Semua Bab THE VENDETTA BRIDE: When the Devil says ‘I Do’ : Bab 31 - Bab 40

Roman sat in the dark, elbows resting on the armrest, eyes looking at the ceiling, and lost in his thoughts as the silence around him stretched. But it wasn’t silence, not really—not with the chaos in his chest, not with the memory clawing its way back from the depths he thought he’d buried it in. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her. Not really. Italy. Florence. Almost a year before the wedding, and before his dad's murder, he had been sent there by his grandfather—some bullshit investment in a vineyard on the outskirts of town. He didn’t care about wine. He didn’t care about Tuscany’s sunset views or the smell of fresh bread in the air. He just wanted to get in, get out, and disappear back into the cold shadows he called home. But that day… That goddamn day, something stopped him. He had been walking alone through one of the cobblestone streets near Ponte Vecchio, hands in his coat pockets, eyes low, thoughts elsewhere—until he caught a flicker of movement through a fogged gl

Vera stirred slowly, her lashes fluttering open as soft morning light spilled through the curtains. For a moment, she felt disoriented—her body sore, her mind foggy. Her palm instinctively touched the now-cold side of the bed. He was gone, always had.A quiet breath left her lips, and she sat up slowly, her legs heavy as she swung them over the edge of the bed. The room still carried the heat of last night—his scent, his touch, his voice. She pressed her knees together, as if trying to erase the feel of him. Dragging herself up, Vera walked across the room, wrapped a shawl around her, and stepped into the bathroom.The moment the cold light flicked on and she met her own reflection, her breath caught. Her hair was tousled, lips a little swollen, faint red marks blooming along her neck and waist—remnants of Roman’s hands, his mouth. Her fingers reached to her collarbone, tracing the bruise he’d left there, and it all came flooding back."Kiss me.""Do it." His hands on her waist, his

The hospital was chaos. Roman burst through the emergency entrance like a storm barely contained in a suit. His eyes scanned for his men, jaw clenched, hands already balled into fists.Marco and Gianni—stood near the nurse’s station. Bloodstained Marco’s sleeve, not his own, and Gianni looked like he hadn’t breathed since the shooting.“What happened?” Roman growled, stepping into their space, “Who the fuck did this?”“We don’t know yet,” Gianni said, eyes darting nervously. “It was a drive-by… black SUV, plates covered. They waited for him outside the docks. Clean hit, straight to the ribs, missed the heart by inches. They wanted to send a message to us.” Roman didn’t blink. Just one long inhale through his nose, like he was bottling rage for later.“Find them,” he said coldly. “I want names, I want faces. Don’t sleep until I have both.” Marco nodded. “Already on it.”Without another word, Roman turned and strode down the hallway.Vera had walked ahead, each step slower than the last

Roman changed his clothes and took a shower, his thoughts circling the chaos of the day. Lilith’s recklessness had gotten under his skin more than he liked to admit. But even that paled in comparison to the real threat still haunting his mind—the attack on Alessio, and worse, the audacity of someone daring to go after Vera.His men were following every lead. The good news: they’d traced the attack that happened on his grandfather’s birthday back to Darien’s family. That filthy bunch like roaches—untrained, poorly equipped, yet persistent. They didn’t have the strength for a proper war, but they kept crawling out of the dark, trying to rattle him. Roman had no doubt this ambush was their retaliation. He had killed Darien, after all.Once he stepped out of the shower, he threw on a fresh set of home clothes—comfortable, neutral. His feet moved on instinct toward Vera’s room, his mind still preoccupied. But as his hand touched the doorknob, last night came crashing back into focus.The w

The evening arrived, painting the sky in shades of amber and fading gold. Vera hadn’t left her room the entire day. She had called the NGO earlier, citing health reasons—not that she needed to explain much. The truth was simpler and heavier than words could carry.She didn’t have the energy to step outside and pretend everything was fine, when inside, everything felt like it was crumbling.The walls of her room had become both prison and shelter. She had sat quietly for hours—no reading, no distractions. Just her, her thoughts, and the haunting replay of that nightmare. And the fear that Roman might one day know everything.By late afternoon, she finally stood, restless and suffocated. She stepped out onto the gallery terrace that overlooked the estate. The breeze was soft, the scent of earth and fading roses welcoming her like an old friend. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the wind graze her skin, almost like a silent apology for everything life had stolen from her.When sh