Chapter 92 Blood at the black river
Carlino’s POV
The gates of Kailen’s estate rose ahead of us like the entrance to a fortress. Black iron. Reinforced concrete walls. Armed guards posted along the perimeter towers.
A kingdom built on fear.
Engines died behind me as our convoy rolled to a stop in the tree line. My men stepped out almost instantly, weapons already in their hands. The cold air carried the faint scent of wet soil and gun oil.
I adjusted the cuff of my black suit. Taking off my blazer, I rolled the sleeves of my shirt. “Positions,” I said calmly.
No shouting. No chaos.
Just obedience.
Men moved through the trees like shadows. Rifles raised. Scopes settling.
Beside me, Niel chambered a round into his pistol with a quiet click.
Matteo stood on my other side, scanning the estate walls through binoculars.
“Four at the main gate,” he murmured. “Two on the tower.”
I didn’t respond. My eyes were already fixed on the guards. For a moment, everything held still. Then—
“Now,” I ordered.
Gunfire shattered the quiet.
Silenced shots cut through the air in sharp, controlled bursts. The guards at the gate dropped before they even understood what was happening. One collapsed over the iron bars. Another crumpled backward onto the gravel.
The tower guards lasted three seconds longer.
Then they were gone too.
My men advanced.
Fast.
Precise.
The gates were forced open within moments, metal grinding as the lock was blown apart. Bodies lay scattered across the entrance. I stepped forward. No rush.
Kings don’t run into battle.
They walk into it.
Niel and Matteo fell into step beside me as we crossed the threshold of Kailen’s estate.
The grounds stretched wide beyond the gate—expensive stone paths cutting through manicured lawns, rows of dark trees lining the drive. At the center stood the mansion.
Tall.
White stone walls.
Balconies overlooking the courtyard.
A palace built for a man who liked to believe he was untouchable.
Gunfire erupted again as Kailen’s remaining guards rushed from the side buildings.
My men met them halfway.
Bullets tore through the silence of the estate.
Bodies fell.
Commands were shouted.
“Left flank!”
“Take the balcony!”
“Clear the yard!”
My army moved like a machine. Disciplined. Ruthless.
I continued walking.
A guard ran from the mansion steps with a shotgun raised. He didn’t make it two steps. Matteo shot him clean through the throat. The man collapsed without a sound.
We reached the front doors.
Two of my soldiers pushed them open immediately, stepping aside as if they were opening the gates of a throne room.
“Don,” one of them said.
I walked in.
The entrance hall was exactly what I expected.
Marble floors. High ceilings. Chandeliers hanging like frozen stars above us.
Expensive paintings lined the walls.
Money.
Power.
Vanity.
Gunfire echoed deeper inside the mansion as my men cleared the lower rooms. Somewhere outside, an explosion shook the building.
One of the demolition teams had started their work. Dust drifted down from the ceiling.
I stepped forward slowly, boots echoing against the marble floor. This place smelled like arrogance. Kailen had built himself a palace. Now I was walking through it.
A sudden movement came from behind me.
A body slammed into my side. Pain exploded near my ribs as a fist drove hard into my stomach. I barely had time to breathe before I turned. The man swung again. I caught his arm. Then drove my fist straight into his jaw.
Bone cracked.
He staggered back but didn’t fall.
Two more guards rushed from the staircase.
One came with a knife.
The other swung a metal baton.
I stepped into them.
The knife came first.
I grabbed his wrist and twisted it. The blade clattered to the floor before my elbow smashed into his throat. He collapsed choking.
The second guard struck with the baton.
It clipped my shoulder.
Pain shot down my arm.
I answered with a punch that shattered his nose.
Blood sprayed across the marble.
Another man rushed me.
Then another.
The hallway erupted into chaos.
Fists.
Gunshots.
Shouts.
Some of my men joined the fight, dragging attackers down and finishing them with brutal efficiency.
One guard lunged toward me with a blade.
