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82: Broken Knees, Broken Kings
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2025-05-02 07:00:53The room was thick with the scent of tobacco and expensive cologne, the kind that settled into leather and power.
It was the kind of space where fortunes were made, alliances were tested, and destruction was decided with a single word.Malachai sat at the head of the long, obsidian conference table, fingers drumming idly against the polished surface.The dim glow from the chandelier overhead cast a golden sheen across the room, reflecting off crystal glasses filled with aged whiskey.Luca, seated to his right, flicked open his lighter, the flame briefly illuminating the sharp angles of his face before he lit his cigarette.He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke coil around him like a ghost before he passed the lighter across the table to Rafael DeSantis. Rafael took it with a nod, his own cigarette already perched between his lips.Aziel Tau leaned forward, sleeves rolled up, his forearms flexing as he tapped a few keys on his t
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THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 108: The Night Hayport Burned
The words felt like a blade, slow and deliberate, slicing through him with agonizing precision. Luca took one step forward. Maria screamed. A sound so full of grief it didn’t seem to come from a living being. She was clutching the surviving twin so tightly now, her whole body curled protectively around him, sobs ripping from her throat. Her face was blotchy, red, wet—her mouth open in soundless wailing between breaths. "No," she kept crying. "No, no, no, no—" Luca dropped to his knees at her side. His hand hovered above her shoulder before he finally laid it there, gently, afraid to break what little remained of her strength. "He was breathing," Maria sobbed. "I felt his kick—I felt him—" "I know," he said, his voice wrecked. "I know." He looked down at the tiny form that Alexei had wrapped in a small cloth, now resting just a few feet away, as if to
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 107: A Mother's Will
Maria was in labor.Premature labor.The rough handling, the stress, the pain—it had pushed her too far. Now, she lay in yet another warehouse, her body wracked with agony as contractions tore through her.The air stank of mildew and metal, and the cold concrete bit into her spine. Her gown was soaked in sweat, her legs trembling uncontrollably. A single camera was set up in front of her, its red light blinking like a silent, soulless eye, transmitting every second of her suffering to the man she needed the most.Luca.Mikael knelt beside her, crouching low, the sharp glint of a pistol pressed firmly against her swollen belly. His expression was calm—too calm. The smile he wore wasn’t one of victory. It was something worse. Something hungry.Luca watched from his phone, his blood running colder than the steel barrel pressed to Maria’s skin. His fingers gripped the edge of the seat, nails digging deep, cracking the leath
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 106: Inferno Below The Docks
The location came faster than expected.Mikael’s underground safehouse. A forgotten ruin buried beneath the skeletal remains of an abandoned factory near the docks—half-swallowed by time, but not forgotten enough.The storm had been building all week.And now?Now it was here.No formal plan. No waiting for recon. No strategy.Luca didn’t want a clean extraction.He wanted blood.He wanted them to feel fear before they died.The convoy of black vehicles pulled to a halt just past midnight, headlights off, their engines growling like caged beasts. Rain whispered against the cracked concrete, a thin mist hanging low over the ground like breath from the city’s rotting lungs.Before his men could speak, before anyone could so much as ask if this was really it—Luca was already walking toward the entrance.Gun in hand.Shoulders square.No hesitation.No flinch.
