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CHAPTER 14

Author: Flowervil
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-26 21:01:00

Alessia Moretti

The drive from the university to Nikolai’s penthouse was a blur. My thoughts had been consumed by Marcello’s words, each one cutting deeper than the last. I hadn’t realized how much pain I had been hiding—how much I had been pretending to ignore. The way Marcello had looked at me, that desperation, that pleading… it was a reminder of a life I couldn’t escape, a past I couldn’t seem to shake.

I’d never wanted to hurt Marcello. I cared for him, once. But the man I was now engaged to—Nikolai Volkov—had made it clear that there was no room for any other man in my life. And yet, here I was, still haunted by the ghost of the past.

I barely even registered the tall, imposing building in front of me as the car came to a stop. I hadn’t even realized we’d reached the penthouse. All I could think about was the conversation with Marcello, how I felt like I was suffocating under the weight of my choices.

Before I could gather my thoughts, the door opened, and there he stood—Nikol
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  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 69

    Dante MorettiI used to believe I held the reins of my empire with a firm and calculating grip. But Viktor Natov was not a man who tolerated boundaries. His thirst for vengeance had turned into a maddening obsession, and though I had once admired his ruthlessness, it was now a blade pressing against my own throat."This isn't what we agreed to," I muttered, nursing a glass of Chianti as Viktor paced the length of my study. "You said we'd take down Nikolai by cutting off his supply chain and ruining his credibility—not by dragging Alessia into this."Viktor’s sneer twisted his lips. "You want to hurt a man like Volkov? You go for what he protects. What he values. Alessia is leverage."I slammed my glass down so hard it fractured. Red wine bled over the wood like a wound. "That’s my daughter, Viktor."He leaned forward, predatory. "Then maybe you should’ve thought twice before giving her away in marriage like she was cattle."His words struck deeper than any physical blow. I knew what I

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 68

    Dante Moretti The moment I stepped into the crimson-lit room of the Moretti estate, I knew Viktor was already there. The subtle scent of his custom Bulgarian tobacco, heavy in the air, clung to the velvet curtains and marble walls like a warning. He always arrived early, always with that smug patience that infuriated me more than any insult.He was sitting in my leather armchair, the one Alessia used to curl up in as a child while I read the newspaper. His legs were crossed, his posture too relaxed for a man who claimed to be hunting a monster like Nikolai Volkov."You're late," he said without looking at me.I walked to the bar without responding, pouring myself a glass of bourbon. He always tried to control the tone of our meetings. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction."You summoned me, Viktor. Don’t pretend this is your palace."He chuckled, finally turning his head to face me. "And yet, I sit on the throne."I downed the drink in one go. "You said you had something urgent

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 67

    The black Mercedes roared down the highway, cutting through the early morning silence. I leaned back into the leather seat, my fingers tapping absently against the armrest. Zayn was unusually quiet, which said a lot considering his usual sharp commentary filled every second of silence we shared. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. His brows were furrowed, jaw tight, eyes glued to the road ahead like he was trying to burn a hole in it."You good?" I finally asked.He didn’t respond immediately. That alone told me he wasn’t."Stassie," he muttered after a beat. "She looked like hell this morning. What the fuck happened to her?"I exhaled slowly and turned to face him. "I don’t know. Alessia didn’t say anything specific. Just that she came over in tears and spent the night."Zayn’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "She’s not the type to fall apart.""That’s why it’s concerning," I said. "Which brings me to my next question. What exactly are you doing with her, Zayn?"He t

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 66

    Alessia Volkov I didn’t sleep much. Between Stassie’s tear-stained confession and the image of Viktor Natov's cold eyes, my mind had been restless. When I finally slipped out of bed, the penthouse was silent, bathed in the soft grey light of early morning. I padded barefoot into the kitchen, tying my robe as I went, determined to do something useful—like cooking breakfast. A distraction, really. Something normal. Familiar.I cracked a few eggs into a bowl, whisking them quietly while glancing over my shoulder at the guest room door, still closed. She hadn’t moved all night.Poor Stassie. She’d curled up on the edge of the bed, knees to her chest, like she was trying to shrink herself into nothingness. The confident, radiant woman I knew had broken down in my arms like a child, and it hurt to see her like that.Zayn. The name rolled in my mind like a bitter pill.He wasn’t a bad guy. In fact, that was the problem—he was too good at pretending he wasn’t a bad guy. Charming, clever, mad

