Semua Bab Twisted vows : Bab 131 - Bab 140

Dawn crept over the horizon, pale and slow. The drive to the old vineyard was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the engine. Mist rolled through the valley like ghosts returning to their graves. I hadn’t visited in years—not since before my sister passed away. The last time I stood among those vines was with her, laughing and barefoot in the dirt. That memory hit me hard, like a knife. Nikolai was behind the wheel, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “You still have a chance to turn back,” he said. “I’m not turning back,” I replied quietly. He glanced over, his gaze sharp yet soft. “Just remember—no matter what happens, don’t show fear. He’ll be looking for it.” “I know.” As we reached the vineyard gates, the sun began to rise. The iron gates were rusted, the once-beautiful De Luca crest was chipped and worn. Two black cars were already parked inside, engines off, doors ajar. As we stepped out, I noticed Viktor standing by the entrance, hands neatly folded behi

The drive back to the villa was eerily quiet. No one said a word—not even the engine could mask the storm brewing in my head. Every second replayed that recording in my mind— “It’s done. The car exploded just outside Milan.” Nikolai’s voice came through loud and clear, confident and cold. That same voice had once whispered promises of protection against my neck. By the time we reached the gates, I was on the brink, my chest tight with a mix of fury and heartbreak. I didn’t even wait for the car to completely stop before shoving the door open and stepping out. The guards at the entrance bowed slightly, clearly puzzled by my urgency, but none dared to stop me. I stormed through the grand hallway, my heels echoing off the marble floors until I found him—just where I expected. Nikolai stood in the study, his back to me, speaking softly in Russian on the phone. When he turned around, the tension in his expression softened. “Alessia,” he said, walking toward me. “Where the hell ha

The tunnel felt like it went on forever. Every breath I took echoed off the cold stone walls, blending with the distant sounds of gunfire behind me. I gripped the hard drive so tightly that it hurt. My palms were slick with sweat, but I just couldn’t let go. Not now. Not with everything—my sister, my father, Nikolai—falling apart around me. When I finally reached the end, I pushed open a rusty door and stepped into the open night. The cold air hit me like a slap—sharp and very real. I was close to the vineyard, with the moonlight spilling over the rows of vines like silver veins. Behind me, the villa stood as a burning silhouette, smoke swirling up toward the stars. For a brief moment, I stood there, heart racing, torn between rushing back to find Nikolai and pressing ahead with the truth. But I had made a promise. And breaking promises had already cost too much. I stumbled through the vineyard, branches scraping my arms, until I finally reached an old stone cottage at the e

The cabin felt still, just the faint hum of the generator outside breaking the silence. Our clothes still smelled of smoke, and I could feel exhaustion settling deeply into my bones. Nikolai locked the door behind us and drew the curtains closed. The way he moved was sharp, almost mechanical — like a soldier who's been through too many close calls. He dropped his gun onto the table and turned to me. “Sit. You’re shaking.” I almost wanted to argue that I wasn’t — but my hands were a dead giveaway, trembling like my body hadn’t caught up to the fact that we were still alive. I took a seat, gripping the small hard drive tightly. It felt heavier now, like it was carrying everything that had happened — my sister’s death, my father’s lies, all those years of buried hatred. Nikolai poured me a glass of whiskey and handed it over. “Drink.” I took a slow sip, feeling the warmth slide down my throat. “What if this drive doesn’t have what we need?” I asked softly. “It will,” he replie

The first gunshot shattered the morning calm. It came from the garden — a sharp crack that caused the crows to take flight into the pale light of dawn. Instantly, Nikolai pushed me behind a stone pillar just as another shot flew past, splintering the wooden door frame. “They’re early,” he murmured, checking his gun. “Maybe Marco underestimated my father,” I replied, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay composed. Nikolai let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “De Luca doesn’t waste time. He hunts.” A flash of light caught my attention from the vineyards beyond the courtyard — dark silhouettes moving between the vines, creeping closer. “Three on the right,” Nikolai whispered. “Two near the gate. More coming from the west.” I swallowed hard, adrenaline pushing fear aside. “What’s our plan?” He met my gaze — calm and steady, though I could see a storm brewing in his eyes. “We defend. You cover the left window. Aim low. Don’t waste bullets.” I grabbed a handgun from the table