Semua Bab SHADOW OF VOW'S: Bab 71 - Bab 76

Alessia Volkov The sterile white walls of the hospital room have become a second home, a cocoon of pain and waiting. The pale light filtering through the blinds hasn’t changed in days, giving the illusion that time has stalled completely. It’s been over a week since Stassie’s accident, and every second since has stretched into eternity. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor is the only sound anchoring me to hope, a metronome counting heartbeats like prayers.I sit on the edge of the stiff vinyl chair beside her bed, legs drawn up, arms wrapped around a cup of coffee that’s long since gone cold. I haven’t had a hot drink in days. Haven’t slept properly either. My body aches in places I didn’t even know could hurt, and still, I don’t move. I can’t. As if stepping away might somehow pull her further from me.My gaze lingers on Stassie’s face—pale, delicate, bruised. She looks fragile, too fragile for someone who was always a wildfire. Bandages wrap around her forehead and temple, a sma

Dante Moretti The door slammed open with a deafening crack that ricocheted through the marble halls and into the hollow silence of Viktor’s office. My chest heaved, fury boiling beneath my skin like lava with no vent."You son of a bitch!" I roared, my footsteps pounding across the floor like war drums echoing through a battlefield.There he was. Seated calmly behind that monstrous black desk, more like a throne than furniture. A glass of red wine balanced between his fingers like we weren’t at war, like my empire hadn’t just collapsed beneath my feet. His poise, his detachment—it made me want to rip that smug expression off his face.He looked up slowly, his icy eyes locking onto mine. "Good morning to you too, Dante," he said with infuriating composure, raising his glass slightly in a mocking toast.That voice—too calm, too smooth—slid beneath my skin like a blade.I slammed both palms on his desk, leaning forward until our faces were inches apart. “Do you have any idea what just h

Alessia Volkov The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air like an invisible fog, wrapping itself around my senses and making my stomach churn. It had become a second skin, a pungent reminder that we were living in limbo. The dull hum of the fluorescent lights above flickered at irregular intervals, as if even the hospital itself was uncertain whether to fully illuminate this nightmare or leave it in shadows.I sat curled into the uncomfortable plastic chair beside Stassie's hospital bed, my legs tucked under me, a thin blanket draped over my shoulders. The book in my hands was open, its spine creaking quietly with every shift of my fingers. But the words printed on the page were meaningless. They didn’t register. They hadn’t for days.Reading was just something to do—something to distract me from the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, from the occasional mechanical hiss of the ventilator, from the crushing silence that lingered between each sound like a ghost. A cruel lulla