Page 16 of The Mafia Bloodline
The air in the room changed. Cold, the air heavy.
Roman’s jaw clenched so hard I could hear the crack of his teeth. “He’s in our city?”
“Apparently,” I said. “And not quietly. He’s making sure people know he’s here.”
Lucien’s knife stopped spinning. “That bastard has a death wish.”
Viking’s chair scraped violently against the floor as he stood, fury rolling off him like heat from a fire. “He didn’t ask permission. He didn’t even fucking announce himself.”
Draugr stepped into his path as Viking’s fists slammed down onto the table, making the maps jump. “Brother…”
“Don’t ‘brother’ me,” Viking snapped, eyes burning bright with barely restrained rage. “He knows the rules. He knows Roman’s law. No one, no one, sets foot on our territory without clearance. Not even blood.”
“He’s not blood,” Lucien said coldly, voice like a sharp blade. “He gave that up the day he betrayed Father.”
The room fell quiet for a moment, the weight of that name hanging between us like a Specter.
Roman finally spoke, voice quiet but lethal. “He’s back for something. Caesar doesn’t move unless he wants power, or thinks he can steal it.”
Viking paced, his hands flexing like he wanted to break something. “Then why don’t we just go and rip his fucking throat out now?”
“Because we don’t know what he’s after yet,” Roman said evenly.
“Since when do we wait?” Viking growled, spinning to face him. “He’s in one of our clubs, Roman. Sitting there like he’s untouchable. If you’re not going to deal with him…”
Roman’s power hit the room like a thunderclap. “Enough.”
The word wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be. It vibrated through the air, through bone and blood, freezing Viking mid-step.
For a long moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the lights overhead.
Roman’s gaze cut from one brother to the next. “We’ll handle Caesar. But we’ll do it my way. He’s cunning, not reckless. If he’s here, there’s a reason, and I want to know what it is before we make a move.”
Viking’s nostrils flared, his jaw tight enough to split, but he nodded once, sharp and angry. “You’d better be right about this, brother. Because if he’s working with the Irish, or the demons, I’ll burn the city down myself.”
Lucien’s mouth curved in a humourless smirk. “You’ll have to fight me for the match.”
Draugr grunted. “There won’t be anything left if you two start lighting fires again.”
That earned the faintest twitch of a smile from Roman. “Not yet. For now, we watch. Volken, keep your men on him. The second he slips, I want to know.”
I nodded once. “He won’t leave my sight.”
As they went back to discussing plans, I caught the faint vibration of the bond through my chest…Runa, stirring upstairs. The sound of her heartbeat, steady and alive, cut through the noise in my head like a tether.
But as I looked around at my brothers, the sense of unease lingered.
Caesar Dragic wasn’t just a ghost from our past. He was poison. And if he was back now, it wasn’t by chance.
It meant the storm we’d been waiting for had finally come home.
Chapter 7
It had been three days since Volken and his brothers learned that Caesar Dragic was back in their lives.
Three days of tension so thick it settled in the mansion’s walls like smoke. Every night, they left at sunset, their voices low and sharp with plans and curses, returning just before dawn with more blood than answers.
And every day, I woke alone. Until now.
