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Chapter 74: THE COLLAPSE.
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2025-12-05 22:57:56
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CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 85: THE HOMECOMING.
The transfer was executed with the meticulous, iron-clad security that I allowed for no other operational task. The medical wing was closed, the specialists dismissed with generous severance, and the path from the adjoining suite to the main house was secured by a triple perimeter of my best men. Isabella was not simply moving apartments; she was leaving the zone of sickness and entering the zone of life.The morning was brilliant, the Russian sun reflecting blindingly off the fresh, crystalline snow that covered the estate. It was a beautiful, stark backdrop, perfectly reflecting the clean slate we were carving out of the chaos.Isabella was dressed in soft, warm layers, leaning heavily on my arm as we walked the short distance down the hallway. She was still frail, but the fear in her eyes was replaced by a quiet, determined focus. She wore a small, private smile that had become increasingly frequent since the boys’ visit—a smile of sheer, stubborn survival.We paused at the wide, a
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 84: DOMENICO'S ACCEPTANCE.
Three days had passed since Isabella's emotional awakening and the difficult conversation about Giovanni’s burial. She was recovering with astonishing speed, demanding to be moved from the sterile medical suite to the light-filled main bedroom, where she could at least look out over the snow-covered grounds and feel less confined. She was sitting up now, leaning against the pillows, her movements still slow, but imbued with the determined resilience that I loved.The twins were a frequent, though brief, presence, brought in multiple times a day for short supervised holds. Each visit was a necessary dose of healing for Isabella, cementing the reality of the life she had fought for.Domenico arrived that evening. He came alone, having flown in immediately after finalizing the last of the operational handovers to Ivan and Alexander in Milan. His visit was not one of hurried condolence; it was a formal summit, necessary to seal the foundation of the new world we had built on the ashes of
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 83: THE TRUTH OF REDEMPTION.
The medical suite had returned to its muted calm. The twins had been wheeled back to the nursery, but the brief, life-affirming visit had done more for Isabella than any medical intervention. She was physically exhausted but spiritually lucid. She lay back on the pillows, her hand resting gently over her heart, a faint, lingering trace of the boys’ warmth still clinging to her linen gown.I was back in my chair, holding her hand again, this time with a shared, quiet strength. The earlier frenzy of relief had subsided, leaving behind the heavy, unavoidable task we both knew was waiting. We had saved the future; now we had to bury the past.She looked at me, her eyes softer than I had seen them in months, yet infinitely sad.“My father,” she started, her voice barely a breath. “I remember the sound. I remember him looking at me, telling me to run. To be strong.” A shudder ran through her. “And then the silence. The sound of Damon… laughing.”She trailed off, her breathing becoming shall
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 82: A MOTHER'S EMBRACE.
The minutes that followed the doctor’s hurried exit were an eternity carved out of pure anticipation. The air in the medical suite, usually so cold and clinical, felt suddenly charged, electrified by Isabella’s awakened presence and her desperate need. I remained by her side, my hand gripping the rail of the bed, feeling the tremor of her body as she struggled to rise, fighting the sedatives still dulling her limbs.“Vova, please. Are they… are they truly here?” she pleaded, her voice a thin, fragile thread that cut through my composure.“Yes, Zvezda moya. They are just across the hall,” I assured her, gently easing her back against the pillows. “Petrova is bringing them in their travel incubators. They need the sterile environment for a few more days, but you will see them. You will hold them.”Her eyes, dark pools of residual pain and overwhelming anxiety, fixed on the doorway. The grief for Giovanni was still visibly etched around her mouth, a silent, secondary wound, but the mater
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 81: THE AWAKENING.
The room was no longer the sterile, overwhelming white of the hospital, but a custom-built medical suite adjoining the main nursery of the Russian estate. Yet, the atmosphere remained the same: suspended, silent, and heavy with unspoken dread. A month. A month since the bloody, panicked extraction from Paros. Two weeks since she was wheeled into surgery to save her life and the lives of our twin sons. Two weeks of her lying still, fighting the overwhelming exhaustion and the violence of the world I brought to her.I sat in the chair by her bedside, where I had spent every hour that wasn't spent coordinating the final cleanup of the Spanish Mafia. My presence was a silent, relentless anchor. I hadn’t shaved, hadn’t slept for a full block of four hours, and had barely left this ten-foot radius. The nurses moved around us like ghosts, adjusting monitors, checking drips, but they knew better than to speak to me unless necessary.I was holding her hand. Not the soft, tentative holding of t
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 80: THE BURIAL.
Three days after the collapse and the birth of my sons, I finally left Isabella's side.Viktor had arranged everything with the cold precision of a military strategist: two separate ceremonies, on two different continents, with a gap of only four hours between them. The organization demanded protocol, even in death. Irina, my mother, was being laid to rest in the ancestral vault in Russia. Giovanni, the former Don Romano, was being buried outside Palermo, his presence required by the old traditions of the Cosa Nostra.I flew first to the quiet, snow-dusted grounds in Moscow. It was a private ceremony, attended only by the core Volkov hierarchy—Viktor, my captains, and a handful of my mother’s oldest servants. I wore the black uniform of my office, a mask of unyielding stone.I stood beside the marble mausoleum, looking down at the heavy, closed casket. My mother had died months ago, her loss absorbed into the endless, grinding cycle of my command. But standing there now, after the cos
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