Início / Mafia / Bound To The Devil's Heir / Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Todos os capítulos de Bound To The Devil's Heir : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

87 Capítulos

011

Serena Vale point of View The car ride was long and quiet.Our fingers weren't intertwined. our bodies didn't touch. we sat in the back of the black Rolls Royce like strangers who just happened to share the same last name now. Wife. The word tasted foreign in my mouth. sharp around the edges. Cold But it was official. I was now Mrs. Damien Alaric. The world knew it. The internet had exploded with photos of our kiss, the gown, the guest list. I was trending on every gossip site by noon. My face was everywhere. And that's what terrified me. Because someone saw me. I could still feel the way my heart plummeted when I caught sight of that face- half- shielded behind a marble pillar on the balcony. A face from my past. A past I'd buried so deep, I thought it would never claw its way back. But now? My name may have changed, but my face didn't. And the whole world was watching it. "What's going through that mind of yours?" Damien's voice cut through the silence, deep and unrea

012

Damien's point of View She was lying to me.I didn't need proof. I didn't need facts or files or faces.I felt it.The moment we got into the car after the wedding, she changed. Her silence wasn't her usual cold defiance it was something else. Haunted. Guarded.And when she looked out the window, I saw this flicker of fear she tried to hide.it wasn't about the marriage. it wasn't about me.it was something or someone else.I stood in my office the morning after the entire city spread beneath me in glass and steel. The mansion was too quiet. she hadn't come out of the bedroom. Not that I expected her to.But she wasn't just tired.she was hiding.and I hated that it made me want her more.I hated that I still remembered the sound she made when I kissed her, the soft gasp, the way her fingers had curled into my chest. How she trembled against me like she wanted it just as badly as I did.That kiss wasn't fake.Not for me.I told myself I didn't care. That this was business. A strategy

013

Serena's point of View Two years ago.The sound of the belt striking the wall still made me flinch, even when it didn't land on my skin."Useless brat," My father spat. "Go to the damn store and don't come back with another excuse." He didn't look at me when he said it just waved his hand in the air like i was a fly that had overstayed it's welcome.I picked up myself from the corner, biting back the sting in my ribs. I didn't cry. I'd stopped doing that a long time ago. crying made him angrier.He was a police officer. The badge gave him power. The house gave him privacy and I gave him nothing but disappoinment.At least, that's what he told me everyday.I grabbed my coat and stepped out into the cold. The world outside our house didn't know what happened behind the peeling blue door. people smiled at my father on the street. They nodded when he walked into the local diner. They never noticed the bruises I learned to hide with long sleeves and quiet lies.I was seventeen and alread

014

Serena Vale point of View Two years ago.The next time I saw Uncle Matthias, he was in our living room.I had just returned from school late, tired , sore from carrying my portfolio of unfinished sketches and when I opened the door, his voice slid through the hallway like oil."I told you I'd handle it, Jude. But you never listen." I froze in the entryway.My father's voice answered. low. Harsh. "You're not in charge here, Matthias. This is still my house." "That house wouldn't exist if it weren't for me."I took a step back.They hadn't noticed me yet. I couldn't hear the clink of glasses whiskey, probably and the thud of my father's heavy boots pacing across the worn floorboards.I slide my shoes off and crept closer, staying behind the cracked drywall near the dining room arch. I peeked just enough to see them both.My father sat hunched in his chair, hair messier than usual, uniform shirt wrinkled and half buttoned.Matthias was opposite composed, sleek, dressed in another dark

015

Serena Vale point of View;Two years ago.Something was changing.At first, it was subtle. My bruises were fading. The silence In the house stretched longer each night. My father once a constant storm of slurred threats and shattered glass was barely around anymore.He'd come home late, mumble something under his breath, then disappear again for hours or even days.And for the first time in my life, I didn't flinch everytime the door creaked open.But peace felt too strange to trust.it didn't feel like safety.it felt like a setup.The house began to shift in small, sharp ways.There were phone calls at odd hours. Doors closing before I could walk in. My father stopped asking me to cook or clean. stopped yelling at all. He just looked through me, like I wasn't even there.Then there were the men.strange men.Once, I came home early from school and found one sitting on our couch, tattoos up his neck, expensive watch flashing when he lifted his drink. He said nothing to me, just stare

