Double clicking, I open the one labeled ZANE. A video with my father’s face frozen in the first frame opens and a sob escapes my throat. I take in the mixture of pride, love, and sadness in his eyes. Swallowing past the lump lodged at the base of my throat, I click the mouse to play.

“Zanipolo, if you’re watching this, then something has gone terribly wrong. First, know that I love you, son. More than words can ever express.”

I swallow hard, my throat tightening as his words wash over me.

“I believe in you, Zane. You have the strength and wisdom to lead our people, to protect them and guide them through whatever dark times have hit home. You are my legacy, and I have no doubt you will do me proud. Make them pay, son, for denying me the honor of watching you marry and raise a family of your own.”

His voice wavers slightly, as sadness clouds his gaze.“Fill the halls with children, l’uomo. It is my one regret. Your mother and I dreamed of a house full of laughter and love. You should’ve had siblings. Then we wouldn’t have been such an easy target for upstarts looking to claim a seat of power.”

I blink back the tears threatening to fall. My mother’s death in childbirth left a void in our lives that my father never filled. He never moved on, pouring all his love and hope into me. And now, he’s gone too.

“Be strong, my son. And remember, you are not alone. If you show them strength, our allies will stand with you. Trust in yourself. You have everything you need to succeed. I have faith in you.Ti voglio bene, my boy. Always.”

The video ends, and I’m left staring at the screen, my mind and heart a maelstrom of emotions. My father’s words resonate deep within me, fueling the fire of my resolve.

I will make them pay.

I will avenge his death and ensure that his legacy lives on.

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