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The Velvet Revolt

Author: Desmond Caramel Writes
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-02 05:11:29

Valentina

A kingdom doesn't fall in a day.

It rots in silence first.

In the secrets whispered between walls. In the dead flowers no one dares to throw away. In the halls where ghosts of women like me used to scream but no one listened.

I was not going to be a ghost.

Not in this house. Not in this war. Not in this skin.

The red dress I wore to the council was still draped across the velvet chaise in my room. I hadn’t put it away. I wanted its power to haunt the space, a warning wrapped in silk. A memory of the day I stopped playing queen and became empress.

Alessandro hadn’t spoken much since then.

He watched me the way men watched fires they couldn’t put out with awe, with fear, with a strange kind of love that smelled too close to smoke.

He didn't try to stop me anymore.

But he didn't try to stand beside me, either.

I was reading. Or pretending to.

Books were my mother’s way of hiding blades. Every page a distraction, every chapter a mask. The novel in my hand? Hollow. But I needed s
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  • A Substitute Bride For The Mafia Boss   The Broken Flame : Even Monsters Break

    ~Valentina~The mirror cracked under my scream.Not because of the volume, but because of what I saw.I no longer recognized self. My eyes were still the same olive green, but now they flickered with something dark. Something ancient. Something ruthless.The blood ritual had awakened a deeper truth. I wasn’t helpless not anymore. But strength came with a cost. And as the cold water from the marble basin splashed against my cheeks, I realized the cost was me."They want war?" I whispered to the shadows.The air didn’t answer.But the tremble in my belly the kick did.I turned from the mirror, threw on the black velvet robe, and stormed to the balcony. Below, Alessandro barked orders to his men, a pistol in one hand, a lit cigar in the other, rage dancing in his veins like wildfire."Where the f*** is Lorenzo?!" he roared.His fury should’ve comforted me. It didn’t.Because Lorenzo... wasn’t hiding.He was waiting.LorenzoPower is not given. It’s taken.I sat in the crimson chamber, th

  • A Substitute Bride For The Mafia Boss   Kingdom of Smokes

    ~Valentina~ I used to believe love was the strongest tether. But fear? Fear moves faster. Cuts deeper. And right now, it’s wrapping its claws around my child’s heartbeat. We didn’t sleep after storming the west compound. We didn’t celebrate. Because in Palermo, every victory hums like a loaded gun — and every silence feels like a setup. Alessandro wanted to press again. Hit harder. But I told him no. Not this time. We needed strategy. Not just rage. So I went alone. Back to the library. Back to the gramophone. And for the first time… I played it. I let it speak. Crackling static gave way to a recording. Lorenzo’s voice — deep, composed, terrifyingly intimate. "Do you remember the dress you wore the night you thought you hated me? It was velvet. You were fire. And I knew, even then, I could burn in you." I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I took the needle off. And I called my mother’s sister in Naples. She ran with witches once. Real ones. If Lorenzo wanted to build a

  • A Substitute Bride For The Mafia Boss   Burn it all Down

    AlessandroI no longer see rooms.I see warzones.Every corner of this house feels like a potential betrayal. Every floorboard, a secret. Every breath Valentina takes a miracle I no longer deserve to witness.I stood alone in the War Room.The walls bore no signs of Lorenzo. No photos. No nameplates. Nothing physical. But it still smelled like him. That old scent of smug legacy and violence in a tailored suit. The bastard was a phantom in every shadow.My reflection in the glass case looked like a man unhinged. I hadn’t shaved. Hadn’t eaten. I drank just enough to feel like I was still human."He wants her to choose," I muttered. My hand flexed. "Over me. Over this child."The rage was no longer loud. It was quiet. Focused. Vicious.I lit the file containing Lorenzo’s dossier on fire.Watched it curl and blacken.And when the last flame flickered out, I whispered, "So be it."Valentina's POVThe nights were darker now.Not because the power failed. Not because the estate dimmed.Becau

  • A Substitute Bride For The Mafia Boss   The House that Feared Built

    ValentinaThe days had begun to bend.Not pass. Not blur. Bend.Time in this estate didn’t move forward anymore. It curled around us like smoke, folding in on itself, pressing against my throat. I used to count time in weeks. In doctor appointments. In fetal movements. Now I counted it in incidents.Today it was the garden.The rosemary bush I’d replanted two days ago had been dug out. Not destroyed. Moved. Uprooted and placed, gently, on the stone table near the west wall. A message in roots.I didn’t scream.I stared. One hand on the child that twisted inside me like he, too, could feel the shift in the air."Something moved the rosemary," I told Alessandro when he walked in. His eyes narrowed instantly."Something, or someone?""Does it matter anymore?"He stalked past me to the garden, eyes scanning the walls, then the sky, then the trees. I watched him quietly. He wasn’t just checking for cameras.He was looking for ghosts."We need to burn the roots," he said flatly.I blinked.

  • A Substitute Bride For The Mafia Boss   The Devil Who Waits

    LorenzoThere is something divine about waiting.Not the passive kind. Not the kind you do in lines or traffic or shallow graves. No, I mean the sacred waiting. The kind that breaks a man open and rebuilds him in silence.I’ve waited in shadows darker than death. In cells meant to swallow history. In chains wrapped in lies and steel. But nothing nothing has kept me from her.Valentina.The name tastes like smoke now. Like something burned and reborn. She walks like prophecy, swells like vengeance, speaks like fate in a silk dress. I watch her through the cracks in this empire. Through borrowed eyes. Rerouted cameras. Spilled confessions. Every whisper in the city bends back to her.They say she’s glowing.They say her belly is a kingdom.They say she’s winning.But winning is a phase. A costume.And I am no ghost.I am the rot in her roots.The lion she found? That was me.The lullaby? Me.The fingerprints no one finds, the alarms that fail, the blind spots in their security grid? Me.

  • A Substitute Bride For The Mafia Boss   The Weight of a Throne

    Alessandro watched from the balcony as the first convoy rolled into sight: blacked out SUVs carrying men whose faces he’d never seen but whose loyalty was unquestionable. Under his command, they’d done things that would turn day into nightmares and tonight, they moved on his word.He had summoned them not to terrify the city, but to protect his future. Each one carried coded instructions, sealed under wax bearing his crest. This wasn't an act of war — it was an act of survival.He descended the marble staircase into the courtyard, the moonlight turning his footsteps into a promise. Valentina met him there, cheekbones radiant in the soft glow of the lanterns. Her gown whispered silk against stone.“They’re ready,” he said, voice low and certain. He held out the activation signal: a folded note she recognized from the council meeting.She scanned it and nodded, fear and resolve flickering in her eyes. “Let’s bury him tonight.”He laid a hand on her waist, drawing her to his side. “We bu

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