Semua Bab Chains of Velvet, Heart of Fire: Bab 141 - Bab 150

Seraphina’s words lingered like the echo of a siren in Lucien’s ears.They tried to rewrite me.He had seen the fear in her eyes before, but this was not that. It was something deeper. It was the look of someone who had faced death, manipulation, confusion, and come out the other side with her mind sharpened like a blade. She was not broken.She was sharpening.Vincenzo watched from a few feet away as Lucien moved to stand closer beside her. He was quiet, but his eyes were tracking every twitch of movement in the treeline and every fluctuation in Seraphina’s voice.Seraphina stood under the cold wash of moonlight, the wind whipping her dark hair across her face. Her expression had settled into unreadable calm, but something about the way her fingers flexed near her side gave her away. Not to most—but to Lucien, it was enough.She was not under control. She was playing a part.Lucien watched her in silence for a few more seconds, letting his eyes scan her posture, her breaths, even the

The Sicilian sky was a clear blue canvas, brushed with soft gold as the early evening sun settled behind the hills. At Palazzo Marchesi, the courtyard had been transformed into a space worthy of royalty, decorated with white and gold streamers, intricate floral arrangements, and hand-carved lanterns glowing like captured stars. Everything had been prepared with precision, care, and one singular purpose.Lucio’s third birthday.The boy stood at the center of it all in a miniature navy blue vest and slacks, his storm-gray eyes glowing with excitement. A small crown of olive leaves rested over his unruly black hair, and cake frosting was smeared proudly across his chin.Lucien watched from near the fountain, arms folded, trying and failing to hide his smile. In his son’s laughter, in the chaos of harmless joy, something inside him breathed again.Matteo leaned in beside him, sipping from a glass of Prosecco. “I have to admit, I never imagined the Marchesi estate would see a birthday part

The storm had broken over the Ligurian coast by the time Lucien and Seraphina touched down at the private airstrip. The microchip inside Silvano Etra’s pendant had taken them far from Sicily, beyond the known properties of the Marchesi family, and far from anything tied to the Red Chamber’s documented sites. The coordinates pointed inland, to the countryside northeast of Genoa, to a derelict vineyard that once belonged to a man named Matteo Gallini.Gallini had died more than twenty-five years earlier. On paper, he was a winemaker. But through layers of shell corporations and falsified ownership documents, they discovered he was also a silent partner in a pharmaceutical firm that had funded the Codex's embryonic research, Project Solace, before it had a name.By dawn, they were inside the crumbling remains of the Gallini estate, a once-grand villa now wrapped in ivy and long abandoned. The earth was soft beneath their boots. Nature had begun reclaiming the house, but the stones beneat

The Palazzo Marchesi had weathered more storms than the family that ruled it. Tonight, it braced for another one, quiet, methodical, deadly.At the edge of the estate’s reinforced strategy room, Seraphina stood still as Elian unrolled the coded missive left by the courier.We still write the final song.Vincenzo leaned over the table, frowning. “The handwriting was printed using a custom fountain nib. Expensive. European.”Lucien nodded slowly. “But the message is American-coded syntax. ‘We still write.’ Not ‘We will.’ It’s a signal.”“They’re not threatening us,” Elian said, voice cool. “They’re declaring they’ve started.”The tension in the room spread like fire. Matteo exchanged a look with Anton, whose right hand hovered close to the holster on his side, despite his lingering injuries. It had only been two weeks since he’d regained full strength. Not that he would’ve stayed behind either way.Seraphina’s fingers tapped the table, her gaze never leaving the words.“They think I’ll

The night around Palazzo Marchesi was hushed, but not calm. There was a kind of stillness in the air that seemed too calculated, as if the earth was holding its breath in anticipation. Inside the estate, the war room remained dimly lit, glowing faintly from a map that had long stopped being about terrain and had become a web of loyalty, lies, and blood.Lucien stood by the window, his eyes on the dark garden below. Behind him, Seraphina flipped through the coded pages from Valeria’s journal. Her fingers paused on a familiar sketch, one that reminded her not of her past, but of Lucio’s.He had drawn the same symbol two weeks ago. A pattern he claimed came from a dream. They hadn’t known then it was also the crest of an extinct Codex sect.Seraphina exhaled slowly. “They’re trying again. I feel it.”Lucien didn’t answer. His stillness was agreement enough.Just then, the door opened. Elian stepped in, phone in hand. His expression was controlled, but the urgency in his stride betrayed h