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The Vessel’s First Choice
Last Updated:
2025-08-24 03:19:04
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Bride of the Mafia cripple The Council’s Hand
The knock came at midnight.Not the polite kind, not the deferential tap that staff used when approaching their Don. This one was thunder—fists pounding the oak doors with authority that dared no delay.Leora jolted awake. The girl in red stirred beside her pallet by the fireplace, blinking at the sound. Allerick was already in his chair, motionless, listening.“Council,” he said.The word was an executioner’s bell.---The grand hall burned with candlelight when Allerick rolled forward to meet them. Three men entered, flanked by silent guards whose suits gleamed with weapons beneath the fabric. Their eyes didn’t wander; they locked on the girl in red at once.Leora instinctively stepped in front of her.“Move,” one of them ordered. His voice was like gravel dragged across stone.“No,” Leora snapped.The spokesman’s lips curled. “You overreach, donna. You forget your place.”But Allerick’s voice cracked through the tension, deep and imperious:“Her place,” he said, “is beside me. And
Bride of the Mafia cripple The Vessel’s First Choice
The girl in red had never been seen outside her glass chamber.Until now.Leora didn’t know who had unlatched the door—or if it had been the girl herself—but when she descended to the corridor the next evening, the chamber was open.Empty.Her pulse spiked. “No…”Footsteps echoed behind her. She spun, half-expecting guards, but it was Allerick. His chair moved silently across the stone, shadows clinging to him like smoke.“She’s gone.” His voice was neither surprised nor alarmed. Just… inevitable.Leora’s throat tightened. “Gone where?”Allerick’s mouth curved into something between grim amusement and warning. “That is the question, isn’t it? A vessel with a will is like a loaded gun on the table. No one knows who will pick it up first.”---They found her in the library.The girl in red sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scattered books. Pages torn, spines cracked, words spilling like blood across the carpet. She didn’t look up when Leora entered, but her hands trembled as
Bride of the Mafia cripple The First Flame
The girl in red didn’t open the notebook for three days.Leora counted. She kept her composure in front of Allerick, endured Vael’s warnings, and wore the mask of a dutiful bride at the dinner table where silence was thicker than the wine. But inside, every hour pressed against her ribs like a stone.Three days.She wondered if the girl even remembered how to read, or if the letters had been stripped from her like everything else. She wondered if the Council had already reviewed the surveillance feed, replayed the exact moment she pressed the notebook through the glass, and stamped her fate with ink too dark to wash away.On the fourth day, Vael came to her.“She wrote something.”Leora’s breath caught. “What?”He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he placed a single torn page in her hand. The edges were frayed, the ink smudged as though written in haste—or fury.Leora read the words once. Then twice.I dreamt I had a mouth.Her hand trembled around the paper. It wasn’t a confession.
Bride of the Mafia cripple Paper Cuts
The girl in red turned the notebook over in her hands as though afraid the pages might bleed. Her thumbs brushed across the worn cover, tracing the letters like they were carved into stone. She hadn’t opened it yet.Leora waited.The silence stretched, thick as glass between them.Finally, the girl whispered: “Stories are dangerous.”Leora pressed her palm against the barrier, her breath clouding the glass. “Then it’s the right kind of danger.”The girl lowered her gaze, lashes dark against pale skin. She hugged the notebook to her chest like a child clutching a fragile toy. And for the first time since Leora had seen her, something cracked in that mask of stillness. Not rebellion. Not joy. But… tremor.A seed.Leora’s throat tightened. She wanted to say more—about the sun, about names, about how the world was worth bleeding for—but a sound stopped her.A hiss.The air vents above shifted. Cold, sterile wind washed down the corridor. And with it, the unmistakable click of cameras rea
Bride of the Mafia cripple The Girl in Red
“There is nothing more terrifying than meeting the version of yourself that didn’t get a choice.”She wasn’t in the vault.She wasn’t in the house either.They’d buried her deeper than memory.The entrance was hidden behind the old greenhouse, obscured by overgrown ivy and crumbling brick. It looked like nothing—just a forgotten root cellar sealed with rusted hinges and a padlock no one paid attention to. Except one person.Vael’s hand shook slightly as he fit the key into the lock.“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered, almost to himself. “The Council will know. They’ll feel it if she’s disturbed.”Leora stood behind him, eyes narrowed and fists clenched tight at her sides.“Then let them know,” she said coldly. “Let them feel it.”With a reluctant twist, the lock gave way. Metal scraped against metal. The door opened inward with a groan that echoed too long, like the earth itself didn’t want her to descend.The air that rose up from the cellar wasn’t stale—it was sterile. Clean,
Bride of the Mafia cripple The Council’s Eyes
> “They don’t kill you with guns. They kill you with blueprints.”Leora didn’t sleep.Not even for a moment.She sat curled by the window, her forehead resting against the cool glass, Eliora’s journal clutched tight to her chest like armor. Outside, the moon hung high and pale, its light the only thing keeping the dark from swallowing her whole.But inside?Inside, it had already happened.There was no room for sleep when your entire identity had been rewritten by someone else’s agenda.She had read the entries again. Every word Eliora had written in that trembling, careful hand.A bloodline.A backup girl in red.The Council.Leora wasn’t just here by chance.She wasn’t just a replacement bride.She was a result.The thought made her stomach churn. She’d once believed fate had brought her here—that perhaps there was something poetic in her crossing paths with a broken heir, a cursed estate, a twisted love story just waiting to be rewritten.But fate had nothing to do with it.She had
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