All Chapters of THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS : Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

THE FALL OF A QUEENThe winter wind bit through the streets of Palermo, rattling shutters and carrying the scent of the sea and smoke. Lucia Romano sat alone in her palazzo, the walls heavy with silence. Outside, the city throbbed with life, but inside, everything was suffocating. She had given birth weeks ago, yet the room felt colder than any night she had endured in the back alleys of the city.The child lay in the cradle, swaddled in white, a tiny, fragile thing that made her stomach twist in anger and fear. His dark hair was like his father’s, his small fingers curling and uncurling, innocent and yet full of a fate she could not protect him from.She hated him already.Not for what he was, but for who he reminded her of. Guerrero Valenti. The man who had vanished without a word, leaving behind a child that carried his name, his blood, and the dangerous potential to claim everything she had built.Lucia stood, pacing the room. The shadows of the chandeliers danced across the walls

THE CITY BREATHES BLOODPalermo’s nights were thick, suffocating, alive with menace. Rain turned the lamps into streaks of fire in the black void. Smoke rose from kitchens, from clubs, from the secret corners where men planned, bargained, and killed without hesitation. And in the center of it all, Lucia Romano moved like a predator wearing the skin of a queen.She had learned the city’s rhythm: when to strike, when to retreat, when to allow chaos to feed her power. Yet now, every step carried the weight of whispers, of judgments, of Palermo sensing cracks in her armor.The boy lay in the nursery, restless as always. At six months, he had become more than a child; he was an echo of Guerrero Valenti, a living spark of fire in a fragile body. Lucia watched him crawl, small fingers grasping the edge of the crib, eyes sharp, alive, aware. Every movement reminded her of what she had lost and what the city might take if she faltered.“Do you see him, Enzo?” she asked, voice low and controlle

Lucia froze.Her entire body tightened like a bow ready to snap. Enzo’s shaking hand pointed toward the far corner of the nursery, where the soft night lamp flickered weakly, casting strange shadows across the torn curtains.“There…” Enzo whispered, voice cracked and thin.Lucia stepped forward slowly, her boots sinking into broken toys and shards of glass. Smoke still drifted from the hallway, carrying the scent of fire and charred wood. Rain tapped against the half shattered window, steady and cold, like a heartbeat reminding her she was still alive.Then she saw it.Her son.Small. Silent.Curled beneath the crib.Sleeping.But not where she left him.Lucia’s vision blurred, not from tears but from a rage so sharp it felt like her blood had turned into knives. She lunged forward and scooped him up, trembling arms closing around the warm little body as if she could fuse him back into her chest.Then she saw the cloth.A piece of red fabric was tied to the child’s tiny wrist.Red.Th

The first rays of morning light slipped through the curtains, brushing across Lucia’s face. Her eyes fluttered open slowly. For the first time in hours, silence surrounded her. No moans. No choking breaths. No bodies collapsing in the dark. Just the deceptive calm of dawn. She stretched, feeling the ache deep in her bones from yesterday’s tension. Her feet touched the cool floor and she rose with a soft exhale. Maybe the night had passed without further danger. She walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside. A face waited for her. Vanguard. Not inches away. Not across the yard. Directly in front of her window. He stood tall, calm, and unblinking, his expression unreadable. His face filled her view so suddenly that any normal person would have screamed. Lucia did not flinch. Good morning my lady. Hope you slept well, Vanguard said with a relaxed smile. Lucia stared back, unimpressed, her silence louder than his greeting. She pushed the window wider and stepped aside.