2026-09-30 21:20:59
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Chapter 173
Marco woke early the next morning with the sun already bright on the curtains. He lay still for a moment and noticed that he felt rested, and that the stiffness in his arms had faded to a dull ache. He rose, washed his face, and put on a plain black shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow and a pair of dark trousers that he kept for training. He did not bother with a coat. He drank a cup of strong coffee standing at the window, ate two slices of bread without sitting down, and left his room with the gun at his hip and a pair of leather gloves tucked into his belt.The training room was in the east wing of the house, at the end of a long corridor on the ground floor. It was a large and solid place with thick walls, and Marco had built it years ago when he realized that he could not think clearly unless his hands were busy. The door was heavy and padded, and it opened with a soft hiss. Inside, the air was cool and smelled of oil and gunpowder and clean metal. A row of bright lamps hu
Chapter 172
The house inside was warm and quiet when Marco came in. A single lamp burned in the hall, and a faint smell of roasted meat drifted from the kitchen. He pulled off his gloves, dropped them on a side table, and climbed the stairs slowly, feeling the stiffness in his legs for the first time in hours. The long drive and the tension of the road had worn him out more than he wanted to admit. His shoulders ached, and his eyes were heavy, and the sore muscles in his arms reminded him that he had spent two hours in the dungeon that afternoon.In his bedroom he took off his coat and hung it carefully in the wardrobe. He unbuckled his holster and laid the gun on the bedside table where he could reach it, and then he walked into the bathroom and turned on the taps. Hot water poured into the large white tub in a loud, steady rush, and steam rose in soft clouds toward the ceiling. He added a little oil from a glass bottle on the shelf, something the maids kept there that smelled faintly of pine, a
Chapter 171
The convoy reached the river road a little after ten o’clock. The mist had thinned by then, and a pale moon hung above the trees, throwing long silver lines across the water on the left. Luca drove the lead car at a slow and steady pace, and the cars behind him followed in a tight row, with their headlights low and their windows rolled halfway down. Every man in the line was awake and watching. Some of them had their guns resting on their knees, and others held them against the door frames, and nobody spoke above a whisper.Marco sat in the back seat with his hands resting on his thighs. He did not lean toward the window, and he did not look anxious, but he kept his eyes moving over the dark shapes of the trees as though he were reading a page. Fenris drove with both hands on the wheel and his shoulders square. Now and then a small sound came from the radio on his collar, a short word from the car ahead, and he answered it in a low voice without taking his eyes from the road.They pas
Chapter 170
Marco could not stop looking at him for a moment. The road lights slid across Fenris’s profile at regular intervals, one pale flash and then another, and each time Marco saw the same steady jaw and the same careful eyes fixed on the road. A grin began to form on his own face. It started slowly, a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, and then it widened, and he could not have stopped it if he had tried. It was an odd feeling, almost unfamiliar. He had not smiled so easily in weeks.“What is it, boss?” Fenris asked, glancing sideways. “Have I done something wrong?”“No.” Marco shook his head, and the grin stayed where it was. “I was thinking that I have never once regretted having you at my side. Not in all the years. Not even on the days when you drove me half mad with your caution.”Fenris blinked, and a faint flush rose into his cheeks. He turned his eyes quickly back to the road and tightened his hands on the wheel. “That is kind of you to say, boss.”“It is not kindness. It is
Chapter 169
The night air felt colder when they stepped back into the yard. The mist had thickened while they were inside, and it lay in a low white blanket along the ground, swallowing the bottoms of the cars and the wheels of the trucks. Brandt’s men were already crowding around the open doors of the warehouse, carrying the caskets inside and calling out to each other in low, excited voices. The sound of their boots and laughter followed Marco and Fenris across the concrete.Brandt walked beside them, talking constantly. He spoke of the weather and the roads, and of the money he planned to make in the coming months, and Marco answered him with short, polite nods. His mind was already half elsewhere. He had been thinking for the last hour about the same question, and it had grown louder the longer he sat at that table. Brandt was a man with contacts in half a dozen ports, a man who bought and sold through many hands. Surely he had heard something, a whisper or a rumor or a stray word at the bott
Chapter 168
Fenris turned off the engine and stepped out first. He closed his door softly, walked around the front of the car, and opened the back door for Marco, keeping his eyes on the men in the yard the whole time. The air was cool and smelled of damp concrete and cigarette smoke. A faint hum came from the lamp above the entrance, and somewhere behind the fence a dog barked twice and went quiet.Marco stepped out slowly. He buttoned his coat with one gloved hand and let his eyes pass over the waiting men, one group after another. Nobody spoke. The younger ones dropped their gaze when he looked at them, and the older ones stood a little straighter, as though they wanted to be seen as respectful. The cigarettes were quietly crushed under boots. Behind him, the doors of the other cars opened, and his own men spread out along the edge of the yard without being told, taking their places with the ease of long practice.The heavy man in the long coat came forward with his arms open and a wide smile
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