Page 80 of Influence

For the past week, it felt as though the entire city was holding its breath. Late-night patrols revealed empty streets beneath flickering neon signs, with not even the hum of distant engines breaking the silence.

I sat in my study, staring at the rain-streaked window, feeling my nerves tingle with the sense that the quite concealed something ominous.

My men had searched every narrow alley and broad boulevard, keeping their eyes peeled as they scanned dark doorways and parked cars for any sign of trouble.

Yet they returned with nothing but quiet nods—no suspicious chatter or furtive glances. It was almost as if Moser, with his gruff build and intimidating glare, had retreated from the chaos. Perhaps he was biding his time, carefully plotting his next move, with only his closest lieutenants aware of his whispered plans.

Deep down, I knew that danger was approaching—a reckoning that always followed the seizure of new territories.You couldn’t shift power without a cost, and shaking godfathers from their comfortable seats nearly always ended in violent retribution.

This was even riskier now, especially with women involved, particularly my woman, my wife, my partner—a symbol of defiant strength in a society that still viewed her as fragile.

In our ruthless world, that kind of vulnerability was a mistake that could not be forgiven.

Every whispered conversation among my men echoed the same names, the air thick with rumors. Even Laya, with her sharp eyes, and Avra, whose calm presence commanded respect, were caught in the same tension that gripped Elias.

At night, we gathered in small, shadowy rooms, our voices lowered as we checked every sensor, every camera, and every patrol route around our properties. Avra and Elias spent long hours reinforcing barricades and locking gates, their faces set in grim determination.

Every passing minute only heightened the tension, stretching it like a drawn bow, each silent second marking the approach of an inevitable storm. The quiet around us seemed to convey one message: some of the old family heads still hadn’t realized that the Vitalis family was reclaiming its territory. Even if the new leadership arose from the brothers rather than the sisters, any initial anger would soon yield to a true power struggle.

In our harsh, patriarchal world, the sisters were consistently marginalized and excluded from the brutal contests where men flaunted their weapons and boasted about their exploits. Their exclusion of females wasn’t merely for traditional reasons. Rather, it served as a cruel method to suppress even the faintest hint of ambition.

But those old-school men had a fatal blind spot: they underestimated their female counterparts’ cool precision, relentless determination, and lightning-fast strategic minds.These women were trained in the ruthless lessons of our underworld by their steely father and further honed under Vik’s brutal regime until every move they made became deadly efficient.

Avra’s swift retribution on multiple occasions and her hand striking out like a viper to silence a traitor proved that the sisters wielded a power capable of making even the most hardened patriarchs tremble.

Amidst the immediate dangers, another concern troubled me late into the night—the eerie silence from my brothers. Typically, their requests for money would echo through the office, each issue a blend of legal complications and financial crises that I needed to address with urgent calls to our lawyers and accountants.

Their silence now was as loud as any shouted demand. I recalled the day they crossed the line and confronted my wife; the shock and disbelief on their faces were etched in my memory.

That moment, full of adrenaline and a dangerous mix of admiration and desire, made my heart race. Laya’s barely concealed savagery brought out a darker part of me, something fierce, like a blend of love and raw lust that consumed an untamed beast because she was mine.

I was fascinated by the duality of her nature. She was a relentless warrior in combat, each move calculated and deadly.

However, in private, she transformed into a gentle vulnerability, a striking contrast to her fierce power. In moments of calm introspection, I even confessed that I secretly hoped my idiot brothers had already faced her wrath.

To me, they were nothing more than persistent, annoying obstacles—reminders of familial obligations that only seemed to stir up chaos wherever they went. Rumors began to spread like wildfire in local pubs, carried on the heavy, smoky air of dim,boozy corners where hardened men, usually secretive about syndicate matters, could be heard grumbling about disruptions in our world with every shot of whiskey.

The sound of clinking glasses intertwined with the whispers of discontent in the back rooms of these taverns. Names such as Avra, Cali, and Laya were mentioned with both respect and trepidation. The uneven cadence of these discussions and the cautious looks exchanged over scarred wooden tables signaled that something significant was imminent. More than anyone else, I felt the brewing storm beneath their calm demeanor, poised to unleash chaos on those who dared to underestimate the power of the Vitalis family.

The Vitalis sisters had to confront more than just the stubborn old godfathers clinging to outdated rules. They faced a centuries-old mindset ingrained in nearly every man, a toxic, patriarchal ideology that could not be eradicated with a single move.

You might eliminate every Franco Dimitri you encountered, but another would always rise from the ashes, carrying the same inherited curse of misogyny. Changing that was not something that could be accomplished overnight.

This battle would be long and exhausting, with each grueling day chipping away at entrenched beliefs. Yet, if anyone could succeed, it was Laya and her fearless sisters. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a sting of bitter disappointment whenever I heard my brothers showing signs of resistance. I was determined to shoulder that burden as best I could, stationing my most trusted men around them at every turn, ready to alert me at the slightest deviation. The constant worry about them gnawed at my nerves, compounding an already overwhelming list of challenges.

My anger simmered as I flipped through the morning reports from my accounting team. Every figure and line of profit testified to the success of the estate my father had built, nowmine to run. My father had once seemed almost mythical, effortlessly commanding an empire with daily strategic brilliance.

In the past, I questioned if I could ever measure up to such big shoes. However, reflecting on the difficult choices he made had shown me that, although the path was challenging, it was manageable. I successfully kept the empire thriving, and I believed he would feel proud and impressed by my achievements.

Leaving the stack of reports behind, I strolled down the polished marble corridors in search of my fiercely devoted warrior bride. The rhythmic clicking of my steps blended with the ambient sounds of the building, guiding me toward the kitchen, where lively voices spilled out through the doorway.

“He’s only nodding his agreement because he doesn’t want a bullet in his head,” Cali said, her words echoing down the hall and sending a jolt of anxiety through me.

As I rounded the corner, I found Cali and her sisters gathered around a long wooden table, their expressions serious and etched with worry. I walked over to the coffee maker, poured myself a steaming cup, and let the rich aroma blend with the tension in the air.

“We received a call from one of the regional godfathers,” Avra explained.

I drifted over to Laya. Her presence always grounded me amid the chaos. Leaning in, I kissed the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her lavender shampoo, uniquely hers. Sitting down next to her, I intertwined my fingers with hers.

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