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 65

    Alessia Volkov The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the central air and the distant buzz of traffic from the city below. I had changed into an oversized hoodie after my shower, curling up on the couch with a blanket and a cup of chamomile tea that had long gone cold. The television played something in the background — a cooking show, I think — but I wasn’t really watching.I was lost in thought. Again.My mind kept circling back to that moment. The smoothie bar. The way Viktor had looked at me, like a man studying his next move in a very personal chess game. His words still clung to the edges of my thoughts like barbed wire: “If I wanted to hurt you, you wouldn't have made it home.”My stomach twisted again. Not from fear — not anymore. The fear had morphed into something else entirely. A sense of exposure. A crack in the illusion of safety Nikolai tried so hard to build around me.I hated how vulnerable I had felt in front of Viktor. But more than that, I hated how powe

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 64

    Alessia Volkov My hands were still trembling by the time I got to the entrance of the penthouse. I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold, the adrenaline, or the lingering fear slithering through my veins like poison. The encounter with Viktor Natov had lasted no more than ten minutes, but it had imprinted itself on my bones like a scar — fresh, raw, and impossible to ignore. I could still hear his voice echoing in my head. Still see the way his lips curled as he spoke my name, as if he had known it his entire life and had simply been waiting for the perfect moment to say it aloud. His calmness was the most terrifying part. There was no rage in him. No wildness. Just complete, calculated confidence. The kind of confidence that only comes from knowing exactly how much power you hold. I didn’t wait for the elevator to be called up by security. I stormed in, ignoring the wide-eyed glance of the guard at the desk. He didn’t try to stop me, probably because my face made it clear that I

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 63

    Alessia Volkov The rhythmic pounding of my feet against the treadmill had been the only thing keeping me sane for the past hour. No guards. No glowering Russian men with moral gray zones. No calculating glances across mahogany desks. Just me, the beat of my playlist, and sweat—glorious, cathartic sweat.It was my version of therapy.I stretched, inhaling deeply as I wrapped my hoodie around my waist and pulled the baseball cap lower over my eyes. I didn’t want attention. I just wanted a smoothie and a moment of peace. My limbs ached in that satisfying post-workout way, and I felt strong. Grounded.For the first time in days, I felt like me.And then the universe, in its usual twisted sense of humor, decided to take that away.I walked across the street to my favorite little smoothie bar. Small, locally owned, and blessedly unpretentious. The kind of place where the barista knew my order, smiled without being fake, and didn’t give a damn about mob wars or power plays.Strawberry-bana

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 62

    Nikolai Volkov There’s a rhythm to war.Not the chaos people imagine. Not screams or fire or smoke. No—real war is quiet. Cold. Clean. It begins with blueprints. It lives in maps and code words, hushed meetings in steel rooms, and men who understand that silence is more powerful than any scream.I was never impulsive. Not when it came to blood.So when Viktor decided to draw first blood, he didn’t realize what he’d set in motion.He didn’t just kill two of my men. He didn’t just steal weapons. He tried to fracture the image I’d spent years cultivating—of a man untouchable, a man above weakness. That was his first mistake.And now it was my turn.---I stood in the war room of my compound—bare walls, reinforced doors, six screens flickering with live feeds, satellite imagery, and encrypted communications. The scent of steel and adrenaline hung in the air. Zayn leaned against the table across from me, arms crossed, his eyes locked on the blueprint projected in front of us.Three red ma

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 61

    Nikolai Volkov The morning had begun with softness—a rarity in my life. Alessia’s scent lingered on my skin, on the sheets, in the air. My bed, usually cold and sterile, still held the warmth of her body, the ghost of her moans, the scratch of her nails across my back. For once, the world had been silent. Still. Peaceful.But peace never lasts long in my world.I stood by the window, shirtless, coffee in hand, watching the city breathe beneath the weight of sunlight. Alessia was still asleep behind me, her hair sprawled across my pillow like a silken halo. I could’ve stayed there. Pretended the war outside didn’t exist.My phone buzzed on the table.Zayn.I frowned. He wouldn’t call this early unless something was wrong.I answered. “What is it?”There was no greeting. Just a pause—too long—and then his voice, hard as concrete.“He hit us.”My fingers tightened around the ceramic mug. “Who?”“Viktor.”The name was enough to make my blood freeze. I turned away from the window, my jaw

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