2025-08-25 21:23:53The flames still raged, but the battlefield had fallen silent. Emilio had retreated into the smoke with what was left of his men, his laughter echoing long after he disappeared. The Romano estate was ruined, bodies scattered across the courtyard, stone walls blackened by fire. But it wasn’t Emilio’s assault that weighed heaviest in the air. It was Luca.
He stood in the center of it all, chest heaving, hands dripping with blood. His eyes glowed faintly in the dark, an unnatural crimson that made even the surviving Romano guards recoil. No one dared come closer. They watched him as one might watch a wild beast that could either collapse or tear them all apart in the next breath. Inside Luca, the war had not ended. His body trembled, veins bulging as the curse screamed louder than ever. His senses sharpened to a point that bordered on madness. He could hear every heartbeat around him. He could smell every drop of blood. His fangs cut into his own lip, tasting the copper tang that nearly drove him over the edge. “Luca!” A voice cut through the haze. It was his cousin Elena, her face pale, her dress torn, but her eyes blazing with defiance. She stepped forward while the others cowered. “Stay back!” Luca roared, his voice no longer human. The sound echoed like thunder, rattling the broken glass in the windows. But Elena didn’t flinch. “You are not a monster. You are my blood. You are a Romano.” Her words struck something deep inside him, but they weren’t enough. His hands clawed at the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. He could barely hold himself together. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe he still belonged to his family, that the curse didn’t define him. But the truth was written in their eyes, fear. Even Elena, though brave, trembled as she approached. He staggered backward, choking on his own breath. The night blurred, the fire’s glow spinning into madness. He remembered Emilio’s words, monster, cursed heir. No throne belongs to you. Maybe Emilio was right. But then, beneath the roar of the curse, another voice stirred inside him. Softer. Older. His father’s voice. Control it, Luca. A Romano bends the world. He does not break under it. The memory burned through his mind, anchoring him for a moment. His fangs retracted slightly, his claws dulling, though his body still shook violently. He dropped to his knees, slamming his fists into the blood-soaked ground. Elena knelt before him, her hand trembling as she placed it on his cheek. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the rapid beat of her pulse. His hunger snarled at him to sink his teeth into her throat, but her touch reminded him of who he was fighting for. “You are not alone, Luca,” she whispered. “We will face Emilio. And whatever this curse is, we will find a way.” He closed his eyes, forcing air into his lungs, fighting to push the monster back. For now, it receded, slinking into the shadows of his soul. But he knew it wasn’t gone. It was waiting. Watching. When he finally opened his eyes, the glow had dimmed, but the stares of his family hadn’t softened. Some looked at him with awe, others with terror. None looked at him the same way they had before. That was the true wound Emilio had struck tonight, not the fire, not the bodies, not even the retreat. He had exposed Luca’s secret. He had planted fear in his own bloodline. And Luca knew fear was more dangerous than any bullet. “Elena,” he rasped, his voice raw, “gather the survivors. We need to regroup before Emilio comes again.” She nodded, though her hand lingered on his face for just a moment longer before she rose to command the others. Luca remained kneeling, staring at his bloodied hands. He had saved his family tonight, but at what cost? Each drop of blood on his skin was a reminder of the truth he could not escape. The Romano heir was no longer just a man. He was the monster Emilio claimed him to be. And monsters could not be kings. Luca has held the curse back,for now, but Emilio has planted a seed of doubt that may destroy him from within.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 182: The Last Dawn
The house was burning.Flames crawled across the old wood like veins of gold, eating through memories faster than I could hold them. Smoke rolled into the night, thick and heavy, carrying the scent of old paper and secrets that should never have survived this long. I stood in the yard with Grace beside me, watching everything collapse.It should have hurt more. But all I felt was a strange calm.The fire was loud and alive, the only sound left after the storm that had raged inside me for so long. I could still feel the echo of the curse beneath my skin, faint and fading, like a wound trying to remember why it ever bled. My father’s voice was gone. The shadows that once whispered his name were gone too.Only the fire remained.Grace’s hand found mine, grounding me. Her fingers were cold, but her grip was steady. She didn’t look at me. She kept her eyes on the flames, her expression unreadable in the light that flickered across her face.“You did it,” she said softly.I didn’t answer right awa
Chapter 181: Echoes in the Blood
