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Chapter 55: The Dragnet
Última atualização:
2026-03-13 00:37:33
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The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen Chapter 64: The Accounting
The hospital corridor is quiet.Ciro is asleep again, the drugs pulling him back under. Spadino is sitting by the bed, his head resting on the mattress, holding Ciro’s hand like he’s afraid his brother will float away if he lets go.I step out of the room.My legs are stiff. My back aches. The blood on my clothes has dried into a stiff, brown crust that crackles when I move.I need coffee. I need air.I walk down the hallway. The fluorescent lights hum overhead. Bzzzz.I turn the corner toward the elevators.A shadow detaches itself from the wall.Aureliano.He has been waiting.He blocks my path. He is still wearing the ruined suit, his shirt stained with Ciro’s blood. He looks exhausted, but his eyes are alert. Cold. Calculating.He isn't the grieving brother anymore. He is the Don who just realized his house has been robbed."We need to talk," he says.It isn't a request. It is a summons.He opens the door to a small, private waiting room. He gestures for me to enter.I don't hesit
The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen Chapter 63: The Resurrection
The air in the room changes.It isn't just the beep of the monitor speeding up. It’s the feeling of a presence returning. A vacuum being filled.Ciro Vitale is back.His eyes are open. Black. Dilated. They are swimming in a haze of morphine and trauma, but underneath the fog, the predator is waking up.He doesn't look at the ceiling. He doesn't look at the IVs taped to his arm.He looks at me.His gaze locks onto my face like a targeting system. It is heavy. Physical. It pins me to the chair more effectively than any restraint."Graziella," he croaks.The sound is terrible. It is a rusty hinge scraping against bone. It is the sound of a throat that has been torn open by a scream that never came out."I’m here," I whisper.I lean forward. I grip his hand tighter. His skin is hot, burning with the fever of survival.The door opens behind me.Aureliano and Spadino rush in. They must have been watching through the glass, or maybe they just sensed the shift in the universe."Ciro!" Spadino
The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen Chapter 62: The Vigil
The rhythm of the room is a metronome counting down the seconds of a life.Beep... beep... beep.It is the only sound in the world.I am sitting in a chair that has become an extension of my spine. I haven't moved in forty-eight hours. My muscles have atrophied, locking into a permanent hunch over the bed.Ciro lies in the center of the tangle of wires and tubes.He looks wrong.Ciro Vitale is a force of nature. He is muscle and violence and kinetic energy. He is the man who breaks bones and cleans guns. He is the man who slammed me against a washing machine and demanded I feel something.Now, he is pale. His skin, usually tanned and vibrant, is grey. His chest, wrapped in thick white bandages, rises and falls with the mechanical assistance of a ventilator. Hiss. Click. Hiss.He looks small.I hate it. I hate seeing the monster reduced to this fragile, broken thing.I look down at my hands.The blood is gone. I scrubbed it off in the tiny bathroom attached to the suite. I used the har
The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen Chapter 61: The Waiting Room
The hospital smells of bleach and old pain.It is a specific, chemical scent that burns the inside of my nose, trying to mask the underlying odor of sickness and fear. But it can't mask the smell on me.I smell like copper. I smell like iron. I smell like Ciro.I am sitting on a plastic chair in the private waiting area of the Santa Lucia Hospital. It is a sterile box with white walls and flickering fluorescent lights that hum with a headache-inducing frequency. Bzzzzz.My hands are in my lap. They are stained red. The blood has dried, turning brown and flaky in the creases of my knuckles. It is under my fingernails. It has soaked into the knees of my jeans where I knelt on the crypt floor.I stare at my hands.That’s Ciro, I think. That’s his life on my skin.I don't wash it off. I can't. It feels like the only thing keeping him alive. As long as his blood is on me, he isn't gone.The double doors at the end of the corridor burst open.Bang.Two men storm in.Aureliano leads. He is s
The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen Chapter 60: The Human Shield
The gunshot is deafening.BANG.It echoes off the stone walls of the crypt, a sound so loud it erases everything else. The drip of water. My own heartbeat. The scream building in my throat.I flinch. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the impact. Waiting for the burn of the bullet tearing through my skull.But the pain doesn't come.Instead, something warm and wet splashes across my face.And then, a heavy weight slams into me.I open my eyes.The assassin is staggering backward. His gun is still raised, smoke curling from the barrel. But he isn't looking at me. He is looking at the man who just stepped out of the shadows.Ciro.The Enforcer stands between us. He didn't shoot. He didn't draw a weapon.He jumped.He threw himself into the path of the bullet meant for me.He stands there for a second, swaying slightly. He looks like a statue carved from granite, immovable and eternal.Then, a red flower blooms on his chest. Right over his heart.It spreads fast, soaking through his bla
The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen Chapter 59: Sanctuary Breached
The silence of the crypt breaks.Not with a whisper. Not with a footstep.With a crash.The heavy wooden doors at the top of the stairs fly open, hitting the stone walls with a violence that shakes dust from the ceiling.Boom.The sound echoes in the small, enclosed space like a bomb going off. My heart slams against my ribs, a frantic bird trying to break free of its cage.Thump-thump. Thump-thump.I scramble backward. My boots scrabble on the slick stone floor. My back hits the side of the sarcophagus. The cold marble bites into my spine through my thin t-shirt.I am trapped.A figure descends the stairs.He moves with a terrifying, lethal efficiency. He doesn't stumble in the dark. He doesn't hesitate.He is dressed in black tactical gear—pants, vest, boots. Silent. Professional. A face covered by a black ski mask, leaving only his eyes visible.Cold, dead eyes.This isn't a brother looking for a lost love. This isn't Spadino coming to beg. This isn't Ciro coming to claim.This is
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