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Chapter One Hundred and Three : The Countess's Gambit
Last Updated:
2025-12-28 17:10:30
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The king of Ashes Chapter One Hundred and Ten : The Wolf's Table
(Isabella’s POV) The car ride to the Falcone estate was a silent, tense journey. I was no longer Isabella Rossi, the art restorer who was engaged to the most powerful man in the city. I was Countess Alessa Petrova, a reclusive, wealthy, and slightly arrogant European noblewoman with a passion for rare art. I repeated the details of my new life in my mind, a quiet, steadying rhythm. I was born in Florence, educated in Switzerland, and my family’s money was old, vast, and discreet. Alessa was confident, poised, and unimpressed by the flashy displays of new money. She was everything these people were not. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, but my hands, resting in the lap of my elegant ivory dress, were perfectly still. I felt the cool, heavy weight of Elara’s necklace against my skin, a silent, powerful reminder of the man who was watching over me, and the love that was my true armor. The Falcone estate was a modern palace of glass and steel, perched on the edge of the
The king of Ashes Chapter One Hundred and Nine : A Queen's Revelation
(Alessandro’s POV) I held her in the silent, secure cocoon of the armored car, my entire world held safely in my arms. I had listened to every word of her lunch with Sofia Falcone, every polite lie, every veiled threat. I had felt my own heart hammering in my chest with a terrifying, helpless fury. Listening to the woman I loved walk willingly into a den of lions was the purest form of torture I had ever known. But she had not just survived. She had won. Her performance had been a masterpiece of quiet, lethal grace. She had played the part of the Countess so perfectly, luring Sofia in with a shared passion for art, making her feel like an equal, a confidante. And then, with the casual mention of a lost Botticelli, she had set the hook. She had confirmed, with a single, brilliant move, that the Falcones were not just rivals of Bianchi, but deep, long-term partners in his darkest secrets. She had found the crack in their perfect, polished world. When she walked out of that resta
The king of Ashes Chapter One Hundred and Eight : The Lioness's Game
(Isabella’s POV) The restaurant where I was to meet Sofia Falcone was the kind of place that whispered its wealth. It was not loud or flashy, but a quiet, elegant space in the heart of the city, with soft lighting, fresh flowers on every table, and a hushed, reverent atmosphere. It was a place for secrets, a perfect hunting ground for a lioness like Sofia. I walked in alone, just as we had planned. I was Countess Alessa Petrova again, dressed in a simple but incredibly expensive cream-colored dress, my hair pulled back in an elegant twist. My only jewelry was the emerald necklace Alessandro had given me, a beautiful, powerful symbol of his love, and the small, delicate brooch on my dress that held a high-resolution camera. I felt like a soldier in a ballgown, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. “Countess Petrova,” the maître d' said, his voice a low, respectful purr. “Ms. Falcone is waiting for you in her private dining room.” I followed him through the restaurant, my s
The king of Ashes Chapter One Hundred and Seven : Two Fronts
(Isabella’s POV) The moment I ended the call with Sofia, the war room, which had been holding its breath, let out a collective, quiet sigh of relief. I looked at the faces of Alessandro’s men, at Lucian and the others, and I saw a new look in their eyes. The last traces of doubt were gone, replaced by a grudging, hard-won respect. I was not just their king’s weakness. I was his queen. Alessandro was the first to move. He came to me, his long strides closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. He didn't speak. He just took my face in his hands, his golden eyes searching mine, full of a fierce, raw pride and a love so profound it felt like a physical force. He leaned down and kissed me, a deep, possessive kiss that was a silent, public declaration in front of all his men. It was a kiss that said, You are mine. You are magnificent. “You did it, mia regina,” he whispered against my lips, his voice thick with an emotion he rarely showed. “You walked into her trap and made it yo
The king of Ashes Chapter One Hundred and Six: The King's Fear, The Queen's Resolve
(Isabella’s POV) I walked out of that cold, modern palace with my head held high, but the moment the armored door of the car closed, sealing me in with Alessandro, the adrenaline began to fade. A deep, bone-deep exhaustion washed over me. I had walked into the wolf’s den, faced him down, and won. But the victory felt fragile, a single, beautiful candle flickering in a gathering storm. Alessandro didn’t say a word. He just pulled me into his arms, his embrace a solid, safe harbor. He held me so tightly I could barely breathe, his mouth finding mine in a desperate, passionate kiss that was a mix of overwhelming relief, fierce pride, and a love so powerful it felt like the only real thing in the world. “You were magnificent,” he whispered against my lips, his voice thick with an emotion he rarely showed. “My queen. My warrior. You destroyed him.” “We destroyed him,” I corrected, my hand coming up to cup his handsome, tense face. “Together.” We returned to the Citadel, to the
The king of Ashes Chapter One Hundred and Five : The Lioness's Den
(Isabella’s POV) The morning of the lunch arrived with a cold, electric tension that was a stark contrast to the beautiful, sunny day outside. This was not a social call. It was a battle, and I was the lone soldier walking behind enemy lines. I stood before the mirror in our bedroom, looking at my reflection, and took a deep, steadying breath. I was nervous, my heart a fluttery, anxious thing in my chest. But underneath the nerves, a cold, hard resolve was beginning to form. They wanted to see the Rossi girl, the king’s weakness. I would show them his queen instead. Alessandro came up behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders. He was already dressed in a dark, impeccably tailored suit that made him look like a beautiful, dangerous shadow. He looked at my reflection in the mirror, his golden eyes searching mine. I could see the storm of his own fear there, the primal, protective instinct that was at war with his trust in me. “They will try to make you feel small today
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