Night had swallowed the estate whole. The storm had broken hours ago, but the air still carried the scent of rain and iron. The corridors were silent except for the sound of my boots brushing against the marble floor. Every step felt heavier than the last, as if the house itself resisted where I was going.Grace followed close behind me, her flashlight trembling in her grip. “Are you sure about this?” she whispered.“No,” I said honestly. “But we’ve come too far to stop.”The key I found in my father’s study had led us down into the east wing, behind a wall I’d never noticed before. The plaster had cracked away in places, revealing faint lines—an outline of something that didn’t belong there. When I pressed my hand against it, a hollow sound answered back.I took a breath and pushed. The wall shifted with a soft groan. Cold air spilled out like the breath of something long buried.Grace’s light fell across stone steps descending into darkness.“God,” she murmured. “He built this beneath his
Chapter 180: The Debt That Follows
The walk back to the mansion felt longer than it should have. The forest was quiet behind him, but the silence wasn’t peaceful anymore. It was heavy—like the earth itself was holding its breath. Every step he took seemed to echo deeper than sound, as if the woods were still watching him go.By the time he reached the outskirts of the estate, dawn was just starting to break. The sky was pale gray, with streaks of gold trying to push through the clouds. The old iron gates stood half-open, rusted from years of neglect. The wind moved through them with a soft, hollow sound, like a sigh.Luca paused before stepping inside. The mansion loomed over the gardens, a dark silhouette against the faint light. It had once been a symbol of his family’s pride; now it looked like a memory that refused to die. The windows were dark, the ivy climbing higher than before, wrapping around the stone like veins.He pushed the door open and stepped in. The echo of his boots followed him through the entrance hall
Chapter 179: The Last Hunt
The woods was still.Even the wind refused to move. The faint smell of iron and smoke hung low, clinging to the damp air. Somewhere above, the moon cut through the clouds like a blade, throwing silver over the forest floor.Luca moved in silence, boots sinking into the earth. His breath was steady and controlled. The hunt had begun hours ago, yet not a single sound of prey reached his ears.It wasn’t an ordinary hunt. Not anymore.He wasn’t chasing an animal. He was chasing what was left of himself.Every step carried an echo—footsteps he couldn’t name, whispers that followed him like the wind’s reflection. His father used to bring him to these woods as a boy, teaching him how to read silence, how to listen to what the earth didn’t say. But that memory had long rotted into something darker.Now, the same forest that once meant peace felt alive in another way. Watching. Breathing. Waiting.He stopped beside a fallen log and crouched low, pressing his palm to the soil. It pulsed faintly beneat
Chapter 178: The Curse That Breathed His Name
When I woke, the world felt wrong.The first thing I saw was the ceiling of my father’s study. The same cracked plaster, the same chandelier that never worked, swaying slightly as if it had been touched by wind. My throat was dry, my body heavy. The air smelled of dust and old whiskey.For a moment, I thought I’d dreamed everything—the catacombs, the mirror, the shadow. But when I sat up, my hand brushed against something sharp. Shards of glass.The desk before me was covered in them. Some pieces were clear, others blackened, as if burned from within. My reflection stared back at me from one of the larger fragments, pale and hollow-eyed.I was still here. Still breathing. But the silence in the room was too deep, too deliberate, like the world itself was holding its breath.My hand trembled as I reached for the shard. It was warm to the touch.Then I noticed the mark.Or rather, the absence of it. The place on my wrist where the sigil had burned for years was now bare—smooth, colorless. I sh
Chapter 177: Where the Sun Does Not Rise
The city was still asleep when Luca left the mansion. The morning light had barely begun to break through the horizon, and even then, it seemed hesitant—as if Rome itself feared to wake. The air was thick with fog, curling between the narrow streets like smoke.He walked with his hands in his coat pockets, his mind racing, every sound amplified by the silence. His father’s voice still echoed in his head. Find me where the sun does not rise.The phrase replayed over and over. It didn’t sound like a metaphor anymore. It felt like a direction. A call.He had searched every record he could find in his father’s study before leaving. A ledger hidden inside one of the old drawers had contained a single note written in Vittorio’s handwriting. It was a location. An address, more like coordinates, scribbled beside three Latin words. Ubi sol non oritur.Now those words were leading him toward the southern edge of the city—toward the old catacombs.The deeper he went, the emptier the streets became. T
You may also like
Black Hand Over the Sky
shuo742 viewsReversal Of Fate: From A Pawn To A Mafia Billionaire
Beo854 viewsCROWN OF ASHES
Emí Otunba96 viewsSavage Honor: Blood Oath
Flow420 viewsThe Return of The Gangster Lord; Mark Smith
Eric126 viewsConcrete Thrones: The Making of a Mafia Boss”
dbranch writes66 viewsThe Return of the Mafia Boss
Gbemiè961 viewsNameless District
Nameless Swordman1.5K views