Page 150 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

“It’s true then?” I ask quietly, just for him.

Orton’s eyes flash.With what? Anger? Regret?

He turns to address the room, voice carrying to every corner. “I hold in my hand the DNA test results.”

A man near the bar stands. “Read it!”

Another voice, “Show us the proof!”

“Let’s end this tonight,” Iron Jaw Dardan snarls.

Orton unfolds the paper with deliberate slowness. The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Someone cocks a gun, not bothering to be subtle.

“The DNA analysis shows”—Orton pauses, his gaze sweeping the room—”that Luka Zogaj carries blood more ancient and more pure than any living Zogaj.”

Confusion ripples through the crowd. Men exchange glances.

He looks up, face dead serious.

I blink. Stunned.

It makes no sense to them.

It sure the hell doesn’t make sense to me.

“Bullshit!” someone calls.

Orton shakes his head. “A test was run in two different labs. The results are beyond conclusive. His blood carries markers consistent with a direct lineage to The First.”

A beat of stunned silence.

Orton continues, voice rising. “Not just a Zogaj—a direct descendant of the originalkryetarhimself. The First.”

Chaos erupts.

“Impossible!” Gianni pushes forward. “Let me see that paper!”

“How could his mother have—” another begins.

The room teeters on the edge of violence. I stand rooted, as surprised as any of them. This wasn’t the end I expected.

“It’s a trick!”

Orton’s voice thunders above the din. “You question the blood?”

The room falls silent.

Orton is a true believer—everybody knows it. He’s like a fire-and-brimstone preacher, a Crusader clutching his cross on the battlefield.

Orton holds up a fist. “I swear by this ring, a relic preserved for generations in my family. Science confirms what the prophecy foretold!”

Men cross themselves instinctively. Some make the old gesture against evil.

Orton’s face is flushed with fervor. “The true king has been revealed! A bloodline purer than we imagined!”

“It’s not possible,” Florian argues, but his voice wavers. “How could thekryetar’sblood?—”

“Do any of you claim to understand the workings of fate?” Orton’s voice drops and takes on an almost mystical quality. “Do you presume to know how the unseen powers move through generations?”