All Chapters of Velvet Chains: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The Verona villa had been their sanctuary for only a week, but Sera was already cognizant that tranquility was nothing but an illusion in Valerio's life.Morning sunlight streamed across the stone courtyard, bathing the ivy-walled rooms in gold. But the warmth in the air only managed to heat the storm raging within Valerio. He braced himself on the table with a black espresso cup, elbows sinking into the surface, eyes locked on the map of allegiances Dario had laid out the previous night.Sera moved soundlessly, her bare feet shod only in his massive shirt, which was short enough to fall just above her thighs. The silk clung to her curves in a way that once would have been distracting.Not today.Not after what Dario had discovered.Lucrezia hadn't simply plotted the murder of Valerio's mother. She had been positioning herself as the true queen of the underworld, eliminating those who stood in her way—one by one.“Talk to me,” Sera said gently, brushing a hand across Valerio’s shoulde

Betrayal never came easily to the Romanos. And silence on the part of Valerio in the days following the assault was an omen for war.Sera sat on the edge of the large desk in Valerio's office, watching him as he stared at the wall of screens with that unnerving serenity she was becoming all too used to. He'd only uttered a few words since Dario's betrayal. Since they'd buried three men and escaped with their lives."Are you going to talk to me?" she asked quietly.Valerio did not turn. "There's nothing left to say. We move. We strike.""You think I don't want that too?" Sera shoved off the desk, bridging the space between them. "But you can't shut down like this. Not with everything coming."He turned to her finally, and the heaviness in his eyes was something darker than anger. It was grief, it was guilt—the silent hurt of a man unraveling."Every time I let one in, I bury them. My mother first. Then my men. Dario was the last piece of family I had left."Sera's hand rose and touched

The chapel smelled of wax and dust, an odd mix of religion and decay. Moonlight filtered through the broken stained glass, shattering colors on Valerio's face as he opened the hidden compartment beneath the altar.Sera knelt next to him, holding the light in place. Her fingers brushed his as he bent down, grasping a dented metal lockbox covered in soot and decades."This is it?" she whispered.Valerio nodded, his expression fixed in a grim line. "If Dario told the truth.".He opened the box. Yellowed documents, vintage photographs, and a set of cassette tapes were in the folds of a velvet cloth. He took one out, his gloved hand trembling slightly. Printed on the label: *Lucrezia – 2007*.Sera edged forward, her heart pounding. "Is that. your mother's year of passing?"Valerio did not say a word. He stood, carrying the box to the small office behind the confessional. Dust swirled in the shaft of light as he pulled out the old player Dario had stashed away for them in advance. The tape

Ominous silence lay heavy over the air as Valerio and Sera stood at the railing of the antique mansion, gazing out across the sweeping vineyard below. Darkness of night stretched before them like a dark infinity, hiding secrets they were determined to reveal. In contrast to their shared resolve, some unspoken heaviness lay between them."How far are we going to go?" Sera whispered.Valerio turned his face into hers, his expression neutral. "As far as it takes."Her heart leaped in her chest, not at his words, but at the cold determination that colored them. She saw the storm in his eyes, the side of him that was tormented by his quest for justice, for vengeance, and even redemption. But a storm that had already taken too much of him. She did not want it to take any more.“I’ll be right here with you,” she said softly, stepping closer, her voice full of conviction. “We’ll do this together.”He looked down at her, his gaze softening for just a moment before the storm returned. “I’m not

Sera stood in front of the cracked mirror in the bedroom once ruled by Lucrezia, the queen now dethroned. The silence in the villa was unsettling, not with fear, but with absence. The kind of silence that followed after storms when there was nothing left but debris and memories.Her fingers traced the bruises on her neck, marks of a fight she had barely survived. Not physically—she had triumphed. But emotionally? She felt hollow, like she’d been emptied and stitched back together with silk thread, fragile and fine.A knock came at the door.She didn’t flinch.“It’s open,” she said, her voice even.Valerio stepped inside. He wasn’t dressed like the king of the underworld tonight. No suit, no weapon in sight. Just a black shirt rolled to his elbows and the soft exhaustion in his eyes.He watched her a moment. “You’re still wearing that dress.”She looked down at the blood-stained hem. “I guess I forgot how to breathe, let alone change.”He stepped closer. “Let me help you remember.”Her