All Chapters of Retribution : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Vladislav MorozThe night stretched endlessly as I gazed out of the tinted glass, watching the city blur into a streak of white light and neon signs as the car sped through. The engine hummed softly underneath the car seat, vibrating through my thigh.Valencia sat beside me her head leaning against the window. She’d been quiet since we left the ball, her sharp tongue and fiery composure subdued into something softer, quieter. She had only complained that she was hungry as we made way to the car after bidding Christian goodbye. After that, she barely said anything, probably too exhausted to speak.Caspian’s speech, Christian’s unexpected arrival, Bartholomew's interest and the whispers that followed—everything had unfolded like a well-rehearsed play. There was this eerie chill in the air and I just couldn't shake the fact that something was horribly wrong. But there was no need disclosing it to Valencia right now. She had done enough today, she didn't need to worry about all of that.

Valencia NightingaleMy bare feet shuffled through the dim corridor as I rubbed my eyes drowsily, yawning with every step. It was just a little past four in the morning, and I found myself heading to the kitchen.In my enthusiasm last night, tearing through the food like a wild animal and what followed after—Vladislav tossing me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes which ended with him being yelled at, I must have neglected to drink water or at least refill the pitcher next to my bed only to wake up halfway, struggling for air with a throat that felt like a sponge abandoned under the summer sun.The glow from the fridge brightened the dark kitchen as I opened it and took a glass from the cupboard above, along with a bottle of water. The cold water was refreshing as it eased my dry throat in a matter of seconds. I didn't even realise when I had gobbled the whole thing up. I exhaled, chest caving in with the force of it as I cleaned my lips using the back of my hand, hurling the bo

Vladislav MorozThe anger in me burned hotter than the fire that had razed my mansion to nothing but debris.My hands were slick with blood as I slowly finished up with what was left of wrapping the leg of one of my men—a huge shard of glass had gone through his shin as he tried to save a few of the maids from the burning flames. The medical team was small in number compared to the amount of people I had in my mansion, so I had to step in to help as little as I could.The pungent smell of smoke stuck to my skin, clawing at my lungs with every shallow breath. Behind me, the courtyard was a mess of singed grasses and flowers crushed by the weight of people as they stomped through, some groaning in pain, nursing their wounds, while others passed out from inhalation of smoke.Despite being caught up in the middle of it all, my mind kept flickering back to one single thought.Valencia.That wild, infuriating woman.Every part of me wanted to charge in after her—drag her out by the hair if

Valencia Nightingale"You’ve got to be kidding right now," I exclaimed, feeling blood dribble down the side of my lips. Surely, my eyes were deceiving me, and all this had to be some kind of sick joke. Any second now, I’d wake up and start laughing about how ridiculous my dreams had become."Valencia," Bartholomew Heathcliff breathed out, voice barely a whisper. He looked like he didn't know what to do with his hands anymore, they twitched beside him like he was itching to touch something or someone, and that had better not be me.His eyes were impossibly soft as he stared down at me before hardening in a swift second as they took in the scene before him. Gone was the pristine archbishop clad in a ceremonial suit. Tonight, he had finally stripped off that mask of faith he wore, dressed in a simple black shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled to the elbows. The men who followed him filled the doorway behind him, their faces grim, their silence heavy as they stared at me.The silence was sh

Valencia Nightingale.My entire body vibrated with barely restrained fury. How dare he... How dare he try to kiss me... To think about me in such a revolting manner.Vladislav's words echoed relentlessly in my head as I stared at him, fingers curled into a tight fist—I couldn't physically act lest I cause a backlash and end up killing myself with my own hand.Keep calm,Valencia.Just keep calm.He stepped closer, arms stretched out in front of him like he wanted to touch me. "I shouldn't have done that, I know. But I can't help it, Valencia. I love you"Fuck it.I swung forward with all the strength I had left, wrapping my hands around his throat, tight enough for me to feel the bone underneath the skin. His eyes widened in shock, and for a brief, satisfying second, I saw fear flicker across that holy face.“You think you can keep me here?” I snarled, my voice raw, trembling with fury. “You think you can touch—"The door burst open and within seconds, he was pulled away from my grip