บททั้งหมดของ THE BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS : บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

Palermo breathed like a wounded beast beneath the night sky. The narrow streets glimmered with wet stones, reflecting the heartbeat of the city in streaks of red and gold. The old churches were silent, their bells mute, watching from the shadows as sin painted the night.Tonight was not a night of silence.It was a night of blood and celebration.Luce Rossa Nightclub pulsed like a living organ in the center of Via Roma, its red neon light beating against the darkness. Luxury cars lined the street, engines silent, guards standing like statues carved from stone. From the moment someone stepped inside, they were swallowed by heat, bodies, perfume, smoke, and the wild energy that came from men who lived one breath from death and celebrated as if each night were their last.The Vikings ruled tonight.Their victory roared through the walls, shaking the club from its foundation. A shipment worth millions had crossed continents without losing a single crate. The lieutenants were drunk on triu

“THE SHADOWS OF POWER”.The city never slept. Palermo throbbed like a living wound, the hum of engines, the hiss of tires on wet stone, and the clink of glasses from hidden clubs blending into a symphony of tension. The night was thick with rain, sharp with the scent of iron and smoke, and Lucia Romano felt it press against her skin as she walked the halls of her palazzo.She had ruled her world once with iron and fire, a Queen feared by every man in the underworld. Now, with the child asleep in the next room, the walls seemed to close in around her. The whispers were louder, sharper, slicing at her resolve.Enzo Santoro waited in the shadows of the sitting room, his rugged face pulled tight with worry. He had watched the city shift under her absence of care, noting the subtle cracks that whispered of weakness.“They talk, Lucia,” he said, voice low, almost swallowed by the storm outside. “They say your son is a curse, not a legacy. They see you falter.”Lucia poured herself a drink,

FIRE AND BLOOD The night hit Palermo like a fist. Rain spattered against the palazzo’s shutters, mingling with the scent of smoke and gunpowder. Lucia Romano moved through the halls with the practiced grace of someone who had lived a lifetime among predators, but tonight, the predators were coming to her.The first shots rang out like the cracking of a whip. Metal screamed against metal as bullets shredded the reinforced doors. Enzo Santoro and a handful of loyal lieutenants leapt into action, dragging the boy from the nursery as chaos erupted around them.“They’re inside!” Enzo barked, firing a shot through a door that had already been splintered by a high-caliber round.Lucia’s pulse pounded in rhythm with the gunfire. She grabbed a pair of pistols from the cabinet, cold steel burning her palms. Every sense screamed danger. Every shadow could hide death.The attackers moved fast, masked and armed with military precision. They had studied her holdings, learned the weak points. They

Lucia woke to a sound she could not immediately place. It was not the familiar groan of the wooden beams or the low rumble of the night winds that often swept across her home. This sound was wet, sharp, and broken. It was the kind of sound that felt like it did not belong in a living place. A muffled moan. A choking gasp. Something dripping. Her heart leapt violently. She swung her legs off the bed and stood so fast the room tilted. Instinct kicked in. She did not call for Enzo. She did not grab the candle stand. She moved with the silent precision that had been beaten into her bones during the brutal years of training. Her only thought was her son. Her steps were light but fast. She pushed the door of her son’s room open and gasped softly. Enzo was there, slumped under the crib. One hand rested on the wooden frame as if he had fallen asleep guarding it. His other hand gripped a dagger, its blade reflecting the faint moonlight that seeped in. His head was lowered but Lucia knew Enz

Night returned to Palermo with a heavy stillness, the kind that settled deep in the bones. Lucia lit only one candle in her room. Its flame flickered, restless like her thoughts. Her son had finally fallen asleep after hours of intense training. Enzo had collapsed in the hallway chair, dagger resting loosely in his hand, guarding them even in sleep. The entire house breathed in quiet exhaustion. Lucia brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and exhaled. The day had been long, tense, and filled with questions she did not want to face. A soft tap broke the silence. Not on the window. Not on the door. Inside the room. Lucia froze. Her eyes snapped to the left. Vanguard stood in the shadow beside her wardrobe. He had not opened a door. He had not made a sound. But he was inside her room, watching her as if he had been standing there for minutes. Lucia’s spine straightened instantly. What are you doing here? Vanguard stepped out of the shadow, his presence swallowing the room.