All Chapters of Shadows of the Vow: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Antonioni’s POV   I sat at the edge of the long mahogany table, fingers drumming against the surface as Carlo presented the new shipment routes over a Zoom meeting I was having with him.  My eyes skimmed the map, but my mind wasn’t there. Carlo is the man who oversees all my ammo goods’ shipments. He's being paid well to do that sole job. He's got no other job anywhere in the world. I could still taste her on my tongue.  Annabelle. The girl gave me the best sex I have ever had in almost forty something years of my life. We had both cum multiple times, melting into each other. Something about the way she looked at me this morning… not like prey, not like a puppet, but like someone who knew what she wanted. She wanted to paint. Of all the damn thi

Antonioni's POV She stirred when I got into bed. I could feel it. Her breath changed. Slow. Uneasy.Annabelle.I knew she’d gone to bed early. Probably trying to outrun the day in her sleep. It was the kind of escape she always reached for, temporary, childish, harmless. But sleep doesn’t shield you forever.She turned toward me slightly. Her eyes barely opened, but I felt her. That flicker of something.She hated that I affected her. I could see it in the way her lips tightened when I was near. Even in silence, I knew I took up too much space in her mind.The clock glowed red in the dark. 11:08 PM.I said it flatly, as I always did. "Be ready by tomorrow morning. The wedding is at eight a.m."No explanations. No room for questions. And I left. Let her sit in the weight of what was coming. It was better that way. Cleaner.Behind me, the door clicked shut.She didn’t know I’d set the alarm.5:00 AM. Sharp.She groaned when it blared. I heard it from across the room. I was already up. A

Antonioni’s POV She was still trembling.Soft, quiet tremors, like the aftershock of something sacred and savage.Her body lay limp across mine, pliant, exhausted… spent.My cock still inside her, buried to the base, where it belonged.The heat of her walls clinging to me, pulsing faintly with echoes of our last climax. Her back rose and fell with shallow breaths, every exhale brushing against my chest like a prayer I didn’t deserve.But I stayed still. And watched. And listened.To the silence after the storm. To the stillness that followed my kind of love, bruising, breaking, binding.I’d fucked her like a man starved. Like someone trying to rid himself of all restraint.And she… took all of me. Every inch. Every order. Every damn stroke.She was everything I didn't know I needed.Yet I’d always known this part of me, this monster.The one who liked it dark. Controlled. Ruthless.The one who loved cuffs, blindfolds, belts. Not just for the act, but for what it meant.Control. Posses

Antonioni's POV It's been a few days now since my wedding with Annabelle… Meanwhile, as I sat in my study drafting personal plans on how best we can confront Lorenzo in Istanbul, and make it a showbiz for him, I remembered what had happened between Party Mama and I, that night before my wedding.That faithful day, after meeting with my right hands and having told them about my plans to wed Annabelle the next day, evening had bled into night like someone dragging a dirty brush across the sky. I’d barely stepped out of the south wing when I heard her calling.“Antonioni.”My mother’s voice. Soft. Warm. Hopeful.I turned. Patty Mama stood there, tied up in silk and perfume, looking like she was forty years younger and expecting something magical to happen.And then she said it again…what she’d told me earlier in the day.“My lover is coming tonight. I want this house to give him a warm welcome.”For a second, I almost laughed. Or screamed. I’m not sure which.The villa had been crawling

Annabelle's POV These days, I barely glance at the right side of the bed.It stays untouched. A cold, silent rebuke.Antonioni hadn’t come to bed for some nights now. I’d lost count.At first, I tried not to care. Told myself he was just busy, caught up in whatever violent chess game men like him play in the dark. But nights stretch longer when the man you gave your body to starts fading from your sheets. And worse, from your thoughts.I woke up late again. 8:03am.“Shit.”Anna was probably already in the kitchen, waiting to drill me with another round of cooking lessons. We'd started off playfully, but now it felt like I’d enlisted in a culinary army. She didn’t smile anymore. She critiqued. Measured. Expected.And part of me wanted that.I washed up quickly, threw on joggers and a loose shirt, and jogged down the stairs.My thighs still burned a little from the roughness of that other night with Antonioni. My wrists too. I must’ve clenched them in sleep again. I felt like a brui