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Chapter Eighty
Last Updated:
2025-09-13 06:51:20
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Kingdom of Ash and Blood Chapter One Hundred and Six
They said Sicilian weddings were sacred. Ancient. A dance between family, God, and blood. But this one—this was war in white silk. The cathedral rose like a shadow over Palermo’s oldest square. Stone walls draped in crimson banners, gold thread tracing the Moretti crest like veins across a dying heart. Rose petals scattered the marble aisle, but beneath them—Amara knew—were cracks. Deep. Dangerous. She stood before the mirror in the bridal suite, staring at the reflection of a woman she didn’t recognize. Her. Draped in ivory lace, cinched at the waist, neckline daring, collarbones sharp enough to draw blood. Her hair, braided back in a crown. A blade was tucked into her garter. Another into her boot. “You look like a queen,” Sora whispered behind her. Amara didn’t smile. “I look like bait.” The Arrangement The wedding wasn’t real. Not in the way little girls dreamed. It was strategy. A power move. A vow between Luca Moretti and Amara Varela meant a united front—Moretti emp
Kingdom of Ash and Blood Chapter One Hundred and Five
Naples was not a city. It was a battlefield disguised in limestone and silk. The scent of sea salt barely covered the rot beneath — a place where old money danced with blood, and secrets were bought by the gram. Amara had stepped into a thousand dangerous rooms, but this one… this one was breathing. Inside the ancient opera house turned underground auction ring, everything was velvet and shadow. She wore black — slit up the side, low across the back, her hair pinned in a coil of thorns. Luca walked beside her in a midnight suit, his jaw locked, his eyes scanning every threat like a beast leashed too tight. “Two hours,” he murmured. “Then we burn it.” Amara’s lips curled. “Try not to kill anyone before I get the bid in.” Luca’s eyes darkened. “Not a promise I can keep.” Behind the Curtain They entered through the VIP wing. The marble floors gleamed with blood money. Men in tuxedos and women draped in diamonds passed glasses of aged wine like communion. Milo Nero’s intel had b
Kingdom of Ash and Blood Chapter One Hundred and Four
There was a kind of silence after betrayal — not peace, not shock — just a burning hum in the chest that echoed with every breath. Amara felt it now. The letter from Isabel lay in pieces on her bed. Her hands were stained with ink and ash. Do not kill her out of rage. Kill her out of love. The Red Widow wasn’t just a threat. She was the ghost of Isabel’s mistakes. And she had to die. The Origin of the Widow The next morning, Luca found Amara on the rooftop, overlooking the rose gardens below. The air smelled like thunder and wine. “She was born as Leticia,” he said quietly. Amara didn’t turn around. “She was trafficked through Eastern Europe at nine. Sold twice. Found by Isabel in a Turkish brothel when she was barely fourteen.” Amara’s jaw tightened. “Isabel trained her,” Luca continued. “Gave her purpose. But the girl wanted more than vengeance — she wanted to become what the world feared. Isabel tried to pull her back.” “She failed.” “No. She spared her. That was the
Kingdom of Ash and Blood Chapter One Hundred and Three
The Nero estate shimmered beneath candlelight and storm clouds. Tonight was no ordinary gathering. It was a masquerade hosted in honor of Mikhail’s blood pact — a strategic performance designed to smoke out threats and introduce allies. But beneath the opulence, every step whispered danger. Amara stood before the mirror, her mask a delicate filigree of onyx and red garnet, forged in the shape of a spider’s web. Fitting. Tonight, she would face the woman called The Red Widow. She had been mentioned only in code — seen in photographs, never in person. But Amara felt it in her gut. Tonight, the enemy would walk among them. And she'd be ready. The Masquerade Begins The grand ballroom swelled with music and murmurs. Chandeliers reflected off the marble, casting fractured light across silk gowns and masked faces. Luca appeared beside her like a phantom — dressed in tailored black, mask carved with Sicilian silver. His presence burned beside hers. “Can you feel it?” she murmured.
Kingdom of Ash and Blood Chapter One Hundred and Two
The moon sat like a blade in the sky.Amara stood on the edge of the Blood Courtyard, the crimson-tiled grounds whispering with the footsteps of men who had died for thrones. Tonight, she wasn’t here for war.She was here for something colder.Mikhail’s pact ceremony.Dozens of cloaked figures lined the courtyard, heads bowed beneath the sigil of the Ouroboros — the serpent consuming itself. The symbol of Nero’s new world. A kingdom of blood, ruled not by cartels, but by legacy.And now, she was being asked to become part of it.Mikhail stood beneath the black marble archway, dressed in ceremonial Nero black, a long dagger in hand.“You can walk away, Amara,” he said as she stepped closer. “But if you step into this circle, you swear by blood.”“I don’t kneel,” she said flatly.“You won’t have to. This isn’t about subservience.”“Then what is it about?”Mikhail tilted his head. “An oath — to never let what happened to our mother happen again.”The words struck like a whip. Isabel. Eve
Kingdom of Ash and Blood Chapter One Hundred and One
Barcelona, Spain — The Black CitadelThe private jet touched down just before dusk.Barcelona was painted in blood-orange light, its Gothic skyline clawing the sky like fangs. Amara stood at the window of the black SUV waiting on the tarmac, her jaw tight, heart cold. This wasn’t just another city.This was his city.Mikhail Nero.The man who was her brother by blood.Her rival by birthright.Luca sat beside her, silent. Ever since the video message, he hadn’t spoken much. But the tension between them crackled like dry firewood. And beneath it all, jealousy smoldered.They weren’t just driving into enemy territory.They were driving into family.The Black CitadelThe gates of the estate were tall enough to drown the sun. Black iron. Coiled in serpentine detail. The guards didn’t frisk her. Didn’t scan her.They bowed.The doors opened with a hiss.The entrance hall was cathedral-like. Silver mosaics inlaid with the Varela symbol—altered. Instead of a crown, it bore the Ouroboros. The
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