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23: AMAYA’S POV
publish date:
2026-04-11 17:01:19
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THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 39: BANE’S POV
The rain in Rome was persistent. I sat in the back of my moving SUV and I was far from being at peace: My phone had buzzed three hours ago as I received a frantic, garbled report from a perimeter scout. One of my secondary hubs, a quiet warehouse near the docks that handled "the clean-up" logistics, had been attacked. "Give me the status again," I said. Nathaniel sat opposite me, his face illuminated by the blue glow of a tablet. He looked paler than usual. "Total blackout, Uncle. The internal security feed was cut at 02:00. The external sensors were looped. It was a professional job.” “How so?” “Well, they used high-frequency jammers, silenced entries. We didn't even get a distress signal until someone reported 'unusual silence' from the docks." "Professional," I repeated. "That warehouse was staffed by twelve veteran hitters. How did these people manage 'loop' their sensors without my men noticing." "Whoever did this knew exactly where the blind spots were,"
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 38: ROMAN’S POV
The warehouse sat on the edge of a derelict pier, a rusted skeleton of corrugated iron and broken promises. It was one of Bane Valak’s smaller operations. More of a transition point for high-end narcotics and clean weapons and that was exactly why I’d chosen it. You don't start a war by swinging at the king’s head. No, you start by cutting off his fingers, one by one, until he can no longer hold his sword. The air was thick with the smell of stagnant saltwater and my men moved like shadows through the gloom, killing the enemy, their mission the only thing on their minds. We hadn't come for the cargo. We had come to send a signal. I stepped over the body of a guard whose throat had been opened with surgical precision. He’d died with a look of pure shock on his face. Poor thing should have picked a better side. "Clear!" One of my soldiers shouted from the back of the bay. I holstered my weapon and walked toward the center of the warehouse. The floor was slick
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 37: Roman’s POV
The air in Sicily was too sweet. It tasted of citrus and I inhaled it deeply while my mind ran in different directions. I sat in the back of the black sedan as it wound through the mountain passes, the folded photograph of Amaya Vancouver neatly in my breast pocket.Her father, Victor Vancouver, unfortunately for her was a pathetic creature. A man who had once commanded legions, now reduced to selling his daughter’s life in a damp basement. He talked about "currency" and "legacy," but all I saw was a coward trying to hide behind my shadow while I handled the dirty work he was too afraid to."He’s desperate,Don Roman," my driver, Elias, said, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. Elias had been with me since before the exile. He was the only one who knew where the bodies were buried—mostly because he’d helped dig the holes. He was also the only person that still referred to me as a DON even if I no longer officially held that position.Regardless, I was still a feared man."A de
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 36: Victor’s POV
The safehouse felt smaller now that he was here. Even the walls that was nothing but damp concrete, seemed to sweat under the pressure of his presence. He was just so dominating.Roman didn't sit even when I offered him a seat; He didn't pace either. He simply stood by the narrow, barred window, watching me. He looked like a statue carved from volcanic rock.I watched him from across the table, while my fingers nervously drummed an uneven rhythm against the wood. I had spent my life around dangerous men. I had eaten with them, did business with them, and buried them. But Roman was a different breed. If Bane Valak was a shark; Roman was the deep water itself."You’ve been staring at me for twenty minutes, Roman," I said, my voice sounding thin even to my own ears. "I’m certain I have not annoyed you enough for you to want to kill me."Roman smiled. "I’m not looking to kill you, Don Victor. I just can’t believe you’ve been reduced this low in ranking?" He finally sat, his eyes
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 35: VICTOR’S POV
I sat behind my large desk in Sicily and stared at the grainy, long-lens photograph spread across the wooden table. In all my life, I have never felt more shocked, insulted and infuriated. In the photo, the sun was setting over a private stretch of white sand. A woman stood there, her jet black hair unmistakable even from a distance. She wasn't a corpse in a ditch. She wasn't charred remains in the ruins of Raul’s estate. My daughter, Amaya Vancouver. She was alive. And she was smiling at Bane Valak. "I thought she was dead," I said quietly, my voice a jagged rasp in the quiet room. "I mourned her. I burned a goddamn empty casket for her so the papers would stop hounding me, and all this time, she’s been playing house with this bastard?" Martin, my captain a man whose loyalty was more about lack of options than actual devotion shifted uncomfortably in the shadows. "The intel is solid, Don Victor. He’s been keeping her in the East wing of the Rome estate for months. Thes
THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME 34: BANE’S POV
The Tyrrhenian Sea was a dark, silent, beauty under the moon. It had a healing effect that nothing could ever compare with. I suppose hat was why I’d bought this place. No city noise, no sirens, no filtered reports from captains or underlings. Just the rhythmic crush of salt water against white sand. I stood on the glass-walled deck, a glass of vintage scotch in my hand. Behind me, in the open-concept living area, the soft, melancholic notes of a piano drifted through the air. Amaya was playing a tune. I recognized it from somewhere but I couldn’t place it. I enjoyed the piece all the same. She’d been different since we arrived. The irritated, annoyed young woman had been softened up by a quiet, almost ethereal curiosity. She spent hours walking the shoreline, letting the hem of her white dress get ruined by the brine, looking at the horizon. I heard the piano stop. A moment later, the sliding glass door hissed open. "The wind is changing," she said. Her voice was
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