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Chapter 86: THE CONFESSION AND CLAIM.
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2025-12-22 23:51:11
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CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 89: THE BROTHER'S FORGIVENESS.
The transition from the war room to the nursery had been jarring, but necessary. After the meeting with Domenico, I had returned immediately, needing to ground myself in the quiet reality of my family. I spent the afternoon holding Giovanni, watching the small, peaceful breaths that expanded and contracted his chest, a testament to Isabella’s fight.Isabella was asleep now, resting heavily in our bed after a difficult bout of weeping. She had allowed me to hold her hand until her eyes finally closed, a small concession that felt monumental. I sat in the dimly lit living area near the fireplace, an open book unread in my lap, Giovanni nestled against my shoulder. The air was cool, clean, and silent, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the soft, rhythmic puffing of the baby.A discreet signal flashed on my personal secure monitor. The guard detail confirmed an arrival: Rocco and Salvatore. They were back from Milan, where they had finalized the initial financial lockdown with Dom
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 87: THE FIRST SMILE.
The nursery was the only truly quiet room in the house, yet it held the deepest tension. It was vast, intentionally designed to be a haven of pale silks and soft lighting, overlooking a silent, snow-dusted garden. But the peace was a lie. It was a holding pattern around Isabella’s grief.I stood by the threshold, my shoulder braced against the cool stone frame, observing. This was my role now: the perpetual sentinel. I could command armies, freeze global markets, and tear down steel with my bare hands, but here, I was useless—a silent observer to a war being fought in the fragile landscape of a woman's soul.Isabella was seated in the wide, cushioned rocker, one twin—Leo—cradled in her arms, while the other—Dmitri—slept soundly in the bassinet beside her. Months had passed since the doctors confirmed the miracle: she was fully awake, recovering with a strength that defied the trauma, and the boys were robust, miniature reflections of the conflict and the love that created them. Yet, w
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 87: THE POWER VACUUM.
The room smelled faintly of burnt coffee and old steel. It was a sterile, temporary command center located in a nondescript financial district in Milan—a neutral territory that felt far from the ruins of Paros and even farther from the relative peace of my Russian home. The windows were opaque, sealing us off from the noise and light of the Italian city below. It was exactly the kind of environment designed to enforce focus, yet I found my mind wandering constantly, pulled back to the one person who mattered.I ran a hand over the rough stubble on my jaw. It had been seven days since Isabella had woken up from the coma. Months since the final, terrifying wave of relief had hit me, only to be immediately replaced by the crushing reality of her grief. Domenico and I had avoided this meeting until the last possible moment, but the vacuum left by Damon Salvatore's eradication was becoming a security risk across three continents. The financial world, unlike my wife, refused to wait.Domeni
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter 86: THE CONFESSION AND CLAIM.
The silence that descended upon the Volkov estate after midnight was absolute. The house slept—guarded, but peaceful. The heavy stone walls held the sleeping breaths of our twin sons, the watchful silence of the guards, and the profound, quiet peace of a battle won.Isabella was next to me, propped on the pillows of our massive bed. She had been gently watching me since I emerged from the en-suite after a long, necessary shower. I had shaved, cut away the weeks of grime and desperation, and now felt the sharp, cold edge of my own control return, but it was control tempered by the fragility of the woman beside me.She was wearing a simple silk chemise that barely covered her, a small concession to the deep chill of the Russian night, but it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen her wear. The faint light from the bathroom cast her in shadows and soft edges, making her look both ethereal and achingly real.I climbed into the bed, the mattress shifting slightly under my weight, and
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
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