Chapter 3
The Calm Between before the Storm
James
The curious bug inside me keeps me awake all night researching this girl.
“Lina Moretti… daughter to some university professor and a salesman. She seems ordinary enough. Split parents of course, and she’s using her maiden name,” I whisper to myself.
I lean against the chair, stretching my arms. I could have outsourced this job to someone else but I’d rather keep this under wraps.
That is when I realize it’s morning and I hear both Callum and Hunter shouting in the lounge.
“Oh, dear God.” I roll my eyes and dart out of my chair, heading over to diffuse their situation. I rush out of my room, coming to the lounge.
I look at all the men standing here for their entertainment, and that look is enough to make them leave us alone. I’m the leader of the Dragona and I don’t tolerate anyone disrespecting the family like this.
“Get to your duties, now!” I alert them.
Callum and Hunter are about to fight each other, but I stop them before the damage can become anything extreme.
“And I told both of you that she will be with us till her arm heals,” I declare, leaving no room for argument. “After that, we’ll figure out what to do with her. But for now, I don’t want to hear another goddamn word about it. Clear?”
“Hunter.” I turn to him once Callum leaves the hall. “Don’t let this become a problem,” I say. “You made the call, and we’re sticking with it—for now. But if this turns into something bigger, you’re the one who’s going to clean it up. Not me. Not Callum. You.”
After sorting out their catfight, I turn to head back to my room, running my hand through my hair.
God, more than the leader of the Dragona, I feel like a mother to these two.
I watch as everyone falls back into routine. Then I notice as the faint figure of Lina emerges from the staircase, heading towards the hall.
I can’t help but watch her staggering movements.
What is it that Hunter sees in this girl? The chocolate brown hair that falls perfectly around her beautiful face? Or the doe eyes that could soften a heart of stone?
She does seem sufficiently attractive, I’ll admit, though the obsession that Hunter has is beyond me still.
“Maybe I should get her a couple of clothes while she’s here,” I murmur to myself, seeing her wear a hand-me-down from Hunter.
The mansion is quiet, but it’s never really still. The guards outside move in their set patterns, and the low hum of the security system pulses faintly through the walls.
I lean back in the leather armchair of my office and pour myself a drink, even if it is the middle of the day.
It’s been five years since I assumed the role of leader of the Dragona gang.
I still remember the day I got the tattoo on my arm—a blue dragon with a sword piercing its chest—a symbol of the life I chose, or perhaps the one forced upon me.
I clutch my left forearm, the ink closest to my heart, just like Dragona itself.
“Once you join, it is the only thing that should be in your heart,” I recall the words of our predecessors.
Hunter and Callum—I was there when the two of them were recruited over 15 years ago. I have seen them grow from impulsive fresh bloods to refined, dignified leaders of the family.
I look at a photo of them on my desk. The left hand and the right hand of this family—both of them possible competitors for this throne in the future.
Hunter and Callum. The fire and the ice. The impulsive protector and the relentless realist. I’ve been balancing between them for years. This fight was no different.
Callum’s words from earlier still echo in my mind.
“She’s a liability. A problem we don’t need.”
He’s not wrong, but the sharpness of his tone, the anger in his eyes—it’s more than practicality. It’s fear, though he’d never admit it.
Then there’s Hunter. He’s never brought someone like Lina into our world before.
He is reckless, but this is something entirely new.
And yet, when he spoke about her last night and this morning, I saw something in him I hadn’t seen in years.
A spark, a determination that went beyond logic or survival.
Feelings of love? Emotional connection?
The problem is our world has no place for such feelings. I have seen countless lovers perish in this line. Taken hostage, killed as blackmail—the list goes on and on.
I sigh, swirling the whiskey in my glass. It’s always like this, and I am stuck in the middle, trying to keep the scales from tipping too far in either direction.
The three of us have always been a strange unit, bound together by necessity.
Hunter came to us first, a ball of anger and desperation wrapped in a cocky grin.
