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Chapter Forty-Three Part 3: The Purge
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2026-04-04 12:30:04
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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 Eight Part 3: The Lingerie
He gripped the silk teddy and tore it open down the middle, the fabric ripping like skin. Novalee gasped, tried to cover herself, but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head again."Don't hide from me." His free hand explored her exposed skin, rough and possessive. "This body belongs to
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2026-03-18Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir Chapter Eight Part 4: The Lingerie
Time became meaningless.He took her again an hour later. And again after that. Each time was different—different positions, different words, different ways of making her suffer. On her back. On her stomach. Bent over the edge of the bed. Against the window overlooking the city, forcing her to see
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2026-03-18Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir Chapter Fourteen Part 2:The Fall
"GREYSEN!" Novalee collapsed over their body. Sobbing. Covered in their blood. "No! Come back! Please come back!"James had tears streaming down his face. His hand on Novalee's back. "Nova, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"Neither of them saw Dante move.The rifle butt caught James in the side of the head
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2026-03-23Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir Chapter Twelve Part 3: The Trap
At 2:55 PM, they stood in the living room with their bags. James and Novalee with hastily packed duffels. Greysen with their prepared bag. Mateo and Jackson finishing the explosive setup."Charges are set," Mateo reported. "Pressure plates on the door. Remote detonator as backup. When Dante's peopl
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2026-03-22
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