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Chapter 6

Author: Lumi
last update publish date: 2026-07-08 18:58:50

The Bride

Some nights don't end,They linger In the silence between heartbeats.

In the echo of footsteps that never leave,In the scent of rain that clings to stone long after the storm has passed.

This was one of those nights.

Sleep had stood at Valentina's bedroom door...

Looked in...Then walked away.

She lay on her back, eyes fixed on the ornate ceiling above her bed. Moonlight slipped through the curtains, stretching pale fingers across the room before disappearing beneath the first hints of dawn.

The grandfather clock downstairs chimed tirelessly Every strike landed somewhere beneath her ribs.

One day......and probably By sunset tomorrow, everything would change.

She closed her eyes.

Gray eyes met hers immediately.

"You have one day left."

The words echoed through the darkness.

Her eyes flew open.

"No.!!"

The whisper disappeared into the empty room.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

The marble floor was cold enough to make her shiver.

Her gaze drifted toward the windowsill.

The white rose still stood inside its crystal vase.

Perfect....Untouched.Almost mocking her.

She walked over slowly.

The petals looked softer in the morning light.

She brushed one with her thumb.

A thorn bit into her finger.

She hissed softly.

A tiny bead of crimson bloomed against her skin before sliding onto the white petal.

For a long moment...She simply watched.

Red against white....Beauty against pain.

Her lips tightened.

She carried the vase toward the door.

Halfway there...She stopped.

Her shoulders sagged.

Instead of throwing it away, she placed it on a console table outside her room.

Out of sight.... but not out of mind.

The mansion no longer sounded like home.

Footsteps echoed where laughter once lived.

Doors opened..... while some Closed.

Whispers floated through the corridors before dying the instant she appeared.

A maid hurried past carrying fresh lilies.

Another polished the brass railing with frantic movements.

Neither looked at her.

They looked beyond her.

Toward the men standing at every entrance.

Black suits.....Black gloves...Hidden earpieces.

De Luca men.

One stood outside her bedroom door.

Another guarded the staircase.

A third watched the front entrance with military precision.

Not guests.

Not bodyguards.

Occupation.

She descended the staircase.

Every step seemed louder than the last.

The scent of coffee drifted from the dining room.

So did the low murmur of voices.

Marco looked up first.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes.

He pushed his untouched breakfast aside.

"You should eat."

She looked at the untouched plate in front of him.

"You first."

A corner of his mouth twitched.

Neither reached for the food.

At the head of the table, Vittorio stared into a cup of coffee that had long gone cold.

His fingers tightened around the porcelain.

He looked older.

Not by years.

By burdens.

No one spoke.

The silence stretched until it snapped beneath the shrill ring of the house telephone.

Every head turned.

A maid hurried toward it.

She answered quietly.

Color drained from her face.

"Sir..."

Her voice trembled.

"It's for you."

Vittorio stood slowly.

He took the receiver.

Listened.

Didn't speak.

His jaw tightened.

His knuckles whitened around the phone.

Finally...

"I understand."

He hung up.

The click echoed through the room.

Marco stood.

"What happened?"

Vittorio looked at his children.

"The Moretti family attacked one of our warehouses before dawn."

Valentina's stomach dropped.

"Were people hurt?"

A long pause.

"Three."

"Wounded?"

His silence answered her.

Marco slammed both hands onto the dining table.

Porcelain rattled violently.

"This is because of him!"

His voice bounced off the walls.

"If De Luca wants a marriage, why are innocent people dying?"

"They weren't his men."

"They're dead because everyone knows we're weak!"

The chair scraped loudly as Marco stormed toward the door.

Vittorio rose.

"Marco."

He didn't stop.

"Marco!"

The front door burst open.

Rain swept inside with him.

Valentina hurried after her brother.

Outside...

The estate buzzed with movement.

Several black SUVs rolled through the gates.

Not De Luca vehicles.

Russo soldiers.

Their uniforms were stained with dirt and blood.

One man stumbled as he climbed from the back seat.

Another clutched his shoulder while crimson seeped through his fingers.

A third collapsed onto one knee.

Chaos erupted.

Doctors rushed forward.

Servants carried towels.

Someone shouted for more medical supplies.

The metallic scent of blood mixed with wet earth.

Valentina froze.

This wasn't business anymore.

This was war.

Marco grabbed one of the wounded men.

"What happened?"

"They..."

The soldier struggled to breathe.

"They knew exactly where we'd be."

Marco's face darkened.

"We were ambushed."

The man nodded weakly.

"There was..."

He coughed violently.

"...someone feeding them information."

Silence crashed over everyone nearby.

An informant.

Someone inside the Russo family.

Watching.

Listening.

Reporting.

Valentina slowly looked around.

At the servants.

At the guards.

At the drivers unloading supplies.

Every face suddenly looked unfamiliar.

Every glance felt suspicious.

Who was loyal?

Who was lying?

A low rumble interrupted her thoughts.

Engines.

Powerful.

Expensive.

Every De Luca guard straightened instantly.

The convoy.

Three black Rolls-Royces glided through the gates without stopping.

Rain danced across polished paint.

The middle car stopped.

The rear door opened.

Highly polished shoes met the gravel.

Then Alessandro stepped out.

His charcoal coat rested perfectly across broad shoulders despite the weather.

His expression remained unreadable.

He took in the wounded men.

The blood.

The panic.

Without a word...

He walked toward the injured soldier lying nearest the fountain.

He crouched.

Pressed two fingers against the man's neck.

Then looked toward one of his own guards.

"Get my doctor."

The guard didn't hesitate.

He ran.

Marco's laugh was sharp enough to cut glass.

"How noble."

Alessandro rose slowly.

Gray eyes settled on him.

"If you have something to say..."

Marco stepped closer.

"...say it."

The air seemed to still around them.

Rain fell harder.

Neither man blinked.

Neither looked away.

Valentina felt her pulse hammering in her ears.

Something told her this morning was about to become far more dangerous than the last.

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