บททั้งหมดของ BLOOD DEBT: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

Drina’s POVMadrid is quite an early riser, though it does not mind who rises with him. I get up early enough before daylight, as I can no longer sleep due to hunger. My stomach is constantly aching, and the chill of the room is seeping through my skin. I freeze and look about at the broken ceiling of my flat, and I count the spots that I already remember.“Another day,” I say, though nobody is around to hear.The room is tiny and reeks of moist walls and dust. My jacket is pinned on a sawed-off chair, and my shoes are at the door, battered through at the heels. I take my legs out of bed and scratch my face, attempting to push the memory of fire and screaming that I have never gotten rid of, even after all these years. They are easier than others. Today is not one of them.I put water on my face at the little sink, and shuddered at the coldness of the water, and checked myself in the glass. The girl who is looking at me seems weak, almost fragile, with sinking cheeks and sore eyes. My

Dino’s POVI do not shut my eyes on the screen.The recording repeats itself with the same scene in different perspectives. Drina Federico is sitting on a chair with a trembling hand when responding to questions. She glances at the door on several occasions. She even snorts when her life is pressured. She swallows a lot. She shudders when voices become louder.None of it is controlled.None of it is trained.This is no good, I say to myself.Lucas is standing beside me with folded arms. "You think she's acting?"I replay the video repeatedly and see how she responds when my name is called. This terror she fears, but there is something beneath the fear. Anger. Old and sharp."No," I reply. “Had it been an act, she would do it better.”I have requested spies, killers, and snitches over the years. I know what acting looks like. Drina does not plan. She reacts. Her fear is messy and real.Lucas says, "She broke into a secure building. "That takes skill."“When people are desperate, it tea

Dino’s POVMadrid is burning.There is no other way to say so. The city appears to be the same on the outside, the streets are bright, the crowds appear to be carefree, but below all is on fire. My phones keep ringing. Safe houses are broken. Supply lines are cut. There were three attacks within the same hour, and none of them could be considered a coincidence.This is not chaos.This is a message.Marco says, They struck the port again. "Same pattern as before.""Lock it down," I reply. "No one moves unless I say so."I put up the telephone and stare at the window. The smoke is well out into the night sky. Somebody is aware of how my place is constructed. Someone knows my timing. Worse, there is one to know where I am weak.Lucas is behind and says, there is a leak. "This isn't outside anymore.""I know," I answered.This kind of damage by an external foe could not occur so quickly. It was only an insider who could break my empire down bit by bit. I designed this system in order to s

Dino’s POVI did not sleep either.I did not do it very often; however, this time it was not about enemies or money. It was the picture of Drina Federico in my study, trembling and rebellious, demanding power as of right. People begged me every day. They cried. They presented devotion, flesh, silence. She offered conditions.That made her dangerous.In the morning, I was working in the control room on the east wing of the estate. The walls were covered with screens, and each screen displayed another section of my empire: ports, banks, streets, and offices. Madrid is waking up. My city.Lucia was standing next to me with a tablet in her hand. "Are you sure about this?" she asked quietly."She stays," I said. "But she does not roam free."“I guess I should have expected that,” Lucia answered. "How close do you want her?"As near as I can get, and she is still unaware that she is being observed.Lucia nodded once. "Integration protocol?""Yes," I said. "Intelligence only. No field work.

Dino’s POVVittorio liked old places.Places that smelled like leather, smoke, and power that had not been challenged in decades. When I entered his private lounge near Plaza de Oriente, he was already seated, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his posture relaxed like a man with nothing to fear.That alone annoyed me.“You came early,” he said, smiling as if this were a family visit and not a test.“I had time,” I replied, taking the seat across from him. “And questions.”He chuckled softly. “You always do.”A waiter poured me a drink. I did not touch it.“How long has the Montoya account existed?” I asked casually.Vittorio’s hand paused for half a second before he lifted the glass to his lips. Most men would not have noticed. I did.“Which one?” he asked.The one that does not exist, I replied.He laughed at a profound, humorous note. You have been abiding too long with ghosts."Humour me," I said calmly. "Before my patience runs out."He examined me at the edge of his glass. "You're