Mixed blood

Chapter 30: I bleed so you don't have to

The sharp trill of his phone tore through the early silence.

A groggy curse left his lips as William blindly reached across the sheets—cold sheets. Still no Luana. He grabbed it, squinting at the screen through half-lidded eyes.

Caterina.

"Still in Russia?" he asked.

"No," came her clipped response. "I landed an hour ago. I'm at the penthouse."

William sat up immediately, the sleep yanked from his body. "What's wrong?"

"I've got something. A lead. The Russians are moving weapons through the Romanian border, disguised as medical aid. I got it confirmed three hours ago. I already uploaded the files to the shared drive, you'll need to decode the manifest—"

That was big. But not earth-shattering.

"Cut to the part that made you call me at 2 a.m."

A pause. One long enough to made his stomach twist.

"Will, I caught him. Red-handed."

He blinked. "Caught who?"

She said it carefully, like each word was a fuse she didn't want to light too fast.

"...I caught your brother trucking with them."

"My what?" he said slowly.

"Sixteen—no, seventeen now. Dirty blond hair. Green eyes. Sharp jawline like yours. Smart-ass attitude."

"He's supposed to be at school."

"He's not. He was tailing a group of Russians. Undercover. Smart kid, reckless as hell."

He stood, running a hand down his face, breath shallow. "Where is he now?"

"I brought him here. He fell asleep. After I threatened to rip his spine out."

A bitter laugh escaped him despite himself. "You always had a way with kids."

"You gonna come or should I start training him myself?"

Click.

William didn't respond. His mind was already racing. His little brother. The one he swore he'd keep out of this world, out of the blood-soaked life that consumed everything it touched.

---

William's car rolled to a slow stop in front of the sleek glass building. The sky was still dark, not quite morning but no longer night—just that quiet hour where the city held its breath.

Caterina was directing two security men, pointing toward a discreet alley across the street.

"Secure that corner, and make sure the cameras on the east side are wiped clean."

The moment her eyes landed on William, they lit up with warmth. "Will."

He barely had time to prepare before she strode over and wrapped her arms around him. "Damn, it's been forever."

He gave her a brief pat on the back before pulling away. "Cat," he muttered, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You still cling like a koala."

She laughed. "You still smell like gunpowder and espresso."

"That's mafia cologne."

She nudged him lightly. "Should sell it. 'Eau de Paranoia.'"

They shared a laugh, a rare kind—one rooted in long nights, shootouts, and the kind of trust only built over years of bleeding side by side.