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Chapter 54
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2025-06-09 00:01:52“I was going to tell you.”
His voice came from behind her, quiet but certain. Seraphina didn’t flinch, though her breath caught in her throat like a string pulled too tight.
She didn’t turn around. Not yet. Not until she was ready.
The folder on the desk still lay open, pages splayed like wounds. Her name stared back at her in Lucien’s tight, slanted handwriting. Not a spy’s surveillance. A lover’s quiet reckoning.
She pressed her fingers to the desk’s edge, grounding herself in the cold wood. “So it’s true. You’ve been watching me.”
Lucien stepped into the room. The door clicked softly behind him.
“I watched to protect you. Never to trap you.”
“That’s what people always say when they want you to believe the bars weren’t there.”
Now she turned, and her eyes locked onto his. There was no venom in her voice. Just the quiet
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It started with a breath—shallow, uneven, but new.Seraphina’s head snapped up from where she sat curled beside Lucien’s bed. For a moment she wasn’t sure. But then, again—his chest rose a little more deeply.And then his fingers twitched.“Lucien…” she whispered, reaching for his hand.His eyelids fluttered.The machines surrounding him beeped steadily, not frantically as they had for days. The monitors registered the change first—his vitals spiked just enough to draw the attention of the attending nurse, who rushed inside and radioed for Dr. Merez.But Seraphina didn’t move from his side. She leaned forward, her fingers threaded through his.Lucien’s brow furrowed. His lips parted, then closed again.“Lucien, it’s me. You’re safe,” she said, voice trembling. “You’re in the hospital. You made it. We got you out.”He let out a low groan, and his eyes finally opened.Dimly. Slowly. But they opened.Storm-colored irises—rare and arresting—gazed back at her, almost silver when the light
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The persistent beep of Lucien’s heart monitor gave Seraphina strength. A rhythm of resistance. He still hadn’t woken up, but his vitals were stronger, his breaths more even.She sat beside him, eyes hollowed with sleepless nights. The hospital room was quiet, but her mind raced with unfinished wars.The door creaked open. Vincenzo stepped in with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder and a look that meant business.“I hope you didn’t think you’d get a break,” he said.She stood. “Tell me.”He set the laptop down on the tray table and powered it on. “Matteo’s buried in code and digital footprints, but he’s hit a wall. So, he thought of someone else.”Her eyes narrowed. “Me?”“You learned from the best,” Vincenzo said gently. “And we’re not talking about Detective Elian.”Seraphina hesitated, then slowly nodded. “My mother.”Vincenzo slid a drive from his coat pocket. “Detective Elian gave me this. Your mom’s files—everything she compiled before she died. Surveillance logs, offshore acco
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Cyra returned to the private compound beneath a sky as black as the thoughts racing through her mind.Her shoulder throbbed beneath her coat. The forged nurse’s uniform she’d used to sneak into the hospital was stained with dried blood—her own. She didn’t bother fixing her hair before the front gates opened, nor did she wait to be announced. She stepped straight into the lion’s den.Inside the sprawling limestone estate, Vale Sr. waited, glass in hand, the fireplace roaring behind him. His expression was unreadable—calm, elegant, and deeply unsettling. The flickering flames made shadows dance across the heavy rug beneath his feet.“You’re late,” he said.Cyra didn’t flinch. “Security was tighter than expected. The Marchesi bastard’s surrounded by a rotating perimeter of mafia soldiers, Interpol agents, and a woman who shoots like she was raised by mercenaries.”Vale Sr. turned slowly. “You failed.”Cyra bowed her head. “I tried. I almost had it. The syringe was at the IV line. They in
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The heart monitor stuttered, then began beeping faster—more stable, more rhythmic. Seraphina’s head jerked up, eyes locking on the screen as hope bloomed like fire in her chest.He wasn’t out of the woods.But Lucien Marchesi was fighting.“Lucien…” she whispered, leaning forward to touch his hand. Still clammy. Still cold. But his fingers twitched beneath hers. That was enough.She glanced down at Lucio, small hands curled near his chin. Her throat tightened. She knew what had to come next, and it shattered something inside her.A few hours later, Detective Elian returned, dressed in civilian clothes, his badge stowed out of sight. He saw the look on Seraphina’s face before she spoke.“I need you to take Lucio,” she said quietly, lifting the sleeping boy into her arms. “Somewhere Gabe Vale Sr. won’t find him. Somewhere no one will.”Elian blinked. “You trust me with him?”“I trust you with my life,” she said. “And right now, he is my life.”Detective Elian nodded once. No need for ce
Chains of Velvet, Heart of Fire Chapter 118
The hospital corridor flooded with chaos the moment the SUV screeched to a halt.Matteo yanked open the back door, and Seraphina stumbled out, Lucien’s limp, bloodied body cradled against her chest. His head lolled to the side, lips pale, a crimson stain blooming through the pressure wrap she'd been holding since the gunfight.Her scream tore down the sterile hall like a blade.“We need help—he’s dying!”Nurses sprinted from the ER bay as Matteo and Anton lifted Lucien onto the gurney. Vincenzo barked into his phone, clearing the entrance. “Get the damn OR ready now—we’re not losing him!”“He’s not breathing right—he’s losing blood—he was stable five minutes ago!” Seraphina shouted, barely coherent as she ran beside the gurney, her hand still pressed to Lucien’s side.The nurse tried to restrain her. “Ma’am—please, we’ll take it from here.”“No—you don’t understand. If he dies—” Her voice cracked, too close to breaking.Vincenzo grabbed her shoulders. “Sera. Let them work. You did eve
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The night split open with the shriek of tires and the bark of engines. Matteo’s hands gripped the wheel with unnerving calm as the SUV surged forward, headlights cutting through the wet fog rising from the asphalt. Behind them, twin black vehicles swerved through traffic, relentless as vultures on a scent.Seraphina clutched Lucien’s blood-soaked shirt, her fingers trembling as she pressed against his chest, eyes flicking to his face, pale and unconscious. His dark lashes fluttered faintly, a small sign—one she clung to like prayer.“We’ve got two tails,” Anton said from the rear seat, peering through the shattered back window. “One at our six, the other flanking left.”Vincenzo had his Glock pressed to the edge of the window frame. “Gabe’s bastards came prepared,” he muttered, then shouted over the engine roar, “Matteo! You lose them yet?”“I’m just getting warmed up,” Matteo replied, voice calm but cold as a blade.With a twist of the wheel, he took a hard left, tires screaming agai
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