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Bound By Blood And Vows.
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-07-23
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In a world where power is currency and women are pawns, Ava Campelli has just been sold to the highest bidder through a wedding veil. Born into a legacy of blood and quiet obedience, Ava knew her fate was sealed long before she could dream of escape. When she’s forced to marry Nico Moretti, the cold, ruthless heir to a criminal empire, her life becomes a performance of silence and survival. From the outside, she’s a vision in white. On the inside, she’s breaking. Nico is everything she feared: calculated, controlling, and obsessed with ownership. What begins with a diamond ring and a kiss in front of hundreds quickly descends into possession, manipulation, and brutal expectations behind closed doors. His touch is demanding, his love conditional, and Ava is expected to be the perfect wife—seen, not heard. But behind the carefully painted smile and submissive posture, something dangerous is beginning to stir in Ava. Each cruel word, every forced touch, is a spark. And one day soon, she may burn the whole kingdom down. A story of power, pain, and the quiet beginnings of rebellion—Bound By Blood and Vows is a haunting tale of a girl who learns that surviving is only the beginning and if she can't win his heart, then she will steal it when she leaves.
Lihat lebih banyakBab 1
The Beginning Of The End
Present DayHe vowed to love me.To protect me.To cherish me in sickness and in health, in darkness and in light.What a fucking joke that was.
Fairy tales teach little girls to believe in happily ever after. But mine came wrapped in silk and blood, bound with ancient promises and mafia politics. My fate wasn’t written in stars, it was inked in contracts and whispered behind closed doors long before I took my first breath. From the moment I was born, my life was tethered to his. Nico Moretti. The golden son of the Moretti empire. My father’s answer to peace, his bargaining chip for power, his most valuable offering: me.I was raised in glass, fragile, spotless, handled with care, groomed to smile prettily, speak only when spoken to, and sacrifice every dream I had at the altar of duty. I did everything right. I was the perfect little girl, molded into the perfect little wife and it didn’t matter. None of it mattered because to Nico, I was never a partner. I was a possession. A pretty trinket to place on his arm and tuck away when he grew bored. He’s not a good man. He’s not fair, not kind, not loyal or loving. Nico Moretti is a fucking monster, cruel, cold, calculating. He doesn’t love, he conquers. Doesn’t speak, he commands. And I let it happen. For five long, excruciating years, I let it happen. I sat at his feet. Smiled at his guests. Silenced my screams behind crimson lips and diamond collars. I played my part so well I almost forgot who I really was. Almost. There was a time I believed he’d change. That if I were just a little more obedient, a little more beautiful, a little more worthy, he might one day come home and see me, really see me, and love me the way I loved him but love like that doesn’t grow in cages and I’m done pretending. I’m done waiting for a man who never saw me as anything more than his father's leverage. Now?Now I want to fucking live.
Five Years Ago
“Ava! Oh, my sweet girl, look at you!”My mother’s voice trembles with emotion as she fusses over my wedding gown for the third time, dabbing delicately beneath her eyes so her mascara won’t smudge. She’s radiant in a champagne silk dress, smiling so wide it almost feels contagious. Almost. I stand still before the mirror, trying to feel something. Joy. Excitement. Hope. My Vera Wang gown is a masterpiece. Tight across my chest, it hugs my figure before flaring out into a train of ivory lace that trails behind me like royalty. My naturally pale blonde hair is pinned into a high bun, not a strand out of place. My veil falls from it like gossamer, a thin line of pearls glimmering in the light. My shoes are Jimmy Choo. My necklace is Bulgari. My earrings are antique diamonds from my father’s vault, a gift passed down from one mafia queen to the next. Today is the day I’ve been raised for. My eighteenth birthday. My wedding day. I’ve never met my husband but I know his name, Nico Moretti. Seven years older. One of the youngest billionaires in the world. Owner of more than a hundred legitimate businesses, and God only knows how many illegal ones. My father calls him “a man of vision.” My mother calls him “a dream match.” Me? I just call him… unknown. But I’ve been trained not to question. Daddy says this is my birthright. That girls like me are born to secure alliances, to make peace through vows instead of bullets. So I hope. I pray. I hope Nico is kind. That he’ll speak softly. That he’ll look at me not like I’m property, but a person. I pray he’ll be the husband I’ve been promised, a protector, a provider. Someone who might one day look at me not as a duty, but as his. My heart is a fluttering bird in a golden cage, and even as the doors close around me, I tell myself this is happiness. That this is the start of something beautiful.
"Ava, are you ready?" my father asks as he steps into the room.
"I'm ready, Daddy," I reply, though the words catch in my throat. The lump of anxiety lodged there is thick, suffocating. "Good. Everything will go perfectly today. The Moretti and Campelli families will finally be joined." He doesn’t mention the dress I spent hours being stitched into, or the way my hair was curled and pinned into place with jeweled clips that feel more like a crown of thorns. But that’s not surprising, my father has never been one for sentiment. His love is measured in power, legacy, and alliances. He offers his arm. Silently, I take it.We walk together down the long corridor toward the cathedral’s grand entrance. The hallway is quiet except for the soft click of my heels on marble. The walls are blanketed with roses, blush pink and ivory white, carefully chosen to represent purity and union. Sunlight spills in through stained glass windows, casting fractured rainbows across the stone floor. With every step, the weight of what I’m walking toward grows heavier. We pause behind a cluster of bridesmaids and flower girls, distant cousins and daughters of family allies. I barely know most of them but I don’t mind. This day isn’t about friendship. It’s about duty. The soft swell of a piano begins behind the doors. My heart skips a beat. The massive oak panels creak as they begin to part. I lower my veil with trembling fingers and square my shoulders.