He was barely more than a kid, full of bravado, but hiding a world of pain.
I remember the first time I saw him fight—wild, unrestrained, but effective.
I was already running with the Dragona family by then, and Hunter’s raw potential caught our boss’s attention immediately.
But it was his loyalty that sealed the deal. Hunter didn’t just fight for himself; he fought for anyone he considered family. He fought like his life depended on it. Because, for him, it always did. Like a true hunter.
Callum was the opposite. Calculated, cold, methodical to a flaw. He didn’t fight unless he had to, but when he did, it was brutal and efficient. He didn’t have Hunter’s fire, but he had something just as dangerous—a mind that never stopped working.
We found him in a fight club of all places. He wasn’t there to prove anything, just to survive. When the Dragona family recruited him, he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t ask questions. He just saw an opportunity and took it.
And then there’s me. The golden boy, as Hunter likes to call me. Polished, educated, the one who knew how to talk to people, how to smooth things over when fists weren’t the answer. I didn’t come to this life out of necessity like they did—I came for revenge.
I take a long sip of my drink, the whiskey burning my throat its way down.
My sister’s face flashes in my mind, and I push the memory aside before it can take hold.
The three of us shouldn’t work. We’re too different, too fractured. But somehow, we fit together. Hunter’s loyalty, Callum’s strategy, my ability to keep them from killing each other—it’s a fragile balance, but it works.
That balance has been tested before. It’s been broken and mended more times than I can count.
But Lina... Lina is something new. She’s testing the balance I’ve fought so hard to establish in a way it’s never been tested before.
I can’t blame Callum for being on edge. He’s seen what happens when we let outsiders get too close. Trust is dangerous in our world, and Callum learned that lesson the hard way.
However, Hunter’s right, too. Leaving her behind would’ve been a death sentence for her, and that’s not something I’m willing to carry despite the fact that I’ve got blood on my hands, too.
I set the glass down, leaning forward and rubbing my temples. My thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I answer.
The door opens, and Callum steps inside, his expression unreadable. He closes the door behind him and leans against it, arms crossed.
“Drinking so early in the day,” he says, though it’s more of an observation than a question.
“It is just a small drink, no harm done.” I shoot him a smile.
He shrugs, but I can sense something cooking in that head of his. “I guess I could use one as well.”
I gesture to the chair across from me. “Join the club.”
He hesitates for a moment before sitting down.
“You were hard on him today,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Because he’s being reckless,” Callum replies. “You know it, James.”
I study him for a moment—the way his hands rest on his knees, fingers tapping in an uneven rhythm.
“You’re not just worried about her being here though, are you?” I ask quietly.
Callum’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t respond.
“I get it,” I continue. “Trusting someone new—it’s not easy. But she’s not the enemy, Callum.”
“She’s a weakness,” he says, his voice hard. “And in our world, weaknesses get killed.”
I nod slowly, understanding his logic even if I don’t entirely agree. “And what if she’s not? What if she’s…”
Callum scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “You’re starting to sound like Hunter.”
I smile faintly, though it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Maybe he has a point.”
Callum shakes his head, but the tension in his posture eases slightly. “You always do this,” he mutters. “Trying to see the best in people.”
“Someone has to,” I reply. “I saw the best in you as well.”
He doesn’t argue further, and we sit in silence.
Eventually, Callum stands, walking away. “We’ll regret this… eventually.”
He shuts the door behind him with a thud.
I let out a sigh, feeling rather unsure of my decisions now.
All of a sudden, there is a buzz on my phone. I set my glass down and glance at the screen. The name flashing across it sobers me up in a snap.
At this hour, I swear to God.
I swipe to answer, already bracing for whatever disaster.
“Yeah?” I bark.
“Sir, we’ve got movement near the west dock,” a voice reports, hurried and tense. “Looks like someone’s scouting it. It might be the Armadas, and they seem to be tracking our incoming shipment.”