I caught his collar and drove his head into the wall.
He slid down the stone like a puppet whose strings were cut.
More footsteps echoed deeper in the mansion.
Kailen’s men kept coming.
But they were losing.
I could see it in their movements.
Desperation.
Fear.
Across the hall, one of my demolition teams planted another charge.
“Clear!” the voices reverberated.
The blast shook the mansion seconds later. A section of the west wing erupted in fire and smoke. Stone rained down. Glass shattered. The palace was starting to crumble.
I stepped over the bodies and continued forward.
Room after room opened around me.
Luxury everywhere.
Red carpets.
Golden frames.
Expensive furniture.
All of it is meaningless.
A throne without a king was just a chair.
I entered the central hall and stopped. For a moment, everything went quiet.
Then—
Footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor. Slow. Unhurried. A figure emerged through the lingering smoke.
Kailen.
He walked toward me with that same smug smile I’d seen a hundred times before. His suit was neatly pressed. His hair slightly disheveled. But the arrogance in his eyes hadn’t faded.
“Well,” he said casually. “Look who came knocking.”
I didn’t move. My gaze swept behind him quickly. No guards. No Tesoro. The emptiness behind him tightened something in my chest.
“Where is she?” I asked.
Kailen chuckled.
“You marched your entire army to my doorstep,” he said. “And that’s the first thing you ask?” His smile widened. “Romantic.”
My jaw tightened. “Where is Lina?”
He tilted his head slightly. “You’ll never see her again.”
The words hung in the air. Something cold snapped loose inside me. I stepped forward.
Kailen laughed softly. “Oh, Carlino,” he said. “Did you really think this would end with you playing the hero?”
My fist hit him before he finished the sentence. The impact drove him back against the wall. But Kailen recovered fast. His elbow slammed into my ribs. We crashed into a table, sending glass flying across the floor.
He swung again.
I blocked.
Countered.
Our fists collided like hammers. The fight turned brutal within seconds.
No finesse.
No restraint.
Just power.
He slammed me against the wall. I drove my knee into his stomach. He staggered. I grabbed his collar and threw him across the room. Kailen crashed into a chair but rolled back to his feet.
Blood ran from his lip.
Yet he was smiling. “You always did have a temper,” he said.
I didn’t answer. I moved again. Our fists collided. Bones cracked. Furniture shattered beneath us. For a moment, I had him.
My hand closed around his throat and slammed him into the floor. My gun was already in my hand. The barrel pressed against his chest.
Kailen’s breathing turned ragged.
For the first time—
Fear flickered across his face.
Just then—
Something clattered across the floor behind me. A canister rolled past my boot. Smoke exploded into the air. Gas. Within seconds the room filled with thick white fog.
My eyes burned instantly. I coughed, stepping back as the gas spread.
“Damn it—”
Shadows moved through the smoke. I aimed blindly.
“Don!” Niel’s voice shouted somewhere behind me.
The fog thickened. My lungs burned with every breath. Slowly—the smoke began to thin. I looked down. The floor where Kailen had been lying was empty.
My eyes scanned the hall. Broken furniture. Blood. Debris. But no Kailen. He was gone. I turned sharply.
Footsteps rushed toward me.
Niel appeared through the haze, his expression tight.
“Don—”
“What?” I responded, irritation, anger creeping into my voice.
“Your father was taken.”
The words landed—and for a second the entire mansion seemed to go silent around me.
Of course it was him.
Kailen.
My jaw tightened slowly as the truth settled in my chest like ice. A diversion. Lina is gone. Gas in the hall. And now my father is taken.
Not panic.
Not shock.
Just a cold, rising certainty.
I wiped the blood from my lip with the back of my hand and let out a slow breath, my gaze hardening as I looked toward the shattered corridor where Kailen had vanished.
“So that was your game,” I muttered quietly.
Then my voice turned colder.
“Run while you can, Kailen.”
Because now—
this wasn’t a war anymore.
It was a hunt.