The Mafia Princess Return (Talia) novel Chapter 253

**The Man Who Built an Empire from Power—and Tried to Rebuild Me from Ruins by Caden Blake 253**

**Ezra’s POV**

Watching our girl, Talia, lost in sheer ecstasy with Bradley, Kayden, Carter, and Kai had stirred something primal within both Levi and me. The sight was intoxicating, igniting a fire that we couldn’t ignore. It was as if the very air around us crackled with a charged energy, one that promised heated moments ahead. So, naturally, we found ourselves indulging in another steamy encounter with our princess in the shower, just the two of us, the cascading water amplifying the intimacy between us.

Once we all emerged from our showers, refreshed and dressed for the day ahead, we made our way downstairs. Mornings like this filled the space with laughter and warmth, the kind of joy that felt impenetrable. Nothing could dampen our spirits today. The news of Talia’s pregnancy still had us soaring, our hearts buoyed by the prospect of new life. The thought of our little one brought a collective smile to our faces, a beacon of hope amid the chaos.

Breakfast was a lively affair, filled with chatter and shared glances. We savored every bite, but there was a palpable tension in the air. Each of us knew that later, we would have to split into smaller groups for training. Those of us assigned to guard Talia for tomorrow’s mission needed to be sharp—hand-to-hand combat training and shooting practice awaited us.

We pushed ourselves through the training sessions, the hours blurring together until lunch arrived, and even then, we returned to the grind until dinner. Before our evening meal, we took another shower, the steam rising around us like a protective veil, and changed into our tactical outfits.

After dinner, we reconvened in the living room to meticulously go over the plan once more. Talia settled on my lap, her warmth radiating against my chest. My hand rested protectively over her stomach, a silent acknowledgment of the life growing within her. As we reviewed the strategy, I could feel the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. Everyone needed to be prepared for what awaited us tomorrow.

Once our briefing concluded, we decided to unwind with a movie in the cinema room, a brief respite before the storm. The uncertainty of the impending attack loomed over us, so an early night was essential. We needed to rise with the dawn, alert and ready for whatever was to come.

Morning broke, and we found ourselves in the familiar routine of showers and dressing in our tactical gear. The bulletproof vests were a necessary burden—restrictive and cumbersome—but we knew they were our shield against the dangers that lurked outside. As we donned our black cargo pants and tank tops, Talia wore a bulletproof t-shirt, her own protective gear a testament to our commitment to keep her safe. The ensemble was completed with black combat boots, a uniform that spoke of readiness.

As we made our way down for breakfast, it was evident that everyone else had also donned similar outfits. Carter had styled Talia’s hair into a high ponytail, giving her an air of fierce determination that matched the gravity of the day.

We gathered around the table, Talia perched on her father’s lap, and the atmosphere was thick with tension. Each bite felt heavy with the weight of our mission. The air was charged with unspoken fears; we all understood the stakes. This had to be the final confrontation with Cillian—not just for our peace of mind, but for Talia and our unborn child.

From our concealed position, we had a clear view of Cillian’s vehicle. The moment he released Poseidon from the car would be our signal to act. Talia’s gaze shifted to Zeus and Hades, and I could sense a silent command pass between them. They were poised, ready to spring into action at her word.

Then, chaos erupted. The sound of gunfire filled the air, and our earpieces crackled with reports of how many adversaries had been neutralized. Zeus and Hades remained statuesque, their breathing steady, a testament to Talia’s incredible control over them. The rest of us exchanged glances, a mix of awe and disbelief at their unwavering discipline.

Suddenly, Cillian’s car doors swung open, and his guards spilled out, seeking cover behind the doors while returning fire. I watched as Talia positioned herself, retrieving her sniper rifle from Dina’s grasp. Time slowed as she took aim, and with a crack of thunder, one of Cillian’s guards dropped to the ground, a clean headshot.

Talia was relentless, reloading and preparing for the next target. As another guard emerged, pushing aside the fallen body, she struck again, her shot precise. It was a dance of death, and she was the lead.

Then, out of nowhere, a tiger bolted from the car, scanning the area. Talia lowered her rifle, and Theo swiftly took it from her, handing her a handgun. The tension was palpable as we braced ourselves for the inevitable confrontation, knowing that this time, we would not back down.