Damn it. I rub my temple and then gently slap my face. The west dock is crucial to our operations—losing our shipments there isn’t an option.
“Hold position,” I reply, rising from my chair. “Keep eyes on them but don’t engage until I give the order. I’ll be there soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
The line goes dead and I swing myself into action mode. I’ll be handling this on my own.
If I were to take Hunter and Callum, there would be unnecessary bloodshed, like at the café. Those two can be easy to control in the mansion, but on a mission they’re like hungry wolves.
I grab my jacket, slinging it over my shoulder as I head for the door. The hallways of the mansion are quiet except for the sound of muffled voices echoing from far-off rooms.
Most of the men are already out on assignments or busy with their routines.
As I make my way toward the exit, something catches my eye—a figure lingering near the end of the hallway upstairs.
It is Hunter.
He’s standing outside Lina’s door, his posture tense. His steel-blue eyes are fixed on the light spilling from the room. I make a quick detour, taking the stairs up to where he’s standing.
“What are you doing, Hunter?” I whisper, knowing the answer.
He startles slightly, his head turning toward me with an almost guilty expression. “Nothing,” he mutters, but the way he shifts his weight betrays him.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” I cross my arms, tapping my foot rapidly.
Hunter’s jaw tightens and I think he’s going to tell me to mind my own business. But instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.
“She’s awake,” he says, his voice low.
“And?”
“And… I was just making sure she’s okay.”
There’s something in his tone, something unspoken but heavy. I watch him carefully, noting the way his eyes flick back toward the door, the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides.
“You are a soldier of the Dragona Gang. Or did you forget that in the middle of your guard dog duty?” I mock him to which he rolls his eyes.
“It’s not like that. What if she needs something? Or someone?” he presses on.
“You’re getting attached,” I say quietly, the words more an observation than an accusation.
Hunter shoots me a sharp look, his shoulders stiffening. “I’m not—”
“Hunter,” I say, my tone firm. “I’ve known you for a long time. Don’t lie to me.”
He doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the floor.
Finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what it is, James. I just... I can’t get her out of my head.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I get you, but you and I both know how these things end and it is not pretty.”
“I know,” he snaps, his eyes flashing. “But I can’t just turn it off. It’s like someone opened these floodgates of emotions.”
He trails off, his fists clenching again.
“You don’t have to justify it to me,” I say softly. “But you do have to control it. She’s here because you brought her here, and that makes her your responsibility. And the deadline is until she heals. Once she does, she's out of here.”
Hunter exhales sharply, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yeah. I get it.”
“Do you?” I step closer, my tone firm. “Because this isn’t just about you, Hunter. It’s about the family. About the work we’ve spent years building. If you can’t keep your head on straight, you’re going to land yourself somewhere I can’t save you from.”
He doesn’t answer, his gaze fixed on the floor. After a moment, he nods a small, almost imperceptible movement.
“Good,” I say, my voice softening slightly. “Now, go get some rest. We’ve got enough to deal with without adding this to the mix.”
“Yeah, I understand. But what are you doing? Are you heading out?” he asks me, looking at the jacket slung on my shoulder.
“It’s something about the Armadas at the docks. I’ll go handle it. In the meantime, you try and get over this Romeo behavior,” I tease him a little.
Hunter sighs as his eyes linger on the door. Then, with a reluctant nod, he turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.
I watch him go, my chest tight with a mixture of frustration and unease. I know Hunter better than anyone, and I know this isn’t something he’ll just let go of.
As I turn to leave, I catch a glimpse of movement through the door that’s slightly cracked open. Lina is sitting on the edge of the bed, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her face. She looks tired, her posture slumped. She seems… defeated, as if this is rock bottom for her.
For a moment, I consider stepping inside, asking if she needs anything. But I don’t.
Whatever connection she has with Hunter, whatever impact she’s already had on him, I want no part in it.
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