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THE WEDDING
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2025-05-09 00:16:05BLOOD AND VOWS
--- CHAPTER THREE THE WEDDING “A vow made under pressure is still a chain.” --- Rain fell like gunfire on the church roof. The stained-glass windows cast blood-colored light across the pews. Men in suits filled every row—mafia kings, their soldiers, their ghosts. Nobody smiled. This wasn’t a wedding. It was a ceasefire dressed in silk. Emilia stood at the back of the aisle, veil covering half her face, spine straight. Rosa adjusted her train with trembling hands. “You don’t have to look happy,” Rosa whispered. “Just look lethal.” Emilia smirked. “That I can do.” The doors creaked open. The organ groaned to life. As she stepped forward, she could feel every eye on her. Not admiration—judgment. Calculations. Everyone in this room was weighing what her body, her loyalty, her blood was worth. Alessio waited at the altar in black-on-black. Shirt, tie, jacket—like he was already dressed for the funeral of whatever soul this marriage was supposed to save. His expression was a mask: unreadable, sharp. Not even cold—just detached. Their eyes locked as she walked down the aisle, the fabric of her gown whispering threats against the stone floor. Each step was a countdown. --- When she reached him, he didn’t offer his hand. She didn’t expect him to. The priest’s voice echoed under the vaulted ceiling, ancient and heavy. “We are gathered here today…” Emilia barely heard the words. Her ears rang with memory—her father’s voice, his laugh, the fire. The first lesson he ever gave her: never trust a Moretti. She tried not to look at Don Salvatore in the front row. He looked pleased. Powerful. Like the world was folding back into his hands. “Do you take this man—” “I do,” Emilia said. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. “Do you take this woman—” “Yes,” Alessio said, without hesitation. It wasn’t a promise. It was a contract. --- The rings were simple. No engraving. No sentiment. Just symbols—cold and binding. When the priest declared them husband and wife, no one clapped. No cheers. Just silence. The kind that settles in before something explodes. --- The reception was a pageantry of polite violence. Crystal glasses clinked. Mob bosses offered congratulations through gritted teeth. Men with blood on their hands kissed her cheek like she was a trophy passed between factions. The wine was sharp. The music too soft. Everyone smiled too wide. At the head table, Emilia sat beside Alessio in practiced stillness. Cameras flashed. Whispers flew. He leaned toward her once, voice low. “You played your part well.” She sipped her champagne. “You didn’t stutter on your vows. I’m impressed.” He raised an eyebrow. “You expected me to?” “I expected more resistance.” His eyes slid over to her, calm as glass. “This isn’t about resistance. It’s about control.” She met his gaze. “And what do you think you control now?” His smile was slow. Dangerous. “The one thing I was never supposed to have. You.” --- Later, she slipped away to the balcony overlooking the garden. Her dress felt heavy, her skin colder than the rain that still misted the night air. Rosa joined her with a soft step. “You okay?” Emilia exhaled. “Define okay.” “You looked like a queen up there.” “I felt like a hostage.” “No one chains you, Emmy. Not even him.” Emilia didn’t respond. She wasn’t so sure. --- They entered the bedroom in silence. Alessio tossed his jacket on the chair. She didn’t take off her gown. Neither spoke. She crossed the room and locked the bathroom door behind her. Stripped off the dress. Washed her face. Looked in the mirror at a woman who no longer looked like a daughter—or a bride. When she came out, he was pouring himself a drink, tie loosened, gun still holstered under his arm. He didn’t glance at her. She walked past him without a word, climbed into the bed fully clothed, and slid her hand under the pillow to check. The gun was still there. Loaded. Message received. ---
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BLOOD AND VOWS THE PRICE OF SILENCE
---CHAPTER FORTY-FOURTHE PRICE OF SILENCE“Peace doesn’t come free. It comes with whatever you were too afraid to face during the war.”The vault was sealed. But the war didn’t end. Not really. The tremors beneath the estate had stopped. The air pressure no longer cracked the plaster in the ceilings. The blood stopped crawling up from the cracks. But something inside the survivors kept moving, kept trembling, as if the thing they buried didn’t die—it simply moved into them. That was the kind of silence the vault left behind. Not empty. Charged. Like static before a storm.Bianca hadn’t spoken in two days. She hadn’t eaten in one. Since Emilia’s sacrifice, she’d spent nearly every hour inside the old chapel, staring at the brass plaque mounted under the flame where Emilia’s name now sat—etched, final, shallow and yet heavier than all the stone in the room. She didn’t cry. She didn’t kneel. She just stood there, candle after candle melting down beside her. When the staff tried to clea
BLOOD AND VOWS WHERE THE LIGHT FORGOT US
