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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Veins of Vengeance: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

49 Kabanata

Chapter 1: We will see

Seraphina's POVThe lights hanging above the stage blinds me instantly—but in a breathtaking way as the spotlight moves down on my gracious figure, the bow to my violin placed gently at the tip of the strings itching to strike a chord as my fingers gripped the base of the violin.The silence that washes over the room isn't an uncomfortable or mocking one. It never was.Like always, they're waiting for me to make a move.My signature move.I sucked in a sharp breath, noticing that another spotlight is now shining on my seat—almost as if urging me there like a spell.But I don't move immediately.Instead, I savour the breathtaking reflection of my image against the polished floors, the glass windows, and of course, the big screens plastered all over the walls.Because why the rush when the night has only just started?I bit back a smile and finally walked to my seat, my satin dress trailing behind; midnight blue sparkling at every edge of the material with crystals stitched into the desi

Chapter 2: The terms of chains

SERAPHINA'S POVNo, he's lying! He has to be! There's NO WAY dad would agree to anything this maniac has to say!I'm burning with rage and a slight wave of dread as I marched into the mansion, my hands curling tightly around the phone in my grip. It doesn't feel that Lazaro's tailing behind, both hands tucked into his pockets as his stupid gorgeous hazel eyes narrow at my back with amusement.He finds this funny, but I find it absolutely NOT.“I'm here to see my dad.” I inform the guards standing outside his study room, gritting my teeth towards Lazaro's direction. “He's…a guest.”They don't question me or try to wonder what my dad's biggest rival is doing in the middle of the hallway, and simply nod in understanding, slightly moving to the side as they push the big black doors for us.Does dad already know I'm coming…with him? What's happening?I inhale sharply, taking a quick intake of air and try my best to lift my head high as I walked into the room. The air is suddenly filled with

Chapter 3: A cage of velvet

Seraphina's POV I was biting on my nails throughout the ride out of the mansion, daring not to throw a glance to the man seated so smugly from across my seat.Pretending not to notice when he'd opened the door like a gentleman, who in reality was probably flaunting off one of his latest cars like the prince he is.Pretending not to quickly notice when he discarded the seats around us and simply chose to slide in the seat next to mine, his biceps flexing out involuntarily through his three-piece suit as he run a finger or two through his jet-black hair, drawing my attention to how ruggedly handsome he actually looked, compared to his stupid wits and snarky comments.If only he was mute, then maybe…I'd agreed to this contract in a heartbeat.Overlooked the whole enemy thing.Not like I had a choice in this anyways.A bitter smile twitches at the corner of my lips when that comes into mind. I can't believe he actually let me go without batting a lash.Father must really hate me to come

Chapter 4: A wedding without vows

Seraphina’s POV “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we have to get to the fitting right about now.” I look up from the magazine I’d grabbed off the dining table on my way out, after breakfast, my eyes boring into the face of the mid-twenties maid in aprons. “What fitting?” I demanded, completely clueless. “For the..wedding dress?” She answered, the slight cock of her brows indicating her uncertainty and confusion. I furrow my brows in confusion and curiosity, slapping the magazine shut. “I never gave out my measurements, so,” I folded my arms, “how did you get it?” “U-uhm,” the maid stuttered, licking my lips, “I don’t really know, ma’am.” And she really seems like she doesn’t. “It’s just..” she continued, “Mr. Lazaro said to inform you when it’s time for the fitting. I’m just doing as he said.” Lazaro did? Did he make me a dress without my permission? Sighing in disbelief, I throw my head backwards, squeezing my eyes shut. Just why in the world is this happening? Is this all beca

Chapter 5: Scar Tissue

Lazaro’s POV “Congratulations, man! You’re a proper family man now.” A slap on my back, one I did not appreciate, follows the compliment, and I narrow my gaze to the side, my jaw working terribly. I’m very mindful of the people that come around us, especially my new bride, Seraphina, as we walk out of the reception garden, to where our car is parked in the driveway. My new bride… Despite my resolve, I like the way that sounds, and the idea of it. “You have to seal the deal tonight, brother!” Another one of them call out, and the throng burst into a raucous laughter, hoots and whistles going up in the air. “Yes! Make sure you plant a couple seeds tonight!” I turn my head slightly to the side to see Seraphina’s cheeks stained with pink dust, and I bite back a curse. Stupid bastards getting so raw and foul mouthed, fucking unfiltered, at my own wedding. “Stay close to me,” I whisper under my breath, under all that noise, to her, simultaneously tugging her close. I really do no

Chapter 6: That Asshole!