016

Two years agoI don’t remember the ride to the penthouse.Just the sound of the car door slamming. The weight of my father’s hand pressing me down into the back seat. The scent of smoke and leather. My heart beating so loud I could barely breathe.And Matthias sitting in the front, silent, like he was already calculating the next move.They didn’t hit me.They didn’t scream.That silence scared me more than anything else ever had.The elevator ride felt like drowning.When the doors opened, we stepped into a hallway lined with black marble and soft lighting. The kind of wealth that whispered instead of screamed.Matthias’s penthouse.I knew it without being told.He opened a door near the end of the hall. The room was sleek—minimalist furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows, an iron-glass door that sealed shut behind me.I turned just in time to hear the lock click.They left me there.No explanation. No threats.Just me and the dark.The room wasn’t a dungeon.But it was a prison.I chec

017

Serena's point of View I woke up in a different room.It wasn’t my bedroom, not the faded walls of our old house or even the suffocating penthouse I had stumbled into before. This was something new something worse.The first thing I noticed was the smell. Damp wood, cigarette smoke, and something metallic that clung to my tongue like rust. My eyes blinked against the dim light of a bare bulb swinging overhead, casting long shadows that twisted like fingers along the cracked plaster walls.The second thing I noticed was the door. Heavy, reinforced, with bolts on the outside. Not a bedroom door. A prison door.I pushed myself up, my muscles aching, my ribs still tender from where my father’s belt had left purple marks days ago. The cot I lay on was thin, sagging in the middle, and smelled faintly of mold. There was a small barred window above me, high enough that I couldn’t reach it even if I stacked the chair on the table.This wasn’t punishment. This was containment.My breath caugh

018

Serena's point of View The storm broke inside me before it ever broke outside.I had been watching them for days now listening to scraps of conversations through the cracks in the walls, piecing together fragments of something far bigger than I could fully comprehend. The safehouse was no longer just a prison; it was an artery feeding into something monstrous. Weapons, shipments, names whispered like curses.I wasn’t supposed to know any of this. I was supposed to sit quietly, eat the food shoved under my door, and wait for the men in my life to decide my fate. But I couldn’t. My silence had already cost me too much.So when my father came into the room that evening, I made my mistake.The door creaked open with its usual groan, light spilling into the dim cell. He stepped inside, shoulders heavy, eyes bloodshot. His uniform shirt was gone, replaced by a wrinkled undershirt. He looked less like a police officer and more like a man already halfway consumed by the shadows he worked f

019

Serena's point of View I had been counting the nights.One mark on the wooden wall for each day I endured, each sunrise I survived in that rotting cage. The tally had grown long enough to remind me of one truth: if I stayed, I would never leave alive.The seed of defiance planted in me the day my father said “This empire will be yours too” had grown into a fire. A fire that begged for release. And tonight, I was going to set it free.The guards were drunk again. I could hear their laughter bleeding through the walls, slurred and careless. Bottles clinked, a chair scraped, and one of them shouted about women he would never have.They thought I was nothing. Just a girl with hollow eyes and bruises fading under her skin. Just another victim. They had no idea I was watching, memorizing, learning.For days I’d studied every corner of the safehouse. The exposed wires in the hall where the bulbs flickered. The fuel barrels stacked carelessly in the storage room. The cracked lock on the sid

020

Damien’s Point of ViewMarriage was never supposed to change me.That’s what I kept telling myself in the weeks since Serena Vale became Serena Alaric. She was a pawn, a carefully chosen piece on the board, a shield against my enemies and a symbol of power for my allies. That was all.At least, that’s what it was supposed to be.Yet, ever since the wedding, something had shifted. The world watched us with hungry eyes, the papers calling us the empire’s golden couple, but behind closed doors she was distant. Withdrawn. As if the vows we exchanged were nothing more than chains on her wrists.And maybe they were.But what bothered me most wasn’t her silence it was the way it clawed at me, burrowed under my skin, and made me restless. I shouldn’t care. I had never cared before. Women came and went like whispers. None of them lingered. None of them mattered.So why the hell did she?I found myself pacing the office in the mansion, the night stretching long past midnight. Contracts, ship

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