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 105: A Queen's Will
Maria lay curled on the cold, damp concrete, her cheek pressed into the grit. Every breath stung her lungs. The rope at her wrists had rubbed her skin raw, and the nylon around her ankles cut into the soft flesh beneath her gown. She barely felt it anymore. Just numbness. And the weight of her belly, low and taut, a reminder she could not afford to surrender.Her gown—what was left of it—clung to her with sweat and grime, the thin cotton damp with something she hoped was only water. It barely reached mid-thigh anymore, ripped up the sides, exposing the mottled bruises blooming along her hips and thighs. Her knees had turned violet from crawling.But she didn’t tremble.She wouldn’t give him that.A sharp kick slammed into her ribs, forcing air from her lungs in a sudden gasp.Her arms jolted against her restraints, and her belly twisted violently in response.Her babies.Pain radiated throug
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 104: No Gods, No Kings
A week had passed.Hay Port had turned into a graveyard of whispers and blood.Seven days. That was how long Maria had been gone.Seven days since Luca Avancii last heard her voice, last saw her swollen belly shift with the life they had made together. Seven days since he had gone to war.On the surface, the city was calm. The elite still sipped their wine in tall penthouses, their heels still clicked against marble floors. SpitFire Technologies still thrummed like a well-oiled machine, kept alive by Gina’s iron hand. Maria’s name was still stamped on official documents, her AI assistant still responded to calendar reminders, and her phone sent out polite, automated replies.But underneath it all—beneath the glass, the steel, the polite meetings and silent cars—the city was rotting.Everyone who mattered knew.Maria Avancii, the queen of SpitFire, the heart of Luca’s storm, had vanished.And Luca had d
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 103: A Dirty Secret
Years Ago...The night air had been thick with cigarette smoke and gasoline fumes, a familiar cocktail of danger and decay.Luca had leaned against a rusted lamppost outside a convenience store, the flickering neon lights buzzing like dying insects. His lighter had clicked open and shut in his hand, the small flame flaring before vanishing—much like his patience.Johan had been late.The bastard had been reckless lately, pushing for bigger scores, chasing something faster, richer—deadlier. He had always been the type to reach for more, never satisfied, and Luca had been the one to rein him in. “We’re running in circles,” Johan had complained just days before, sprawled across Luca’s couch, feet propped up on the table. “While these fuckers are making real money, we’re out here hustling for scraps.”Luca had grunted in response, sipping his beer. “Scraps keep you alive, Jojo.”Johan had only laughed, his voice f
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 102: When The Devil Unravels
Luca Avancii had faced death before.He had seen men beg for their lives. He had watched enemies fall at his feet, their blood staining his hands, their last breaths rattling in his ears like whispers from the abyss. He had been a man who had held the world in his grip, a man who made people quake at the mere mention of his name.But nothing—Nothing.Had ever felt as gut-wrenching, as soul-destroying—as this.His wife was missing.His heavily pregnant wife.Maria.The woman who carried his children.His fingers trembled as he clutched his phone, staring at the emergency alert that had flashed across his screen before going completely dead.Her beacon.Her fucking distress signal.It had only lasted three seconds before being cut off.Three seconds.That was all she had before she was taken.Gone.Ripped from him—again.Hi
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 101: The Calculated Game
The day had been going well. At least, Maria Avancii had thought so. She ruled her world with a perfect blend of precision, power, and control. Every room she entered, every decision she made, echoed the authority she’d earned, the empire she’d built. At A√ancii, she moved through the design floor like a storm in heels. The sharp flick of her eyes over fabric swatches, mood boards, and finished pieces left no room for imperfection. Each time her manicured fingers pointed at a sample, it was either approved or discarded without hesitation. She demanded excellence from everyone—and she got it. Then there was SpitFire Technologies. Maria strode through the sleek glass halls, cutting through inefficiency with a razor-sharp edge. A disrespectful employee? Fired on the spot. An inefficient meeting? Ended in minutes. Everywhere she went, people scrambled to keep up, trying to meet her expectations before she shatter
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 100: A Break In Silence
A week later, in the underground testing facility, history was being rewritten. Engines roared to life, the sound filling the cavernous space, but there was no distinct smell of gasoline. No telltale exhaust fumes to cloud the air. The only thing that lingered was the unmistakable hum of progress—a soft purr, steady and unrelenting. The SpitFire Dominion. The SpitFire Cerberus X. The SpitFire Phantom S. Three prototypes. Three legends in the making. All powered by water. Prototype H²O had once been an impossible dream—a fantasy that defied everything the automobile industry had relied on for over a century. It was the breakthrough that everyone thought couldn’t happen, and yet here they were, watching the impossible unfold before their eyes. The promise of a world without pollution, without the need for fossil fuels, was now real. One of the engine
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