Lahat ng Kabanata ng Chains of Velvet, Heart of Fire: Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

Chaos erupted as Lucien and his breach team burst into the holding area. Dust and echoing shouts filled the cavern; lights swinging from disturbed cables cast frantic shadows. Lucien’s heart seized the moment time stood still.At the room’s center, Seraphina stood defiant, blood streaked down one cheek, her eyes searching for the shape of hope. As soon as she saw Lucien—an apparition in dark gear, shoulder bloodied, rifle raised—the world snapped together again.“Lucien,” she whispered, breath ragged but electric. “I—”He dropped his gun and crossed the room in two strides, calling: “Matteo, Anton—secure exits.” His voice was fury and relief warring at once.Anton kicked the door closed behind him. “Secure the corridors!” he barked as Matteo moved to cut communications.Lucien gathered Seraphina into a fierce embrace. Each was secretly afraid the other would vanish if they relaxed. Her cheek pressed against his chest, Lucien felt the raw tremble of her body, and he squeezed her tighte

Lucien stood at the estate’s high terrace as pale dawn broke over the olive groves. The wind carried the tang of salt and pine, but none of it touched the hardness in his gaze.In his mind, Seraphina was never far—he could still see every bruise, every pained twitch below her eyelids. So far, she had found sanctuary, but he knew shelter wasn’t enough.Danger still lurked.Already, he had doubled the perimeter teams. Matteo and Anton had been pulled from the frontline planning and forced into night watches. Vincenzo had shifted everyone into tighter formations.Even in daylight, there would be no unguarded moments. Lucien didn’t question that bounce of unease in her eyes; nor did he attempt to hide it.Seraphina… He turned as she emerged onto the terrace. She wore a sweater too large, sleeves covering her hands, and walked with a cautious grace. He called her name softly—no greeting, no warmth, just watchfulness.“Lucien.” Her voice was quiet. She moved to the balustrade and looked out

The tension at Marchesi’s war table sharpened as noon approached. Screens pulsed with real-time updates: traffic cams showing appeared Italian embassy shipments in Zagreb, alerts of rising bank account flags, and chat logs from anonymous darknet users picking up whispers of Interpol action. Matteo’s fingers raced, controlling satellite feeds and ensuring the leaks stayed just plausible.Seraphina hovered near the edge of the room, eyes flicking from map to data streams. She wasn’t here just to watch—she was mining this moment. Quietly, on her personal tablet, she cross-referenced off-shore trust names with Lucien’s companies, logged layer upon layer of legal shields. She bookmarked every mention of Marchesi Vineyard, Marchesi Investimenti, and even smaller charitable entities under Lucien’s name.He needed to know they had full accountability. She needed proof they couldn’t be used against him—nor against herself.The first major crack appeared at one.Anton’s voice cut through the hu

Later, under a moonlit Zagreb sky, Croatian troops and Marchesi mobsters moved under Vincenzo’s coordination. Unmarked vans pulled up beside two docks—a silent ballet of flashlights, whispering radios, and disciplined footsteps. From Lombard to Balkan, the second strike was underway.Matteo led the intervention at Rijeka port. Security cameras captured masked men storming a container shop. In swift sweeps, they seized crates filled with rifles stamped with Gabe’s codes, encrypted hard drives, and forged paperwork. The fighter jets above weren’t for show—they ensured nobody fled by air.Seraphina watched through the secure link. She saw the crates open, saw Greek charter documents for a yacht named Greater Flame.She saw a small photo pinned inside one lid: her in a blue gown, taken from that yacht party in Dubrovnik. She had never given consent.They used her image as bait. She swallowed a storm of disgust and reveng

The morning sun poured through alabaster curtains, illuminating the silk sheets tangled around Lucien and Seraphina.The estate’s heartbeat was slow, safe. Outside, the staff had sealed the villa; no traffic, no interruptions—just two people rediscovering each other.Lucien stirred first. His cheek rested against her shoulder; their skin pressed together, warm and familiar.He brushed a finger along her collarbone, his touch soft. Seraphina curled slightly against him, eyelids heavy but the tension in her jaw betraying the weight of unspoken thoughts.He kissed her neck. “Morning.”She murmured in response, wrapping her arms around him. He propped himself up on one elbow to watch her face. In her green eyes, he saw that everything he’d done—every sacrifice, every plan—was worth it.“You stayed,” she whispered, voice thick.“No,” he corrected gently. “I’m her