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Chapter Forty-Three Part 2: The Purge

last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-04-04 12:29:41

Not from conditioning. Not from Dante's training. From something deeper. Primal. Real.

She liked it. The kill. The blood. The power. The control.

This was her first time. Ever. Taking a life. Holding death in her hands.

And she was good at it.

And she enjoyed it.

Her face stayed calm. Empty. Controlled. But inside—inside she felt it. The rush. The satisfaction. The rightness of it.

This was what she could be. Not what she'd been—storage manager, wife, daughter. Not even just what Dante made her
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  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Forty-Three Part 4: The Purge

    TARGETS ELEVEN AND TWELVE: ROMANO AND VEGA - THE FINALETwo left. Romano and Vega. Both trying to run. Both grabbed by guards. Forced to their knees in front of her.She stood before them. Weapons in both hands. Knife. Gun. Death in silk and lace."Dante," she said. Not looking away from the targets. "May I take my time with these?""Yes," Dante said. Voice thick with pride. With desire. With satisfaction. "They deserve it. They betrayed us the worst. Make them suffer."She smiled. Small. Real. Pleased.Romano first. She started with fingers. Cutting them off one by one. He screamed. Begged. She didn't stop. Methodical. Deliberate. Enjoying his pain. His terror. His understanding that this would not be quick.Then toes. Then ears. Then nose. Piece by piece. Watching him break. Watching him beg for death.When she finally granted it—knife through the eye socket—it was mercy.Vega had watched it all. Crying. Broken. Begging before she even touched him.She shot him. Gut shot. Painful. S

  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Forty-Three Part 3: The Purge

    TARGET SEVEN: RICHARDS - THE BACKUPRichards had bodyguards. Two of them. They stepped forward. Drawing guns. Protecting their boss."Stand down," Dante commanded.They didn't. Loyal. Stupid. Dead.She moved. Before they could aim. Before they could fire. Fast. Impossibly fast.First guard. She caught his gun hand. Twisted. Broke his wrist. He dropped the weapon. She caught it. Shot him with his own gun. Close range. Chest. Heart.Second guard. Fired. She was already moving. The bullet caught her side. Clean through. Tearing silk and flesh. Pain flaring hot and sharp.She didn't stop. Didn't slow. Barely registered it.Closed the distance. Kicked his knee. It buckled. He went down. She put two rounds in his head.Blood running down her side now. Her blood mixing with theirs. The dress soaking it up. Red on red. Barely visible.She didn't care. Didn't feel it. The adrenaline. The rush. The pleasure drowning out pain.Both guards dead in seconds.Richards stared. Horrified.She turned t

  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Forty-Three Part 2: The Purge

    Not from conditioning. Not from Dante's training. From something deeper. Primal. Real.She liked it. The kill. The blood. The power. The control.This was her first time. Ever. Taking a life. Holding death in her hands.And she was good at it.And she enjoyed it.Her face stayed calm. Empty. Controlled. But inside—inside she felt it. The rush. The satisfaction. The rightness of it.This was what she could be. Not what she'd been—storage manager, wife, daughter. Not even just what Dante made her—weapon, strategist, bride.But what she was discovering she was. A natural. A killer. Someone who could do this. Who was good at this. Who—who liked this.And she was very, very good at it.Dante watched her. Seeing it. The shift. The awakening. Smiled. "Beautiful. Perfect. Continue. Russo next."Isabella watched too. From her seat. Seeing her creation. Her theory proving true before her eyes. She'd wondered—if Novalee was meant to be Dante's perfect partner. His equal. Not just strategist. Not

  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Forty-Three Part 1: The Purge

