All Chapters of Velvet Chains: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The guns' noise had long since faded, leaving behind only the crackling of the blaze in the impromptu hideout Valerio's men had occupied. Darkness descended on the forest hideout, thick with silence and secrets. Valerio was at the window, his gaze trained on the trees as if trying to break through the shroud of treachery that had surrounded his organization.Sera slumped on the arm of the leather couch, covered in one of Valerio's warm jackets, dripping wet hair curving around her face in tender strands. Her mind spun from the chaos of everything they had just been through. The fight at the compound. The deception that ran deeper than they had expected. The shadow of what still remained out there, hanging in wait."I don't know whom to trust anymore," Valerio burst out, his voice low, husky. "Every time I think I've located the leak, someone else bleeds.""You trust me," Sera said softly.His head rotated toward her slowly, eyes obscured in the dark. "You're the only one I trust. That

The shoot-out's aftermath hung over the estate, such as the thick smoke of a fire smothered for too long. Morning light filtered through broken windows, reflected off blood-slicked floors and bullet holes. There was quiet where chaos had erupted mere hours before.Sera stood in the hallway outside the old library, arms wrapped around herself, a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her skin still trembled from adrenaline, her mind a whirlwind of images—Valerio with blood on his knuckles, the mole’s lifeless eyes, the shouts, the gunfire.But more than anything, she remembered Valerio’s arms around her afterward, his voice rough as he murmured, “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”She hadn't given up since.In the library, Valerio lay on the long, blackened table, his gaze down on a crumpled map and list of names. His shoulders tensed, jaw clenched. What was to have been a clever ambush had been successful—but at a cost. One of his men had been injured, and the mole they'd been following had

The chapel just beyond Dario's grounds stood like a monument to having been forgotten by time—ivy covering the stone walls, broken stained glass windows, their former brightly colored hues now faded with age. It was lovely, haunting. A cemetery of secrets.Sera stood beside Valerio, flashlight in hand. The marble floors echoed beneath their steps as they walked toward the altar. The air inside was cold, still, too quiet—as if the walls themselves were holding their breath."You’re sure the evidence is here?" she asked.Valerio nodded. "Dario said under the altar. There's a hiding place beneath the ancient offering table. My mother used to say her morning prayers here. If she knew what was rotting beneath her feet."He did not go on. Instead, he knelt and pressed a row of intricately carved angel wings on the altar. There was a quiet click. The marble swung back with a creak, and a thin stairway descending into darkness was revealed.Sera looked down. "Of course there's a creepy crypt.

The cold of the Verona air followed them as they made their way to the chapel that Dario had told them about. It was at the far end of the estate, flanked by cypress trees that groaned in the wind, their shadows extending long and foreboding in the moonlight. The building was old, its stones weathered with centuries of secrets and sin.Valerio held Sera's hand tightly, the other wrapped around the butt of his gun. Even with Dario guiding them, trust did not come easily."How far down does it go?" Valerio ordered, staring at the chapel's weathered interior."Under the altar," Dario whispered, his eyes darting up to the worn crucifix that hung above. "There's a trapdoor, hidden by the marble. My father and I would use it when we had to. store things."Sera swallowed, her nerves tightening. The air was colder in here, unnaturally so. She felt it in her bones, in the way her skin prickled."You’re sure no one else knows about this?" she asked.Dario hesitated. "Only Lucrezia. But she beli

The chapel was wrapped in cold quiet. Dust clung to the air like secrets too heavy for speech. Valerio crept slowly down the aisle, every step echoing under the vaulted ceiling. Sera followed hard behind, her eyes scanning the candlelit walls, the worn frescoes of saints and martyrs who long ago had stopped listening.They reached the altar. Dario had been very clear. At the rear of the pulpit, under the seventh tile.Valerio knelt and pushed it open.Under the stone was a vacant space, and in it, an old metal box.He yanked it loose, his own breath ragging in the weight of it—not the physical weight, exactly, but the history that filled it. He set it on the floor and sprung the catch. The hinges shrieked loudly as the top groaned open.Inside were files, photos, letters written in hand—letters imprinted with blood and betrayal, stamped indelibly.Sera knelt by him, reaching out to grab a letter. It was to Lucrezia, in a bold, flowing hand.*"The fire is scheduled. The boy will surviv