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Shadows of the Past (chapt.8)
Last Updated:
2025-06-24 22:55:25
Latest chapter
Twisted vows The Trap (chapt.42)
Alessia’s POVI've figured out something about monsters: they don't always hide. Sometimes, they sit right at your dinner table, pour you a glass of wine, and kiss you goodnight. And when you finally catch a glimpse of their teeth, it’s already too late. But not this time. This time, I already knew what I was up against.I was ready to bring the heat.So, we were back in Athens, but just for 48 hours. Enough time to set a trap big enough for Isabella to bite.The plan was straightforward. I let a few hints slip through secure channels—an anonymous tip that the full list, plus Elena’s secret diary, would be up for grabs at a hush-hush auction in Lisbon. Of course, the location and time were fake. But the bait? That was real. Isabella wouldn't be able to resist. And neither would The Raven, if he was lurking.Everyone was watching us now.Nikolai took care of the leak while I crafted the message. And Matteo? He was still MIA. Every hour that passed without news from him felt like a fres
Twisted vows The Trade (chapt. 41)
Alessia’s POVMonaco sparkled like gold.But, you know, gold can be melted.And I was here to bring the heat.Rafael Ardovini wasn’t just some name on Elena’s list. He was a fixer, the type of guy who turned chaos into cash, secrets into trade, and kids into pawns. He’d vanished years back—people thought he was dead. But Elena had written two words next to his name in pencil:“Regrets everything.”That meant he was human, right?So, he could either be broken or maybe even redeemed.We rolled in as night fell.Monaco was buzzing—bright lights, high stakes, and way too many people hiding behind glass.But I wasn’t here for the games.Nikolai had tracked Rafael’s last known move to a jazz club in an old casino vault—Le Nocturne. You could only get in with an invite, and it was guarded by facial recognition and armed guys.We snuck in, you know, doing what we do best—lies, charm, and fake ID’s.Inside, the music was loud, the air thick with cigar smoke, and the crowd didn’t seem to care a
Twisted vows Blood in the Water (chapt.40)
Alessia’s POVThe war wasn’t just on the horizon.It was here.And if my mom wanted to act like she was in charge, then I was ready to unleash a storm that would wash away her power.Our counterattack kicked off at dawn.Matteo had spent the night figuring out her networks—those charity fronts, shady offshore accounts, and all that nonsense. They were scattered across Europe like breadcrumbs meant for the blind.She wasn’t just hanging on anymore.She was plotting a comeback.“She’s safeguarding her exits,” Nikolai observed. “Getting ready for a crash.”“No,” I replied. “She’s gearing up to bounce back.”We couldn’t let that fly.So we targeted her weak spot.The old money.First stop: Geneva.Matteo and I arrived with fake IDs.Our contact, a Ukrainian tech whiz named Kasia, had cracked into one of Isabella’s secure fund transfers and traced it to a vault under a heritage foundation.When we got to the vault, we were dressed in suits and fake smiles, pretending to be investors.Kasia
Twisted vows Strike Like Ghosts (chapt.39)
Alessia’s POVWe just stopped sleeping.All of us.Sleep felt like something only the innocent could afford. And trust me, we weren’t innocent anymore—not after finding that list. Not after seeing that photo of Luca feeding a stray cat, which showed they were still close, still watching us.The moment you realize you can’t hide anywhere… you stop hiding.You start hunting.Nikolai called it “The Ghost Protocol.”It was a last-ditch plan he’d come up with back in his spy days—meant to take down a whole network from the inside, piece by piece.“We can’t just run,” he said. “If we run, they’ll chase us. But if we just vanish—become shadows—they’ll freak out. And when they panic, they make mistakes.”Matteo was on board with that.I didn’t say anything.I was too busy looking at the list.Every name felt heavy. Every link was like a ticking time bomb.And I was ready to light the fuse.Step one: get Luca out of the picture.We didn’t tell him what was really going on—just that we were goi
Twisted vows The List of Names ( chapt.38)
Alessia’s POVThe key? It was old. Like, really old. Made of iron and pretty scratched up. Looked like something out of a forgotten chapel. But it wasn’t the magical kind you hear about in fairy tales. This was the kind of key you bled for.Elena’s note had one more thing under that warning:“Beneath the red church. The box is still there. If they haven’t found it.”We traced it all the way to a place outside Istanbul. A crumbling old Byzantine chapel, lost to time and tourists. The locals called it Kırmızı Işık Kilisesi—the Red Light Church.There was a legend about a priest who sold indulgences for gold and whispered secrets. Elena had circled this chapel in some old notebook Matteo found during a raid in Rome, but we never knew why. Until now.The three of us arrived in thick fog. Matteo stayed behind with Luca in the safehouse. It wasn’t safe to bring him anymore. Every day we spent in Turkey, we got closer to Konstantin’s blade. Nikolai and I went into the chapel alone.The roof
Twisted vows The Ghost in the Garden (chapt. 37)
Alessia’s POVIstanbul felt like a breath I was holding in.The city was a mix of everything—mosques next to nightclubs, ancient walls beside flashy neon. If Rome was a stage, Istanbul was more like a puzzle. So many doors, but only one would lead to the real story.We showed up with fake names and shaky nerves.No suits. No silk.Just shadows.And war.Matteo set up our base.We had a rented flat in Beyoğlu. It was high enough for a view of the Bosphorus and quiet enough to disappear in. We split into shifts: Nikolai kept an eye on Volkov, Matteo followed the money trail of Isabella. I just listened.To the streets. To the echoes.To the ghosts in my veins.One of them was Elena.The diary showed up two days later.It was hidden in a safety deposit box under her name at a private bank across the Bosphorus. Matteo had pulled a favor from a banker Elena once trusted—before she vanished.The journal was old and worn, leather-bound. When I opened it, the first page had that familiar rose
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