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CHAPTER 48
Last Updated:
2025-05-01 00:45:40
Latest chapter
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 116
Alessia Volkov Three months had passed since I returned to the manoir.Three months since I stood at the threshold of the room that had once felt like a mausoleum and breathed life back into it.Three months of mending what was broken between Nikolai and me thread by thread, breath by breath. It hadn’t been easy. There were silences too long, wounds too deep, shadows we tried to ignore. But somehow, against all odds, we held on. And in those months, something beautiful had taken root. Not just trust, but comfort. Laughter. Quiet moments that needed no explanation. The kind of peace neither of us thought we’d ever earn.The manoir no longer felt haunted.It felt like home.Nikolai had finished what he’d promised erasing every remaining trace of Viktor’s influence from his empire. Ruthlessly. Surgically. Piece by piece, he tore down the scaffolding of corruption that had once held his name in place. He was focused, precise, unrelenting in his pursuit of a cleaner legacy. And I watched
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 115
Nikolai Volkov The days no longer dragged. They tore through me like bullets, relentless and precise, punching holes through whatever semblance of control I still had. There were no gentle mornings. No slow stretches of time to collect myself. Only the blur of responsibilities, the noise of an empire that didn’t care if its king was breaking beneath the weight of an empty bed. If I slowed down, I’d feel it again. The void. The screaming silence of a house that used to echo with her laugh, her footsteps, her defiance. The way she used to slam doors and then kiss me like it was her favorite form of punctuation. The warmth of her body tucked into mine at night. The way she whispered my name in the dark, as if she wasn’t quite ready to believe she’d found someone to say it to. Alessia. My wife. My fury. My fire. My undoing. She still hadn’t called. No texts. No messages. No divorce papers. But no return either. And somehow, the not knowing was worse than anything else. Wo
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 114
Alessia Volkov One month had passed.Thirty long, excruciating days since I walked out of the manoir. Since I left behind a marriage built on passion, silence, and too many half-truths. A month since I looked into Nikolai’s eyes and told him I needed time. Space. Distance.A month without him.Without his presence looming in a room like a shadow. Without the feel of his hands on my skin, his voice brushing the edges of my anger and softening it. Without the chaos that only he could ignite in my veins and calm with a look.I hadn’t asked for a divorce. Not yet.I hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Hadn’t even looked at the envelope of letters he’d sent. Zayn had delivered them quietly, discreetly, with a look that said more than words ever could. He understood something had fractured.I kept the notes, though.Untouched, buried in the top drawer of my nightstand like they were weapons I wasn’t ready to wield. I wasn’t strong enough to read them yet. Because I knew Nikolai. He wouldn’t writ
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 113
Nikolai Volkov The days had blurred into each other like ink spreading across wet parchment messy, uncontrollable, permanent.Sunlight bled in through the tall windows every morning like a cruel joke, casting warm gold over cold marble floors she no longer walked on. The manoir, once a fortress of discipline and steel control, now felt too loud with emptiness. Every wall echoed with silence, a kind that rang louder than any scream. I used to find comfort in the solitude, in the stillness. Now, it mocked me.Every room screamed her name.Every hallway echoed with memories.Her laughter.Her footsteps.Her scent, still clinging to the air like a ghost refusing to leave.Since Alessia left, I hadn’t been the same. I wasn’t sure I ever would be.I haunted the corridors like a man condemned, dragging my feet like I could still feel the weight of her absence trying to suffocate me. I ate only when the gnawing in my stomach outmatched the ache in my chest. I slept only when my body collapse
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 112
Alessia Volkov The morning after Francesco De Luca’s visit, I sat in my father’s office no, my office now letting the silence wrap around me like a second skin. The chair in front of the desk remained empty, a quiet monument to the man who had once ruled from it like a king. The air still held the scent of him: wood smoke, leather, aged whiskey, and the cold steel of iron discipline. I hated how much of him still lingered. How much of me still bowed, even now, to his ghost. Sleep had evaded me, refusing to settle in the corners of my mind. I had spent most of the night pacing these halls, weighing the choice in front of me like a blade across my throat. There was no option that didn’t draw blood only a question of whose it would be. I finally found Luca in the conservatory. Morning light streamed in through the high windows, casting dappled patterns on the cracked stone floor. The garden just beyond the glass had gone wild vines tangled over railings, weeds creeping through gravel
SHADOW OF VOW'S CHAPTER 111
Alessia Volkov The ancestral manor hadn’t changed. Not in structure, not in scent. It stood there, imposing and cold, just as it always had with its towering stone façade, iron-framed windows, and arched wooden doors that still groaned in protest every time they opened. The same quiet creaks in the staircase whispered from the past. The same cold marble floors stretched out beneath me like a frozen river of memories. The same towering portrait of our mother hung above the grand staircase her solemn eyes following my every move, just as they had when I was a child. Eyes that once comforted me now seemed to judge. Or mourn. But something had changed. Not the house itself the bones of it were as stubborn and unyielding as ever but the air. The atmosphere. It was hollow now. Quiet in a way that didn’t feel peaceful, but empty. As if the walls themselves were grieving. Or perhaps bracing for what came next. I stood in the entryway, just beyond the threshold, wrapped in a coat too heavy
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