CHAPTER 34: BACK IN THE BLOOD

Chapter 34

JACE MARINO

I was fine living in the shadows.

My life as a professor was fine.

Coming to class, attending to my students, watching them argue over things that didn’t matter. It was the best kind of peace I could ask for. For a while, it felt like breathing as a human again.

He took that from me.

I still want to believe I have the one person I’ve ever felt something real for.

But he’s been taken from me too.

I thought I had a plan. I didn’t. I’ve lost control.

But I’m not quitting without a fight. I don’t quit. I won’t quit.

My father gave me permission to live as a professor outside the Marino world, but with one condition. That I’d still work from the shadows.

I accepted.

Now everyone’s seen the man who was supposed to stay hidden. The man whose voice carries the same kind of weight as my father’s.

Which means more threats. More enemies.

And more blood to clean up.

Now I’m breathing the Marino air again.

And it smells like iron. Blood.

The nightmares are back too. Worse this time.

Marco moved back into the main house, said he’d keep an eye on me. He sleeps in the guest room, though I know he doesn’t sleep much. He thinks I don’t notice when he checks my door in the middle of the night.

Mateo’s been harder to convince, but Marco’s been pestering him nonstop.

He wants all three of us close again, like when we were kids. Back when things were easier.

They’re not anymore.

"Jace, are you listening to me?" Mateo’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I blinked and looked up. We were in the conference room at the construction site.

The construction company was what my father kept in the limelight, the clean face of the Marino name. Brick and steel to hide everything built on blood and silence.

The hum of work was reaching even here, through the glass walls—the clang of metal, engines rumbling, men shouting orders.

Outside, the cranes moved like slow, tired beasts.

Inside, it was just us three.

"Are you even listening?" Mateo asked again.

"Yes," I said, rubbing my temple.

They didn’t believe me, but neither of them called me out on it.

Mateo leaned over the table, fingers tapping the folder in front of him. "The shipment was supposed to move last night," he said. "Dock 17. Somehow, someone leaked the route before it even left the yard."

Marco was half slouched on the couch, flipping a wrench in his hand like he was bored. "How do we even know it was a leak? Maybe it was just bad timing."

Mateo gave him a look. "Because three trucks don’t ’accidentally’ get boxed in by cops who just happened to be in the area."

Marco whistled low. "Shit."

He’s doing that a lot.

I leaned back in my chair, watching both of them. "Anyone hurt?"

"Just bruised egos," Mateo said. "The drivers were smart enough to ditch the scene before things got messy."

"Good," I said, nodding slowly. "Means whoever’s feeding info hasn’t realized we know yet."

Marco sat up straight, tossing the wrench onto the table with a clank. "You think it’s one of ours?"

"I think it’s someone stupid enough to believe Father doesn’t find out everything," I said. "And before he does, we clean it."

Mateo sighed. "You know he’ll ask questions when he sees the numbers missing."

"I’ll handle him," I said.

Marco grinned. "Big brother’s got it all figured out, huh?"

I looked at him. "You got a better plan?"

He shrugged. "No. I just miss when we dealt with small problems, like idiots trying to scam us on materials. Now it’s federal eyes sniffing around our shipments. Fun times."

Mateo smirked. "You picked the wrong family if you wanted quiet."

"Don’t remind me," Marco muttered, rubbing his jaw.

I stood and walked to the window. Down below, the crew was moving like ants. cranes lifting beams, sparks flying from a welder’s torch. From up here, it looked like order. From experience, I knew it wasn’t.

"This place," I said quietly, "is supposed to be clean. If someone’s using it to move word to the wrong ears, I want to know by tonight."

Marco leaned back, crossing his arms. "You want me to talk to the boys?"

"Yeah. Casually. Keep it friendly. No threats unless necessary."

Mateo looked at me sideways. "Since when do you do friendly?"

"Since I realized fear only lasts until payday," I said.

That made Marco laugh. "He’s not wrong."

The office door creaked, and one of the foremen. Dominic poked his head in. "Bosses, just letting you know the last truck’s out."

I turned to him. "Dominic, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"You’ve been with us... what? Six years?"

"Eight," he said quickly.

I nodded. "Good. Keep an eye on who’s been hanging near the shipment yard lately. New faces, too-friendly faces. You see anything off, you come to me. Not the supervisors."

His throat bobbed. "Of course, Mr. Marino."

He stepped out, and the room fell quiet again.

Marco chuckled. "See? That’s not friendly. That’s terrifying in a polite suit."

I smirked. "If it works, it works."

Mateo closed the folder and stood. "I’ll check in with the warehouse manager tonight. You talk to the trusted ones about keeping their eyes open at the docks. No one outside the circle knows we’re digging."

"Already on it," I said.

As they started for the door, Marco glanced back at me. "You sure you can juggle all this and still play the good son at that dinner?"

He’s been asking too many questions about this dinner. Strange, considering he’s going to be there himself.

I exhaled, long and slow. "I’ve been pretending my whole life. One more night won’t kill me."

Mateo clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. "That’s what you said last time."

"Yeah," Marco added with a grin. "And look how well that turned out."

They laughed their way out, but when the door shut, the silence pressed heavy again.

Through the glass, I watched the men below. Unaware of the rot crawling under everything they built.

The Marino name had walls made of concrete.

And cracks made of trust.

This dinner tonight. I’m locking in, holding steady, and giving them my best.