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CHAPTER 20

Penulis: Flowervil
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-04-01 20:30:15

The reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable.

I smoothed my hands over the deep red silk of my gown, the fabric clinging to my curves like a second skin. The slit along my leg was scandalously high, a calculated choice. If I was going to suffer through an entire evening in the company of power-hungry criminals, I might as well look like a queen while doing it.

Behind me, Nikolai watched in silence. I could feel his gaze, sharp and burning, raking over my body like a physical touch.

I hadn't heard him arrive and I noticed that he hadn't taken his eyes off me since he arrived.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might start to think you actually like what you see,” I said, tilting my head with a smirk.

His jaw tensed slightly, but his lips curled into something wicked. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

His words sent a strange thrill down my spine, one I refused to acknowledge. Instead, I turned back to my reflection, adjusting the delicate strap of m
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  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 75

    Alessia Volkov The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air like an invisible fog, wrapping itself around my senses and making my stomach churn. It had become a second skin, a pungent reminder that we were living in limbo. The dull hum of the fluorescent lights above flickered at irregular intervals, as if even the hospital itself was uncertain whether to fully illuminate this nightmare or leave it in shadows.I sat curled into the uncomfortable plastic chair beside Stassie's hospital bed, my legs tucked under me, a thin blanket draped over my shoulders. The book in my hands was open, its spine creaking quietly with every shift of my fingers. But the words printed on the page were meaningless. They didn’t register. They hadn’t for days.Reading was just something to do—something to distract me from the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, from the occasional mechanical hiss of the ventilator, from the crushing silence that lingered between each sound like a ghost. A cruel lulla

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 74

    Nikolai Volkov Victory tasted bitter.The kind of bitterness that sat in the back of your throat like old blood and rusted metal.Zayn and I had just walked out of a private meeting held in one of our most secure locations—an abandoned distillery we’d converted years ago into a war room. The stench of old alcohol still clung to the walls, but today, the only thing fermenting was the aftermath of our plans. One of Dante’s key shipments had been intercepted by the feds. Our sources had confirmed it—every crate of weapons marked for delivery had been seized. Meanwhile, Viktor’s black-market routes were collapsing like a house of cards in a wind tunnel. His men were scrambling. His confidence cracking.Everything we had meticulously orchestrated—every bribe, every planted leak, every midnight deal in the shadows—had struck its intended mark.We were winning.But I felt nothing.No surge of triumph. No rush of adrenaline.Because while our enemies bled, Stassie remained silent.And the wo

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   Chapter 73

    Dante Moretti The door slammed open with a deafening crack that ricocheted through the marble halls and into the hollow silence of Viktor’s office. My chest heaved, fury boiling beneath my skin like lava with no vent."You son of a bitch!" I roared, my footsteps pounding across the floor like war drums echoing through a battlefield.There he was. Seated calmly behind that monstrous black desk, more like a throne than furniture. A glass of red wine balanced between his fingers like we weren’t at war, like my empire hadn’t just collapsed beneath my feet. His poise, his detachment—it made me want to rip that smug expression off his face.He looked up slowly, his icy eyes locking onto mine. "Good morning to you too, Dante," he said with infuriating composure, raising his glass slightly in a mocking toast.That voice—too calm, too smooth—slid beneath my skin like a blade.I slammed both palms on his desk, leaning forward until our faces were inches apart. “Do you have any idea what just h

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 72

    Nikolai Volkov The rain drums steadily against the windows of the penthouse, casting a dull rhythm over the war room we’ve assembled in my private office. Zayn leans against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the intelligence reports one last time. He hasn’t spoken much since he saw Stassie at the hospital—but I can tell something in him snapped that day.We’re both done waiting.“Are you sure you want to go through with it tonight?” Zayn asks, his voice quiet but unwavering.I don’t look up from the laptop. I’m reviewing the latest satellite footage of Dante’s docks—specifically the containers arriving under forged IDs. “I’ve waited long enough. We both have. Dante made this personal. And Viktor…” My jaw clenches. “He made it about blood.”Zayn steps closer to the table, where our blueprint is laid out like a chessboard. “The new shipment lands at midnight. Everything’s ready. We leak the location and the manifest. FBI should be on them by sunrise.”“Good,” I murmur, tapping

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 71

    Alessia Volkov The sterile white walls of the hospital room have become a second home, a cocoon of pain and waiting. The pale light filtering through the blinds hasn’t changed in days, giving the illusion that time has stalled completely. It’s been over a week since Stassie’s accident, and every second since has stretched into eternity. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor is the only sound anchoring me to hope, a metronome counting heartbeats like prayers.I sit on the edge of the stiff vinyl chair beside her bed, legs drawn up, arms wrapped around a cup of coffee that’s long since gone cold. I haven’t had a hot drink in days. Haven’t slept properly either. My body aches in places I didn’t even know could hurt, and still, I don’t move. I can’t. As if stepping away might somehow pull her further from me.My gaze lingers on Stassie’s face—pale, delicate, bruised. She looks fragile, too fragile for someone who was always a wildfire. Bandages wrap around her forehead and temple, a sma

  • SHADOW OF VOW'S   CHAPTER 70

    Nikolai Volkov The problem with silence is that it gives your thoughts too much room to breathe.Alessia sat across from me at the marble kitchen island, swirling a spoon in her untouched coffee like it had personally offended her. Her sarcasm clung to her like armor—shiny, sharp, and meant to distract from the storm I knew was building behind her eyes. She hadn’t stopped needling me since breakfast began, her barbs thrown with all the casual precision of a woman who refused to let fear rule her.“So let me guess,” she drawled, resting her chin on one hand. “Your grand plan is to brood in dark corners until Viktor spontaneously combusts from guilt?”I didn’t bother looking up from my tablet. “He doesn’t feel guilt. That’s what makes him dangerous.”“Wow,” she said dryly. “Philosophical and vague. Are you trying to seduce me or put me to sleep?”My eyes flicked to her then. Tousled hair, hoodie falling off one shoulder, legs tucked under her on the stool like she hadn’t spent the nigh

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