Seraphina's POV I knew that vodka was a bad idea. Taking Vodka with a certain De Luca on the loose was certainly a bad idea. I should've checked on the doors before deciding to drown myself in my misery. But it wasn't like I was planning on having anyone storm through my door like they had their pants on fire! God, I can't believe the things I told him! That I did! I pressed my palms to my flushed face, visibly shaking away the mocking flashbacks of my seduction to Lazaro. The most painful one of them all was the most unspeakable challenge I'd given him. To come after my pussy. My face turned even more red in embarrassment and I groaned even loudly, tossing the pillows in my laps aside as they did nothing to cover my shame. There was no way I did that! Even if I was intoxicated, he must have slipped something in the vodka! Now that I think about it, he walked in without permission! That asshole! Alright, calm down Seraphina. The last thing you need now is another per

Chapter 7: No such thing as a ghost

Seraphina's POV There's no such thing as a ghost. There's no such thing as a ghost. There's no such thing as a ghost. I tiptoed around the hallways like a lost woman that'd escaped from an asylum, my feet curling up in defense against the cold marbled floors as I tried to memorize every antique and furniture I came across in the hallways I walked into. Not necessarily for a tour, but for survival defense. In case I needed to run now, or later. Possibly both. I swallowed as I stared at a huge portrait staring at me as I sauntered into yet another hallway—Jeez, when were they going to end?—and cocked both brows in surprise when I realize that the persons in the frame struck a little resemblance to Lazaro. His parents? Grandparents? Great grandparents? Great, great grandparents? I squinted my eyes at one that struck my attention. No way! Is that…the person that made violins a thing? Er, what was his name again? Dammit, those home lessons didn't help. Like a moth drawn

Chapter 8: The kill list

Seraphina’s POV I saunter back into the lobby, my heart thrashing wildly in my chest. I glance back at the musical theater, checking to see if he had followed me out. Why does he keep getting in my freaking space and shaking up my nerves? Putting his hands on me like that…on my face…awakening thrills in the pit of my stomach. Who said he could do that? Why does goosebumps scatter across my skin each time he’s near me? It surely is irritation, right? It has to be that, and nothing else. I couldn’t be reacting to those hazel brown eyes, no matter how striking they are. And I’m definitely not reacting to that predator smirk either. I’m simply irritated at even the thought of being married to him. Simply for peace to reign. And how the hell did he plan to protect me from being hurt ever again? This is the mafia! This whole thing. Sighing deeply, I rake my fingers through my waves of dark hair, stomping up the stairs to my room. As I breeze through the corridor that led up to

Chapter 9: Don't keep me waiting

Lazaro’s POV One thing I’ve never liked, is anyone putting their hands on my stuff. Worse, without my permission. And now, as I stand in my room, watching the grey-eyed beauty glare at me with my fucking stuff in her hand, my chest pricks with anger. But I can’t bring myself to act on it. The delicate likes of her were not made to be on the receiving end of my anger. I let out a deep sigh, shoving my fingers in my pockets, as I eyed the list. Well, it was more like my father’s stuff. The list she held in her hand had been prepared by him, after all… “Lazaro,” she calls, stepping forward, “answer me. Why is my brother’s name on a kill-list? What the hell’s going on?” “Woah, woah,” I murmur in return, cocking a brow. “So many questions at once, don’t you think?” “You had better start—“ “Unfortunately,” I cut in bluntly, “I do not have the answers to your questions.” “What?” She furrows her brows. “You’re not going to tell me why my brother’s name is on here?” She queried,

Chapter 10: The dinner event

Seraphina’s POV I walk into the dimly lit yard on Lazaro’s arm, adjusting the black, body-con dress I had on. I hold my head up with a smile, only because my father sat at the table with a glaring smile on his lips, watching me like a predator, and not because Lazaro had instructed earlier that I do so. As we approach the table, Lazaro’s father, Don Julio, keeps his gaze intent on my face, a somewhat displeased look dancing across it. What is it, this time? Pulling out a seat at the table, Lazaro gently nudges me forward, and set me down, then he equally plops down on the seat next to me, scooting closer. “You’re both late,” Don Julio, Lazaro’s father, comments, as soon as we settle in, keeping his displeased gaze on my face. “This is not—“ “The dinner hasn’t even commenced properly, father,” Lazaro interrupts in a blunt tone, leveling his gaze on his father’s face, “please,” he added in a quieter tone, “give it a rest.” Don Julio glares at him for a moment, saying nothing, bef

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