Shadows of the Vow
She entered his world as prey. Now, she’s learning to bite back.
After her mother’s death, Annabelle Gracia seeks fragile solace in the flower shop—until her father trades her to Antonioni D’Angélo, the ruthless mafia billionaire known as The Shadow King. Nights with him burn with pain, pleasure, and control. His coldness shields a heart hunted by a dangerous fraternity, one that will not forgive tenderness—love is a risk he cannot afford. Yet desire refuses to be silenced. In their world, love is weakness, and weakness could destroy them both.
Antonioni is not just another mafia heir; he is a force who commands the world’s shadows. Beyond the empire most will never see: high-stakes deals in European marketplaces, clandestine arms trades, and the quiet power of a man who moves money, influence, and danger across continents.
Once fragile, she rises. No longer a pawn, she becomes his fiercest ally and mafia queen, his quiet hope. But betrayal is never far, and enemies wait in the shadows. When Nora, the daughter of one of their deadliest rivals, enters their world, alliances shatter, and danger multiplies.
In a world ruled by secrets and scars, can love save them… or destroy them?
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Chapter: Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Eight Homecoming of Ashes and SilkAnnabelle’s POVThe room froze. Conversations halted mid-sentence. Glasses clinked unheeded. Cameras still clicked, capturing the scene, but the atmosphere had shifted.He did not resist. He did not panic. But the sudden intrusion into our carefully orchestrated evening, our triumph, made the stakes suddenly, painfully, clear.I could feel the weight of the past and the present collapsing into one tense, suffocating reality.Antonioni’s hand brushed mine briefly, reassuring, grounding, and I squeezed it back. Then he left a tablet on the table, the screen glowing with a simple message:“You can let Scilla stay. If not for anything, at least, to keep you company.”I stared at it. That was all. No lectures, no debates…just care, measured and deliberate. Even that small gesture carried more weight than words cou
Last Updated: 2026-02-10
Chapter: Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Seven The Valentine’s Morning, The Exhibition Party, and the Return of the Past IIAntonioni’s POVValentine’s morning arrived dressed in gold, but I felt none of its warmth.I had been awake long before the light crept through the windows, cigarette already burning between my fingers, smoke rising in thin, self-controlled lines. Today was not a day for sentiment. By nightfall, I would be locked away again. The system never forgot men like me. It only paused.Annabelle stirred beside me.I waited until her eyes opened fully before I spoke. This conversation required clarity, not sleep-softened emotion.“Before the end of today,” I said quietly, “I’ll be locked away again. There are things you need to know.”She sat up slowly, already bracing herself. I respected that about her. She didn’t flinch from the truth, even when it hurt.“I’ve arranged mo
Last Updated: 2026-02-10
Chapter: Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Six The Valentine's Morning, The Exhibition Party, and the Return of the Past IAnnabelle’s POVValentine's morning sun was different. It was rich with the hue of gold.I woke to the scent of Antonioni’s cigar lingering faintly, the faint trace of smoke curling into the sunlight. But it wasn’t just smoke; it was his presence, his careful control over everything, even over the moments before the chaos would inevitably descend.He was awake before me, as always, and waited until I stirred fully before speaking. “Annabelle,” he said softly, voice low and steady, “before the end of today, I’ll be locked away again. But there are truths you need to know.”I blinked, sitting up slowly, unsure of how to prepare for what would come next.“I’ve arranged money everywhere it needs to be,” he continued, “For your life, your future…If you want to go to the university, apply
Last Updated: 2026-02-09
Chapter: Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Five Canvases, Clarity, and CommitmentAnnabelle’s POVThe morning sun in my studio fell unevenly, striking my canvases at angles that made them feel alive, almost conspiratorial. I had arrived early, before the world could press its noise against the edges of my mind. But the news, Edward’s words, lingered stubbornly in the corners of my thoughts, shadowing every ray of light.Not my father. Antonioni’s daughter. Not Mama's daughter. Scilla's daughter. My life rewritten in a single breath.I closed my eyes and let the memory settle, trying to understand what it meant to be carried through life by someone else’s mistakes, someone else’s silence. And yet, through all the chaos Edward had sown, one truth remained clear: Antonioni’s presence in my life had been steady. Fierce. Unyielding. Protective.I couldn’t let myself get lost in the whirlpool of lineage and bloodlines. Not now. Not
Last Updated: 2026-02-09
Chapter: Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Four Ashes, Blood, and Valentine’s SmokeAntonioni’s POVThe cigar burned slowly between my fingers.I hadn’t noticed when I lit it. Only when the smoke thickened did I realize how long I’d been standing there, staring out at the darkened estate, letting memory and instinct circle each other like predators.Scilla.Her name refused to stay buried.I replayed her death the way the mind does when it suspects a lie has been dressed as truth. Not chronologically. Not cleanly. In fragments. In smells. In silences that had never sat right.She had died too quietly. Too neatly for notice. Too conveniently for someone who knew too much and demanded little.Years ago, I had believed she sold me out.Not suspected. Not assumed. Believed.To Sergio Rock-Delgado.The kind of man whose name closed mouths and ope
Last Updated: 2026-02-08
Chapter: Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Three Bloodlines and Past ShadowsAntonioni’s POVThe gates opened slowly, the sound burned through my ears, via the phone, like an electronic threat.Not for ceremonies. Not for respect.They opened because someone at the gate had a name that refused to be ignored.I was standing beside Annabelle in the sitting room when the guard led him in. I didn’t sit. I couldn’t. Something in my chest had already tightened, a quiet warning my body had learned to trust long before my mind ever did.Edward Gracia.The name alone tasted like a rotten dog.The gait of a gambler who had lost too many times, the shoulders of a man who survived by selling pieces of himself until there was nothing left but bone and nerve.Annabelle stiffened beside me. I felt it without looking.Time did not pause. It only folded.Edward looked
Last Updated: 2026-02-08
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