I was born for this. Bred for this.
My life isn’t my own, but today, I give it away anyway. For family. For legacy. For peace.Bab terbaru
Bound By Blood And Vows. Roses and Ruin.
While Ava escorted our guests outside. I quickly made my way to the sunroom to make sure everything was perfect. The candles flickered low, casting delicate shadows along the whitewashed brick walls, soft and warm like the memory of her smile. Golden light kissed the table I had obsessed over all night, two places set precisely, silverware aligned so sharply it could’ve passed for weapons. Napkins folded like roses sat beside porcelain-white plates. The chef had just finished plating the dessert, a rich dark chocolate torte with raspberry drizzle, her favorite and left without a word, sensing the gravity in the air. The wine breathed in crystal decanters. Vintage. Handpicked. Just like she used to talk about when she still talked to me. I remembered every detail. The year, the flavor, the way her nose would scrunch when the tannins were too sharp. Everything tonight was perfect. Every little thing was for her. Now all I needed to do was go and ask her to join me, to give me a chance t
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-07-23Bound By Blood And Vows. She's A Weapon.
It’d been a week. Seven days since Ava slammed that door in my face. Since she looked at me like I was nothing. Since the last time I’d felt her eyes on me, warm or otherwise. And in that time, the house had gone quiet in the most unsettling way. The halls didn’t echo with her humming anymore. The kitchen didn’t smell like fresh herbs or soft bread or anything remotely comforting. The place felt cold. Hollow. Like it was mourning her too. If she came out of that room, it was only when I was gone, off handling business or pacifying problems I didn’t give two shits about. Because truthfully, none of it mattered if she kept disappearing like this. Kerry-Anne had overstayed her welcome two days ago, but she kept popping up at my side like a fucking leech. Every little sigh, every comment about how "some women just aren't built for this life" made my skin crawl. She wasn’t subtle, and I was past the point of politeness. But still, she lingered, and I let her, out of guilt, out of habit, ou
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-07-23Bound By Blood And Vows. Too Far.
The door slammed behind me with a thunderous crack, echoing down the hallway. I wasn’t even sure where I was walking anymore, just away. Away from that kitchen, from the eyes that saw too much. From Domonic. From her. Ava. God, her name felt like a wound. A clean cut that never quite bled, just burned. I reached the study and braced my hands on the edge of the desk, jaw clenched so hard it ached. My knuckles were white, pressing into the mahogany like it could ground me. Like anything could.“You’re an asshole,” Domonic’s voice rang out behind me as he pushed into the room without knocking. Of course.I didn’t turn. “Not now.”“Tough shit,” he snapped. “We’re having this out whether you like it or not.”I stood straight, slowly, turning to face him. His face was tight with fury, chest rising and falling with barely leashed restraint.“You don’t get to treat her like that, Nico. You don’t get to sit at the head of the table, playing the fucking king, while your wife’s over there being
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-07-23Bound By Blood And Vows. A Spark Of Dignity.
I slipped the card into the pages of an old poetry book—one of the few things I brought with me when I married Nico. It was worn, faded, and absolutely unread by anyone in this house but me. I slid it back into the top shelf of my closet, behind an old shoebox and beneath a cashmere scarf I never wore. My fingers lingered on the book’s spine, my heart thudding. The card wasn’t just a number. It was a promise. A whisper of a door creaking open. I wasn’t ready to walk through it yet... but knowing it was there gave me something I hadn’t had in a long time. Choice. By the time I made it downstairs, the house had softened. The meeting was over. The men had peeled off to the lounge and surrounding rooms, and the usual tension had lifted, if only slightly. I found comfort in the rhythm of movement—sautéing garlic and herbs, slicing bread, pouring wine. Familiar tasks. Tasks that didn’t expect anything more of me than heat and hands. The dining room was lighter than it had been just an hour
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-07-23Bound By Blood And Vows. A Door And A Key.
The dining room had been transformed into a cold, elegant war room. The long polished mahogany table gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers, its surface marked with faint rings from countless glasses and meetings before mine. Leather chairs, heavy and worn in just the right way, surrounded the table. The faint scent of expensive cigars lingered in the air, a sharp reminder of power, danger, and the weight of decisions made here. Nico sat at the head of the table as expected, a king surveying his court. His posture was impeccable, shoulders squared, gaze sharp but controlled. Around him sat the others, Hayden, alert and quietly commanding; Luca, ever-watchful with a faint scowl etched between his brows; Domonic, his presence solid and unshakable; Marco, a ruthless figure from Jersey whose reputation preceded him; and several other guests, some from New York, others from distant overseas operations. Men who carried influence and fear in equal measure and then there was me. I took my
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-07-23Bound By Blood And Vows. Everything I'm Not.
The smell of coffee fills the kitchen before the sun even fully rises. I move on autopilot, cracking eggs, buttering toast, frying bacon, anything to keep my hands busy and my thoughts at bay. I refuse to cry anymore. I did that last night, silently, after Hayden tucked me into bed like something fragile and broken. I don’t want to be fragile. I don’t want to be broken. So I cook. For them. Not for Nico. I don’t bother making his plate. The bruise on my cheek is darker today, a sick shade of plum that crawls toward my temple. Another, faint but unmistakable, rings faintly along the side of my neck where his fingers gripped me too tight. I don’t try to cover them. Let them see. Let them wonder. The first to come down is Hayden, hair damp from a shower. He pauses when he sees me. His eyes drop to the bruise, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. Just walks over and sets a hand gently on my shoulder, the warmth of it grounding me."You didn’t have to cook," he says softly."
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-07-23
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