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Chapter 12: The Betrayer
Last Updated:
2025-04-19 00:12:23
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The halls were quieter after death.Not the still kind, but the haunted kind. Every step I took echoed too much, like the house was trying to remember where Lorenzo fell.He died in front of me.Matteo killed him in front of me.And now we were back in this silence, walking like nothing had cracked the air hours ago.I sat at the edge of Matteo’s study couch, hands wrapped around a cup of untouched tea. The porcelain felt too delicate for what I’d seen. For what I’d become a part of.Across from me, Matteo poured whiskey. No ice. Just amber and silence.“Why him?” I asked.My voice wasn’t sharp. Just tired.He didn’t look up as he answered. “Because I didn’t think it’d be him.”He took a slow sip, then leaned back, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.“I grew up with Lorenzo. He was two years older. Taught me how to fake a smile during meetings, how to cheat at cards, how to aim a gun without blinking.”He set the glass down.“When my father died, I was sixteen. The day after the fune
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The air inside the old, forgotten orphanage felt thick, stale with memories and dust. Every step I took seemed to echo, reminding me of the silence that had surrounded this place for years. Matteo was beside me, his presence like a weight on my shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to push him away. Not when I was standing on the precipice of something I hadn’t known I was ready to face."Are you sure about this?" Matteo's voice broke the silence, low and hesitant.I looked at him, seeing his concern reflected in the dark shadows under his eyes. He'd never shown this much vulnerability before, and it made me feel like I was drowning in a sea of things I couldn’t control. "I have to know, Matteo. I have to know what happened to me... who I really am."The words tasted bitter on my tongue. It felt like a betrayal to the man I thought was my father. But there was no turning back now. My entire life had been built on lies, and I was too tired to pretend anymore.Matteo sighed, his fingers
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The drive was long, the world outside a blur of darkened trees and winding roads. But the silence inside the car was deafening. Matteo’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw set in that familiar way. The tension between us thickened with every passing mile, like it could choke me at any second. I kept my eyes on the dark landscape, though I wasn’t really seeing it. My mind replayed everything—the kiss, the way his lips had burned into mine, his words, his touch. But mostly, it replayed the one thing I didn’t want to think about: the confession. I killed your father. The words echoed in my head, over and over. I couldn’t escape them. My chest felt hollow, like a part of me had just cracked open. And the worst part? I didn’t know if I hated him for it. How could I? If what he said was true, my father wasn’t who I thought he was. But then… did that really change anything? He was still my father. The man who raised me. Who protected me. Who I trusted. And Matteo—he kill
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I didn't know how long I'd been staring at the papers scattered across the desk. Minutes? Hours? The numbers blurred together. The words, too. Everything felt like it was spinning out of control, but it was all undeniable. My hands trembled as I flipped through each file, each page revealing more than I ever wanted to know. My father. My own flesh and blood. A man I had trusted with everything I was. Everything I thought I could be. And yet, here it was. Evidence. Corruption. Dark deals. He wasn’t the man I thought he was. I gripped the edge of the desk, steadying myself. But it didn’t help. My pulse was erratic, my breath shallow as I sifted through photo after photo, some from the day I was born. I didn't recognize it at first—at first, I thought it was just a photo from some family gathering. But then I saw the faces behind me. Different kids. Too many of them. Too many unfamiliar faces that didn’t belong. I blinked hard, trying to force the image away, but it stayed. I h
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Rain tapped like soft whispers against the windshield, and the world outside the tinted glass blurred into shadows and smoke.The hearse ahead of us moved slowly, a dark carriage dragging Matteo Monteverde's name through the mud one last time. The streets were lined with umbrellas and whispers, mourners and monsters dressed in black.And somewhere in the crowd... was me.Draped in a long black veil, a wig darkening my hair, I stood still. Silent. My heart beating in sync with the thunder above. My heels sank into the softened earth, and my gloved hands clenched the umbrella handle so tightly I thought it might snap.I didn’t speak. I didn’t blink.I just watched.Watched Rafael Aragon walk up to the podium like a grieving brother. Like a man who didn’t have blood on his hands.He wore mourning well. Black suit, black tie, just a touch of red in his pocket square—because the devil never forgets his color.He look
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The second envelope came at dawn. No knock. No footsteps. Just a soft thud, like a breath exhaled through paper, as it landed on the floor of Matteo's room. I didn’t notice it at first. I was dozing off, curled up in the chair, my fingers still loosely holding Matteo's hand. But the sound pulled me out of the fog. There it was. Another letter. Same yellowing parchment. Same shaky ink. But this time, it was addressed to Matteo. I didn’t touch it. Not right away. Something about it felt wrong. Like it breathed. Like it watched. I stared at it as the sun cracked through the slats in the window, slicing light across the tile floor. My heart hammered in slow, heavy thuds. I didn’t know if I was more afraid of what was inside it or the fact that it had gotten in at all. No one had come through that door. No one. And still, it sat there. I finally reached f
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The blood wouldn’t stop.It soaked through my fingers, warm and terrifying, as I pressed harder against Matteo’s chest. I couldn’t even tell where the bullet had entered anymore—only that the bleeding wouldn’t slow, and his breathing was getting shallower.“Faster!” I screamed over my shoulder, my voice cracking. “We’re losing him!”Emil didn’t reply. He just drove harder, weaving through the barely lit roads like every second could kill us.The safehouse wasn’t far now. A medical one—hidden deep in the hills, off-grid, fully equipped and used only for the most desperate moments.And this was desperate.I stared down at Matteo’s face. His lashes twitched against his pale skin, sweat dotting his forehead. His lips were tinted red.“Stay with me, please.”My voice was smaller now. I didn’t care about pride or anger or what happened yesterday. Not when his life was slipping through my hands.The van jolted
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Amara’s POVI didn’t sleep that night.The cut on my palm had dried into a thin, ugly line, but the ache didn’t stop there. It spread through my chest like rot, thick and impossible to escape from. Matteo’s face wouldn’t leave my head—the way his eyes hardened, how his voice cracked when he said goodbye.It played on repeat. Every blink, every breath, it was there.“You don’t understand.”“Don’t.”“I trusted you.”“I’m done with you.”I could still hear it.I sat alone on the cold floor of the safehouse, the silence so loud it nearly screamed. Outside the window, dawn hadn’t even tried to break yet. Just black sky and heavier shadows.He didn’t even let me explain.But maybe he didn’t need to.I had cut myself open for Matteo—literally—and he still walked away like none of it mattered. Maybe to him, it didn’t.I wanted to scream.I wanted to smash something.But more than anythin
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Blood Roses And Bullet Vows Chapter 28: Kill her or be killed
Amara’s POV"Tell me," I said.His silence terrified me more than any gun ever pointed at my head.Matteo stood in front of me, drenched from the rain, shoulders slumped like he’d just buried someone. There was something haunted in his eyes—something I hadn’t seen before. Not even when he thought I died.He opened his mouth. Closed it. And when he finally spoke, it wasn’t what I expected."He knows you’re alive."The breath left my lungs. I stepped back, the walls of the safehouse suddenly too close, too tight."Rafael?"He nodded once. "He showed me a picture. Said he’s known for a while. He’s just been waiting.""Waiting for what?"Matteo didn’t answer right away. He looked down at his hands, like they were covered in blood."He gave me a choice."His voice cracked. My heart did too."What kind of choice?"He looked at me then. Really looked. And I knew. I knew before he said it. I felt it like a scream in my bones."He wants me to kill you," Matteo said. "Seven days. Or he’ll kill
