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Chapter 46: The Anatomy of Fear
Last Updated:
2025-05-31 18:39:49
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Blood Roses And Bullet Vows Chapter 46: The Anatomy of Fear
Amara's POV“You disobeyed my direct order.”Rafael’s voice cut through the silence like a scalpel, sharp and precise.Matteo stood stiff across the room, shoulders squared, jaw locked. He didn’t respond.“You hesitated,” Rafael continued, circling him like a vulture around prey. “You let sentiment cloud your judgment.”Matteo didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. But I saw the vein ticking in his temple.“I pulled the trigger,” he said quietly. “He’s dead.”“Not before his men shot three of ours and lit the outpost like a bonfire. That wasn’t strategy. That was recklessness in disguise.”“I made a call.”“You made a mistake.”The air in Rafael’s office was tight, coiled. I stood just outside the doorway, Natalia beside me, silent as ever.“You told me once,” Matteo finally said, voice low, “that sometimes killing a brother is harder than killing an enemy.”Rafael’s lips twitched. “And I did it anyway.”“That’s what makes us different.”Rafael stepped closer. “You don’t get to be different, Ma
Blood Roses And Bullet Vows Chapter 45: Smoke in the Veins
There’s something about gunmetal that smells like fear. Not because it’s cold or sharp, but because it holds a story in its weight—of what it’s done, and what it could still do.That’s what I was thinking when Natalia tossed a Glock into my palm like it was nothing more than a hairbrush.“You need to stop flinching,” she said, arms crossed, one brow raised. “Guns are not snakes. They don’t bite unless you make them.”Easy for her to say. She was carved from shadows and forged in war. I still flinched every time the trigger clicked.“Again,” she said.I exhaled and aimed.The bullet missed the center by a lot.Natalia sighed. “You’re thinking too much. Don’t overanalyze it. Feel it. Trust your instincts.”“I don’t think I have any instincts,” I muttered.She stepped closer, too close. Her hands wrapped around mine, correcting my grip. Her voice softened for the first time since training started. “You survived kidnapping, betrayal, and your own heart. You have instincts, Amara. Stop dou
Blood Roses And Bullet Vows Chapter 44: The Blood Pact
The air in Rafael's war room was sharp with tension and too many unsaid things. It wasn’t as grand as I imagined—it looked more like a forgotten chapel turned into a command center. Stained glass windows, cracked and faded, spilled tired colors on the dusty floor. A long oak table stood in the center, scattered with maps, old cigars, empty glasses, and blood-red folders.Everyone was already seated when Matteo and I arrived. Rafael stood at the head of the table, a scar cutting across his brow like punctuation. His gaze flicked to me, then Matteo. He didn’t say anything until we sat down.“There’s a traitor in the camp,” he said without a hint of ceremony.Just like that.No warm-up. No warning. Just fire.My stomach flipped.“What do you mean?” Matteo asked, already leaning forward, jaw clenched.Rafael glanced at the folder in his hand, but didn’t open it.“I mean someone here has been feeding the Vasquez cartel information. Locations. Numbers. Schedules.”A beat of silence.Luca sw
Blood Roses And Bullet Vows Chapter 43: Scar Stories
We didn’t leave the red room right away. Not even after the truth had already torn through every corner like a cold wind. I stayed in the chair for a while, the folder still on my lap. Matteo sat across from me, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.Silence wasn’t awkward. It was thick. Sacred, even. Like we were giving each other space to breathe after drowning for too long.I was the one who broke it.“Do you ever think,” I said slowly, “that maybe we’re just... broken in ways we don’t even understand?”Matteo didn’t look up right away. But when he did, there was something raw in his expression. Not pity. Not guilt. Just... something honest.“All the time.”His voice was quiet, but I heard every syllable. It sank deep, stirring something I hadn’t let rise in years.He leaned back, stretching out his legs and staring at the cracked ceiling like it had all the answers.“You want to know who I was before all this?”I nodded.“I was loud,” he said with a small, bitter laugh. “I
Blood Roses And Bullet Vows Chapter 42: The Red Room
I wasn’t planning to break anything today. Not locks. Not rules. Not even my own promises. But there I was, standing in front of a door Matteo had explicitly told me never to open. The red room. It wasn’t just locked. It was sealed like a secret. Like it was guarding something so dangerous, even the walls didn’t want to remember. But I needed answers. Not whispers. Not warnings. Real ones. So I picked the lock. The click echoed in the hallway. It sounded too loud, too final. But I pushed the door open anyway. The first thing that hit me was the smell. Dust. Paper. Something older than time. The room was windowless. Red velvet curtains hung on the walls even without windows to cover, and the light was dim, coming from a single bulb swaying slightly from the ceiling. I stepped inside, and the air shifted. The room wasn’t a bedroom or a library. It was something else. A vault of memory. A shrine. Or maybe a crime scene. There were filing cabinets. Stacks of boxes. Shelves filled
Blood Roses And Bullet Vows Chapter 41: Shards of Silence
The house was quiet in a way that didn’t feel peaceful. It was the kind of silence that pressed on your chest, like it knew what you were hiding. Like it was waiting for you to remember something you'd rather forget. Matteo was resting in the guest room on the lower floor, heavily bandaged and sedated. Rue was with him, sitting in the corner with a book she wasn’t really reading. She'd been shot too, but Rue had always treated pain like it was a mosquito bite—annoying, but not enough to slow her down. I climbed the stairs slowly, each creak of the wood loud in the stillness. Matteo's family house was old. The walls held secrets, and the air was thick with stories no one had finished telling. I wasn’t even sure why I ended up in his old room. Maybe I was looking for a distraction. Maybe I was trying to remember a version of him before the blood, the war, and the hurt. Maybe I just wanted to feel close to him while I still could. The room was cleaner than I expected. There was a
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