Chapter 4 - Bloodline BetrayalDamian sat up in the casket like a nightmare rising from the grave.
Before Julian’s bodyguards could even turn around, Damian whipped a suppressed pistol from beneath his formal suit jacket and fired four quick shots.
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
The four guards guarding the entrance collapsed instantly, blood pooling on the chapel floor.
Julian spun around in absolute horror, his face turning as white as a sheet. “Impossible! You were dead! The EMP pulse was programmed to kill you at 8:00 PM!”
Damian stepped out of the casket, his boots hitting the floor with heavy, deliberate thuds. Despite the weakness racking his body, his presence was overwhelming.
“You always were impatient, Julian,” Damian said, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. “You trusted Vance’s technology. But you forgot the most basic rule of our father: never trust a device you didn't build yourself.”
Julian scrambled to pull his gun from his holster, but Viktor stepped out from the shadows behind the altar, aiming his sniper rifle directly at Julian’s chest.
“Drop it, Julian,” Viktor ordered coldly.
Julian froze, his hands trembling violently. He dropped his gun to the floor, backing away until his spine hit the chapel doors.
“Damian... brother... please,” Julian stammered, his arrogance vanishing in a second. “It wasn't my idea! The Russian syndicate—they threatened me! They made me put Vance in your inner circle!”
“Liar,” Damian said calmly. He turned his head toward Lila, who was standing beside me, clutching her rabbit. “When my young friend here touched your wrist, she felt your pulse racing. Not from fear, Julian. But from excitement. She knew you were lying before I even opened my eyes.”
Julian looked at Lila with pure hatred. “That deaf brat... you tricked me using a maid’s broken child?”
The moment those words left Julian’s mouth, Damian’s expression turned utterly lethal.
In a flash, Damian closed the distance, grabbed Julian by the throat, and slammed him against the heavy iron doors. The sheer impact echoed throughout the entire basement.
“She has more honor in her small finger than you have in your entire body,” Damian growled into his brother’s ear. “You tried to murder me in my own bed. You compromised our family’s empire for cheap power.”
“Damian... don't...” Julian choked out, his eyes bulging as Damian’s grip tightened.
“I won't kill you tonight, brother,” Damian whispered darkly. “Death is too clean for a traitor. Instead, you are going to give me the access codes to the Bratva’s vault in downtown Baltimore. And then, you will watch me burn your rebellion to the ground.”
Damian slammed Julian’s head against the door, knocking him unconscious. Viktor immediately stepped forward with heavy zip-ties, binding Julian’s hands and feet.
Damian stood there, breathing heavily, his hand pressed against his own chest as the physical strain caught up to him. He stumbled slightly, leaning against the wall.
I ran forward, placing my shoulder under his arm to steady him. “Mr. Volkov! You’re pushing yourself too hard! Your heart can’t take this!”
Damian looked down at me, then at Lila, who walked over and gently pressed her small hand against his leg, signing: Brave.
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Damian let out a weak, breathy laugh—the first genuine smile I had seen on his face since I entered Grayhaven House.
“We have six hours before Vance notices Julian hasn't returned,” Damian said, looking into my eyes. “Elena... get your daughter ready. Tonight, we take back the city.”
