Semua Bab Twisted vows : Bab 81 - Bab 90

Alessia’s POV The first week after leaving the convent felt surreal. No late-night calls. No hushed voices behind closed doors. No threats hidden in dark envelopes. Just sunlight warming the old stones of the villa. Sofia’s laughter rang out through the garden. Nikolai’s jacket draped over my chair, his presence lingering everywhere. I tried to adjust to the quiet. I attempted to let my guard down. But each time the phone rang, my heart raced, like a deer sensing danger before I even heard who it was. Matteo caught me gazing out the window three nights in a row, staring at the olive grove as if I expected Severi to emerge from under the roots. “Alessia,” he said softly, “there’s no one left to come for you.” I wanted to take his words to heart. God, I really did. Nikolai’s POV I watched her struggle through it all. I saw the way she flinched when the guards changed shifts at the gate. I noticed her fingers tapping out invisible rhythms on the table, the same beat sh

Alessia’s POV The crunch of tires on gravel outside sliced through the quiet of the estate, jarring me. I instinctively moved closer to Nikolai, even though it felt like a hit to my pride. He stiffened but laid a hand on the small of my back, grounding me. We didn’t say a word. The fire crackled, suddenly feeling too loud, almost mocking our fear. “Stay here,” he finally spoke, his voice carrying an edge of steel. I bristled. “You expect me to let you walk into a trap? No way.” His gaze held mine—firm, commanding. It was the kind of look that could usually shut down arguments, but not this time. I was too fed up with silence, too tired of being protected while others suffered. “You can’t keep me out of this, Nikolai,” I said, low but fierce. “If Arturo is after me, I’m not going to hide.” A flicker of conflict crossed his face, like he wanted to argue, but the sound of tires drew closer, headlights briefly lighting up the curtains. He cursed softly and pulled me towards the wa

Alessia’s POV Sleep was nowhere close to being an option. Every time I shut my eyes, all I could picture were Arturo’s men at the door, smug and indifferent, bringing his shadow right into our home. The memory crawled on my skin like spiders, leaving me restless. Nikolai was sprawled on the sofa across the room, his hand resting on his chest. He looked surprisingly gentle in the fading firelight, like he’d shed some heavy weight. But I knew better than to think it was peaceful; his silence was just a way of calculating. Even in sleep, his body buzzed with tension, always waiting for the next fight to begin. I envied that steadiness. I sat down at the desk, spreading out the papers he’d left behind—maps, notes, lists of names. It looked like a puzzle of death laid out before me. Every arrow pointed to a battlefield, every circled name belonged to a man who would either kill or get killed. And right in the middle of it all: Arturo De Luca. My father. Just his name made my

Alessia’s POV By the time we got back to the safe house, dawn was breaking, turning the sky into a mix of iron and fire. I felt utterly drained, but my mind kept replaying images from the docks—the smell of oil and gunpowder, the heavy bomb Nikolai had pushed into my hands, the sight of that guard collapsing like a marionette whose strings had been cut. I sank onto the edge of the bed, feeling numb. My hands were still shaking, even though the mission had gone better than it could’ve. We hadn’t been fully caught. Arturo’s shipment was delayed and crippled. Still, despite our success, I couldn’t shake off this gnawing guilt. “This was just a preview,” Nikolai said from across the room as he shrugged off his coat, tossing it aside. His shirt was soaked with sweat, and though his movements were sharp, he seemed to embody control. This was a man who thrived on adrenaline, always walking that fine line. “The real fights are still to come.” I pressed my palms against my knees, trying t

Alessia’s POV The night felt like it would go on forever, wrapping the villa in its shadows like a heavy blanket. I sat by my bedroom window, staring at the dim reflection of my face in the glass. My heart still hadn’t calmed down from the chaos of the evening—the whispers, the warnings, and the creeping sense that with every step I took, I was just diving deeper into a maze created by my father. I couldn’t sleep. How could I? Every secret I uncovered seemed to lead to another, each truth came with another betrayal. A soft knock jolted me from my thoughts. I tensed up, but before I could say anything, the door creaked open. Nikolai stepped inside, quietly shutting the door behind him. He didn’t say anything right away; he just looked at me, a mix of exhaustion and intensity in his eyes. “You should get some rest,” he finally said, his voice low. I let out a hollow laugh. “Rest? When everything I thought I knew is falling apart in front of me?” I turned to face him fully, my arms