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Chapter 53
Last Updated:
2025-12-29 09:54:20
Latest chapter
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 54
The chain was unlocked at 06:00.I hadn’t slept. I had spent the night listening to the wind howl against the windows, lying on the rug like a discarded coat, my eyes fixed on the heavy shape of Killian in the bed above me.He slept like the dead. Still. Silent. But even in sleep, he radiated a threat.When he woke, he didn’t stretch. He didn’t yawn. He simply opened his eyes, checked the time, and sat up. The transition from sleep to predator was instantaneous.He looked down at me.“Up,” he said.His voice was rough with sleep, a low rasp that vibrated in the floorboards against my ear.I sat up. My bones creaked. The cold from the floor had settled deep into my joints, making me feel eighty years old instead of nineteen.He tossed the key onto the rug.“Unlock yourself.”I picked up the small silver key. My burned hand was stiff under the gauze, the skin pulling tight and hot. I fumbled with the lock using my left hand.Click.The leather cuff fell open.I stood up, swaying slightl
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 53
The chain was a cold snake wrapped around my ankle. I sat on the rug at the foot of Killian’s bed, my knees pulled to my chest, staring at the heavy mahogany door. It had been hours since he left me here. Hours of silence. Hours to think. In the silence, the ghosts came back. But they weren’t the ghosts of my mother or the pain in my hand. They were the echoes of my father’s voice, filtered through Killian’s accusations. He is frantic, Killian had said. He is begging. I rested my chin on my knees, a bitter, dry laugh echoing in my mind. Killian Alatorre thought he was a genius. He thought he had broken the code. He thought he was torturing a beloved daughter to destroy a loving father. He was a fool. He was a lethal, terrifying, powerful fool. My father wasn’t screaming because he loved me. He was screaming because I was his insurance policy. I was the contract that kept the other families from eating him alive. If I was gone, the Moretti alliance crumbled. If the alliance cr
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 52
The laundry press had left a ghost on my skin. My hand the “good” one was now a map of bruising. The iron plate hadn’t broken the bones, but it had crushed the capillaries, leaving a deep, rectangular purple mark across the back of my hand and knuckles. It throbbed in harmony with my right hand, the burned one. I was a symphony of pain, conducted by the Alatorre family. I was in the library again. Killian had ordered me back to the scene of my first collapse. If you fall again, he had warned, I will chain you to the grate. I wasn’t scrubbing the fireplace this time. I was polishing the books. It was a meaningless, Sisyphean task. There were thousands of books, leather-bound and ancient, lining the walls from floor to ceiling. I had to climb the rolling ladder, pull each one out, wipe the dust that wasn’t there, and replace it. With two ruined hands. I stood on the
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 51
The fever broke in the gray hours of the morning. I woke up soaked in cold sweat, my clothes clinging to my skin like a second, suffocating layer. The heat that had ravaged my body for two days was gone, leaving behind a hollow, trembling weakness that felt less like healing and more like being hollowed out with a spoon. I tried to roll over. Clink. The chain pulled taut. I froze, the memory of the night rushing back. The clinic. The scalpel. The binding. I looked up. My left hand was still cuffed to the mahogany headboard. My right leg was still shackled to the bedpost. I was spread-eagled across the mattress, a specimen pinned for dissection. My burned hand… the one Killian had flayed open throbbed with a dull, heavy pulse. It was wrapped in clean white gauze, stark against the dark sheets. I lay there, staring at the ceiling. Safe, I had mouthed.
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 50
The bruise on my cheekbone had bloomed into a violent, purple flower.I saw it in the reflection of the silver platter I was polishing. My face was swollen, the skin tight and shiny, one eye half-shut by the puffiness. I looked like a prizefighter who had lost the match in the first round.I looked like a monster.It was Day Four of captivity. Or maybe Day Five. The timeline was dissolving into a feverish gray soup.I sat at the long mahogany table in the main dining hall. The room was cold, vast, and silent, save for the rhythmic squeak-squeak of my rag against the metal.Aunt Carmina had set the task: Clean the family silver.There were hundreds of pieces. Forks, knives, spoons, ladles, platters. They were spread out before me like a surgical arsenal.My burned hand was useless. The bandage was gray with dirt and stiff with dried pus. The pain had changed. It wasn’t a sharp sting anymore; it was a deep, throbbing heat
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 49
The chain rattled.It was the first sound of the morning.I woke up on the rug at the foot of Killian’s bed. My body was curled into a tight, defensive knot, my spine pressed against the heavy mahogany post where my ankle was tethered.My neck was stiff. My hip, resting on the hard floor through the thin rug, ached with a dull, bruising throb.I opened my eyes.The room was gray. Dawn.Above me, the bed shifted.Killian sat up.I didn’t move. I didn’t scramble away. I just watched his bare feet hit the floor inches from my face.He stood up, stretching. The muscles in his back rippled under his skin. He didn’t look down at me. He walked to the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click.I lay there, staring at the shackle on my ankle. The leather had chafed the skin raw during the night. A thin line of dried blood crusted the edge.I didn’t care.Pain was just noise now. Bac
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