---CHAPTER FORTY-TWOWHERE THE LIGHT FORGOT US“There are places that remember more than we do. And when they speak, they don’t whisper. They take.”It began the moment Alessio opened the second box. No boom. No glow. No cinematic flare. Just silence, so absolute it squeezed the air out of their lungs. The box didn’t creak, didn’t shift. It simply accepted his hand like it had been waiting for it. Inside was nothing dramatic—no relic, no cursed object—just one yellowed piece of folded paper, and a single bullet, dark grey, carved with ancient Moretti script etched into its base. One item. One message. One decision.He held the bullet in his palm and stared at it for a long time. It wasn’t ordinary. It was heavier than it should’ve been. Not by weight, but by meaning. Holding it felt like holding confession, like every terrible truth his family buried had been compacted into a single piece of metal designed for one purpose only: to end something.Next to him, Emilia stood rigid, her e
BLOOD AND VOWS THE CHOICE THAT BROKE THE BLOOD
---CHAPTER FORTY-ONETHE CHOICE THAT BROKE THE BLOOD“It’s not the first shot that breaks you. It’s the silence after, when everything that’s left has to live with it.”The gunshot didn’t echo. It was absorbed—swallowed by the stone and the dark and the history pressing in from every wall of the vault. Alessio kept his arm steady, jaw locked, as Jace dropped like a puppet cut from the strings. The bullet tore into his chest and he crumpled, but he didn’t scream. He just exhaled, as if he’d been waiting for that exact moment all his life. The air in the vault shifted—not as it would from a death, but like the structure itself had registered something more significant than blood. Not fear. Not chaos. Choice. And with choice came consequence.The hum began again, louder this time, not confined to a wall or chamber or machine but rising from the floor, from the broken veins of the vault’s foundation. Stone vibrated beneath Alessio’s boots. Red light flickered once, then dimmed, then disa
BLOOD AND VOWS MEMORY HAS TEETH
---CHAPTER FORTYMEMORY HAS TEETH“When memory comes for you, it doesn’t ask permission. It opens your chest and digs with both hands.”They didn’t recognize Jace at first. It wasn’t the way he walked, or the way his clothes hung heavier, darker, almost wet with sweat and some substance that didn’t belong in the world above. It was his eyes. His eyes were wrong. The shape was the same. The movement was there. But the depth—the way they followed you even when he wasn’t looking at you—was different. There was something behind them now. Something ancient. Something watching through him. He didn’t blink when the red emergency lights stuttered. He didn’t flinch when the vault’s inner floor cracked again. He simply kept walking—alone at first, though the sound of more footsteps echoed just behind the curve of the stone. Not boots. Not heels. Something softer. Bare.Alessio raised his weapon slowly, tracking Jace’s steps from the corner of the corridor where he and Emilia stood in perfect s
BLOOD AND VOWS THE THING THAT KNOWS YOU
---CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE THE THING THAT KNOWS YOU“It doesn’t want to kill you. It wants to remember you. And then show you everything you forgot to fear.”No one moved when the voice spoke. No one breathed when it said the name. Alessio’s name. Not shouted. Not whispered. Just spoken—clearly, directly, from somewhere below the reinforced concrete, through five layers of steel and ancient stone, carried not through air but through pressure. It didn’t echo like sound. It settled like truth. Even in the control room, where white noise hummed from hard drives and emergency power buzzed in the vents, the voice still came through. Not loud. But absolute. Like gravity had words.Bianca stood completely still, her eyes glassy, her breath slow and shallow, the same way she looked when she used to listen to old reels of family secrets on analog tapes—afraid to react too soon, afraid reacting might make them real. “It knows him,” she said quietly, barely moving her lips. “It doesn’t guess. It d
BLOOD AND VOWS THE VAULT BLEEDS
---CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT THE VAULT BLEEDS“Some places remember every sin ever committed inside them. And eventually, they spit the blood back out.”It didn’t feel like a tremor. Tremors were brief, sharp, over before the body knew how to react. What happened beneath the Moretti estate was slower, deeper, and carried a hum like bone grinding against bone. The war room monitors blacked out in sections—first the security feeds, then the audio grid, then the heartbeat sensors attached to each heat signature in the vault. At first, Emilia thought the system had glitched again, another artifact of Vitale’s sabotage protocols, but then the emergency backup flickered to life in red, and she saw the words printed across the top line: CONTAINMENT BREACH: INNER SEAL COMPROMISED. Not hacked. Not bypassed. Compromised.She called Alessio without hesitation. He answered on the first ring, already moving, already breathing like someone who didn’t need to be told something was wrong. “I felt it,” h
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