    The recessional.Music swelled. Triumphant. Victorious. Celebrating.Dante took her hand. Led her back down the aisle. Past the guests. Past the cameras. Past the witnesses.Mr. and Mrs. Santoro.Husband and wife.Legally bound. Forever.The guests applauded. The cameras recorded. The broadcast continued. Showing the world. Showing Triplicity. Showing everyone.Dante's triumph. His beautiful bride. His perfect weapon now legally, permanently his.They exited the church. Into waiting cars. Black. Tinted. Guarded.To the reception. The celebration. The purge.---The venue. A grand estate. Dante's family property. Beautiful. Elegant. Perfect for a wedding.Perfect for executions.Ballroom. Crystal chandeliers. White tablecloths. Flowers everywhere. Elegant. Expensive. Traditional.And cameras. Still recording. Still broadcasting. The reception. The celebration. The consolidation.Guests filtered in. Taking seats. The twelve targets scattered throughout. Marked. Doomed. Unaware.Russo. F

  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Forty-Two Part 2: The Ceremony

    And there it was. The aisle. Long. White. Leading to Dante. At the altar. Waiting. Smiling. Victorious.Atlas felt her hand tighten on his arm. Saw her go still. Saw her leaving. Disappearing into function. Into performance. Into the bride."Breathe," he whispered. "I've got you. We do this together. One step at a time. You're not alone."She nodded. Barely. Then they stepped forward.Into the church. Into the ceremony. Into forever.The guests rose. Turning. Watching. Seeing the bride. Beautiful. Perfect. Radiant.Not seeing the weapon. The captive. The girl walking to her execution.Cameras tracked her progress. Red lights blinking. Recording. Broadcasting. Every step. Every moment. Sent live to screens across Triplicity. To allies. To enemies. To everyone who needed to see Dante's triumph.His beautiful bride walking toward him. Proof of his power. His control. His complete victory.They walked. Slow. Measured. Traditional. Every step deliberate. Every moment eternal. Every second

  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Forty-Two Part 1: The Ceremony

    The church.Beautiful. Traditional. Catholic. Where generations of Santoros had married. Where power was blessed. Where ownership became holy.Cameras lined the walls. Professional crews. Reporters with microphones. Lights. Equipment. Everything needed to broadcast this. To the world. To Triplicity. To every family, every organization, every power player who needed to see.This wasn't just a wedding. This was a statement. A declaration. A consolidation made public.Dante Santoro marrying his bride. His strategist. His weapon. Showing the world his power. His control. His new order.The girl arrived in a black car. Tinted windows. Guards. Isabella beside her.She wore the dress. Ivory silk and lace. Off-shoulder. Flowing. Hair perfect. Makeup flawless. Veil in place. Ready.The bride.Mrs. Santoro-to-be.And soon to be broadcast across every screen in the criminal underworld. The beautiful bride. The perfect wife. The symbol of Dante's victory.They entered through a side door. Private

  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Twenty-Four Part 4: Day One

    She helped the girl sit up. Removed her legs from the stirrups."That's actually useful," Isabella said to Atlas. "It means the trauma is buried deep. Walled off. Her mind has protected itself by severing all connection to those experiences. We can rebuild without those memories interfering.""Or s

    last updateTerakhir Diperbarui : 2026-04-04
  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Twenty-Three Part 3: The Shell

    Hours passed.Dante waited outside. Pacing. Smoking. Drinking.Atlas found him there. Bandaged. Stitched. His chest wrapped where Novalee had slashed him."How is she?" Atlas asked."The same. Worse. I don't know." Dante took a drink. "My mother's with her."Atlas's expression darkened. "Isabella?

    last updateTerakhir Diperbarui : 2026-04-03
  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Twenty-Three Part 1: The Shell

    Novalee didn't sleep. Didn't cry. Didn't move.She lay in Dante's bed, staring at the ceiling. Covered in James's dried blood. His blood crusted in her hair, under her fingernails, in the creases of her skin.Dante carried her to the bathroom. Filled the tub with warm water.She didn't resist. Didn

    last updateTerakhir Diperbarui : 2026-04-02
  • Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir   Chapter Twenty-One Part 1: The Husband

    Day Twenty-Four.Dante came in the morning."He arrives in an hour," he said. Smiling. "I thought you'd want time to prepare."Novalee's blood ran cold.James. James was coming. In an hour.Alone.Greysen had died weeks ago. Protecting her at the safehouse. Shot while trying to get her out.James h

    last updateTerakhir Diperbarui : 2026-04-01
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