chapter 4: blood has a price

MARA's POV

The ledger lay open beneath my trembling fingers.

Millions had vanished from the Blackwood family trust. Money meant for Dante’s daughters had been transferred into shell companies, then used to purchase weapons, ammunition, and shipping equipment.

At the bottom of the final page were two letters.

R.V.

Rafael Voss.

I had heard the name before. Even in military circles, men spoke of him carefully. He was the kind of criminal who preferred watching others bleed while he counted the profits.

A floorboard creaked behind me.

“You should have stayed in your bedroom.”

Vivienne stood in the doorway, dressed in silk, her expression almost bored.

I closed the ledger. “You've been stealing from your brother's children.”

Her smile vanished.

“Careful, Mara. You are a wife in name only. Don't mistake a marriage certificate for power.”

“Then why are you frightened of what I might find?”

She slapped me.

My head turned with the force of it.

For a moment, the room went quiet.

Then I looked back at her and smiled.

“That's the last time you touch me.”

Vivienne's eyes hardened. “You think you're strong because you can throw a punch? This family destroys women like you.”

“Perhaps you should ask the women who survived.”

I stepped toward her.

She stepped back.

That frightened her more than my words.

“You have no idea what you've walked into,” she whispered.

“Then explain it.”

Instead, she reached for the ledger.

I caught her wrist.

Her nails dug into my skin. I twisted her arm away and released her before the confrontation became a full fight.

“Where is Rafael?” I demanded.

The color drained from her face.

That was my answer.

Before I could question her again, the lights went out.

A gunshot thundered somewhere in the east wing.

Vivienne stared into the darkness.

For the first time since I had entered this cursed mansion, she looked genuinely afraid.

Then she ran.

I heard hurried footsteps, followed by the distant crash of a door.

I snatched the ledger and raced toward the children's bedroom.

VIVIENNE'S POV

This was not how the night was supposed to unfold.

The men I had hired were supposed to frighten Mara. Break a few windows, fire some shots, perhaps leave her with a wound she would remember.

They were not supposed to shoot inside the children's wing.

I seized my phone and called the security chief.

“What have you done?”

His breathing was ragged. “The woman fought back. We have men down.”

“Then finish the job!”

“Madam, these men aren't ordinary intruders. Someone has given them the estate's internal layout.”

My stomach tightened.

I glanced toward the dark corridor.

Someone had betrayed me—or Rafael had decided to remove every loose end, including me.

The phone vibrated against my ear.

Rafael.

“What is happening?” I hissed.

“Your little problem has become expensive,” he replied coldly. “Get the records before she leaves.”

“And the children?”

A pause.

“Do I need to explain priorities to you?”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

I hated the way he spoke to me. One day, when Dante was dead and his empire belonged to us, Rafael would learn that I was not a woman he could command forever.

But tonight, I needed him.

“Get your men out,” I said. “If Dante returns and finds bodies in his daughter's bedroom, we are finished.”

Rafael laughed softly.

“Then pray your brother arrives too late.”

The call ended.

I stared at the black screen.

Outside, gunfire erupted again.

And somewhere in the darkness, Mara was still alive.

DANTE'S POV

The bullet shattered the window beside my head.

I dropped behind the vehicle as my men returned fire.

Three attackers had blocked the road. Two more were firing from the trees.

“Right flank!” I shouted.

My bodyguard, Luca, rushed forward and fired twice. One attacker collapsed behind the roadside barrier. Another stumbled into the open, clutching his chest.

I took the third man down myself.

When the shooting stopped, the road smelled of gunpowder and blood.

I crouched beside the wounded attacker and gripped his collar.

“Who sent you?”

He spat blood onto the asphalt.

“Go to hell.”

I pressed my pistol against his forehead.

“I'm already there. You simply chose the wrong road.”

His eyes flickered toward my car.

My phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number appeared.

YOUR WIFE IS ASKING QUESTIONS, DANTE.

Beneath it was a photograph of Mara entering the east corridor of my mansion.

I studied her face.

Beautiful. Defiant. Completely unaware that marrying me had placed a target on her back.

Or perhaps she knew exactly what she had married into.

“Get the cars moving,” I ordered.

Luca glanced at the wounded men. “And these?”

“Leave two men to secure the scene. The rest come with me.”

“Home?”

I looked at the photograph again.

“Now.”

MARA'S POV

The first man burst into the children's room with his weapon raised.

I threw the lamp.

It struck his face. His gun discharged into the ceiling as I slammed into him, driving him against the wall. I tore the weapon away and struck him across the jaw.

He dropped.

The second man appeared behind him.

I fired once.

He fell backward into the corridor.

Sofia stood frozen beside the bed, her little sister pressed against her.

“Move!” I commanded.

Sofia grabbed Lia's hand.

I dragged open the concealed panel behind the wardrobe and ushered them into the narrow passage.

Behind us, boots thundered closer.

A bullet punched through the wood beside my head.

I fired back, forcing the attackers to take cover, then pulled the panel shut.

Lia was crying silently.

Sofia stared at the blood soaking my sleeve.

“Are you going to die?”

I knelt before her.

“No.”

“You promise?”

I looked into her frightened eyes.

“I promise I'll fight like hell to get you both out of here.”

We hurried through the passage toward the hidden records room. The ledger was tucked beneath my jacket, its stolen accounts pressed against my ribs.

At the far end, a small red light blinked on a recording device.

Someone had been watching the room.

Then a voice echoed through the passage.

“Check the lower level. The woman has the evidence.”

I raised my pistol.

The girls stood behind me.

I had no idea whether Dante Blackwood was alive, dead, or coming home.

But whoever had sent these men had made one fatal mistake.

They had come for the children.

And they had come for me.

They were about to discover that blood was the one price I never paid without collecting in return.