Lahat ng Kabanata ng Fated In Darkness: Kabanata 181 - Kabanata 190

DimitriI wasn’t a fool.I knew exactly what this was—a setup. And it reeked of Dragomir’s design. The moment I learned that the head of the Abbot family had arrived in town to spread slander bearing my name, I knew it wasn’t coincidence. This wasn’t just political manoeuvring. It was warfare, dressed in subtlety, cloaked in shadows.And it had worked.I stood in Adrian’s office feeling less like a leader and more like a fool than I had when I brought Alison in. My presence at the club tonight had saved me. Had I not been there, had my alibi not been visible and undeniable, Adrian might’ve believed I had moved against him.And that would’ve been the last mistake I ever made.One trespass too many, and I would’ve vanished. No trial. No warning. No mercy.I knew Adrian well enough to understand this truth—he did not believe in accidents. He did not forgive perceived betrayal. If the balance tipped even slightly, he would level the entire board. And to him, the three of us—Martina, Lancly

DimitriJust then, Phelix walked in.He was one of ours—technically. A Strigoi who managed Darin’s club during the night hours. It was part of the unspoken agreement between the clans: a show of unity, a pretended transparency. We rotated responsibilities in shared territory to give the illusion of cooperation. But really, who were we fooling?I never let Adrian’s men—or Cain’s—too deep into my affairs. I was certain they returned the favor.This “peace” we’d built? It was patchwork. Cosmetic. A treaty full of cracks and faded ink. And if we didn’t start rewriting it, people like Dragomir—and Martina—would keep slipping through the gaps, sowing chaos beneath our noses.“Lord Dimitri,” Phelix said politely.I gave him a thin smile.I didn’t trust him—he wasn’t dangerous, just... messy. Undisciplined. The kind of Strigoi too impulsive to be used as a weapon by anyone important. Still, he had his uses, and so I tolerated him.Without a word, Lancly and I left Adrian’s office and returned

DimitriI studied Martina, watching every twitch in her muscles, every flick of her eyes.She’s still acting.I didn’t believe her for a second. Not entirely. If she was under compulsion, fine. But something told me this wasn’t just mind control—this was ambition. She might not be leading Dragomir’s schemes, but she wasn’t innocent.And she damn well had something to gain.“If you know anything,” I said coldly, “you better start talking. Because this little flirtation with Dragomir—whether intentional or not—is going to cost all of us. He’s framing me, and if Adrian believes it... he won’t just come for me. You know how this works. Neither you nor Lancly would be spared.”Martina’s face twisted in fear and disbelief. “I swear, I don’t know anything. I only met him once.”I let out a quiet laugh, slow and deliberate. “Not according to Lukeman.”She froze. Her eyes widened slightly. There. A flicker. She didn’t know if I was bluffing—and that’s exactly what I wanted.“Then he’s lying!” s

Adrian“About that,” I said, my voice quieter than before. My father was instantly attentive.“Dimitri came to the club tonight.”One of his brows arched with mild surprise.“You two getting along now?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.I shook my head. “Hardly. But for once, we share a goal, and an enemy.”My father’s smirk faded into something colder. He knew Dimitri well. Had raised him in the early centuries. “He’s a strategist. Always knew how to play the board three moves ahead.”“Exactly,” I said, stepping behind the bar to pour myself a glass of whiskey. Blood wouldn’t cut it for this conversation. I needed something stronger.Then I said it. The words that had been burning my throat since I left the club.“Natalie’s father is alive.”The air changed. My father frowned, his expression unreadable, but the glass in his hand stilled.“Dragomir has him,” I added.The glass hit the counter with a dull thud. My father turned fully to face me, eyes sharp, cutting.He

NatalieI woke in Adrian’s bed, alone.The room was quiet, too quiet. The sheets still held his scent—dark cedar, cold steel, and something ancient. But he was gone. A strange ache settled in my chest. I touched the space where his body should’ve been, half-hoping it would still be warm.It wasn’t.Memories came back in fragments. Lancly’s arms lifting me up… the way my head lolled against his chest, how distant everything felt. I must’ve blacked out before we made it back. Now all I had was this eerie silence.I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. The mirror didn’t lie. I looked like a ghost. Pale. Eyes ringed in shadow. There was sleep behind them, but no rest.I rinsed my mouth, staring at my reflection. The water was cold, but not enough to wake me from the nightmare that was now my life. The truth clung to me like smoke—impossible to shake off.The Strigoi at the club… were they there for me?Dimitri hadn’t said a word about it, but his silence was its own kind of wa