All Chapters of Bound by Vows and Vendetta: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Chapter 90 — The Book of Blood~ARIA~TRIAD SAFEHOUSE, GUANGDONG COAST — 3:17 A.M.The room was too quiet for comfort. The kind of silence only killers and grieving mothers understood. Aria sat at the edge of a rust-bitten desk, her son wrapped in linen and dreams in the cot behind her. In her lap, a leather-bound book.Empty.Until now.She opened it. Tore a page from her own past. And wrote:"They will not teach you mercy. I won’t either. But I will teach you love—because love is the thing they fear most.The pen shook only once. Then steadied.She wrote about silence, the language of killers. About the way empires rot from within long before they fall from without. She wrote about the weight of a name. Of survival. Of trust sold at gunpoint. Of brothers lost in smoke and sisters buried beneath blood.This wasn't a lullaby. This was war scripture.The second entry in The Book of Blood.And she meant every word.~~~~~~~~~~GHOST MOUTH — DAWNLorenzo stood barefoot in the tide, shirt

Chapter 92 — The Assassin’s Prayer~ARIA~TRIAD SAFEHOUSE, GUANGDONG COAST — 4:16 A.M.The night smelled of steel and salt. Rain fell like needles against the tin roof. Inside the safehouse, the world had narrowed to two sounds: Emilio’s breath and the soft hum of lullaby static from the old radio.Maria Dolores rocked him gently, her hands calloused but tender. She had once slit a man’s throat in a confession booth. Tonight, she sang in broken Italian.Aria stood by the door, half-shadowed, blade on her thigh, eyes never blinking. Every hour, she checked the perimeter. Every hour, she whispered the same promise to herself:He will not die under a flag I didn't set on fire first.The night was almost over.And then it began.~~~~~~~~~~THE NANNYShe came at 4:29 A.M.A woman. Early forties. Long braid. Hollow eyes. Wore a Triad nurse's badge, boots too light for a medic. No scent. No breath.Aria smelled it before she saw it: Umbra-grade assassin polish. Chemical-grade stillness."Who

Chapter 94 — The Black House~LORENZO~SOUTHWESTERN CHINA — 6:42 A.M.Fog rolled like old breath over the jagged face of the Yellow Cliffs, curling around scaffolds and camouflaged towers that pierced the morning air like bone through flesh. Beneath the crags, hidden from satellites and whispers, sat The Black House.It wasn't a house.It was a fortress. A creed. A war wound carved into stone.Lorenzo stood at the edge of the cliff, boots in the gravel, coat snapping in the wind like a banner. Below him, the structure sprawled out in nested levels—concrete bastions reinforced with titanium, disguised as ancient temple ruins. Only a few knew it existed. Fewer still would survive entry.Inez approached, nodding at the final inspection tablet in her hands. "South perimeter scan complete. All nodes silent. You want the pulse walls active?"Lorenzo took a long breath. Lit a cigarette."Yes. No one comes in unless we bleed them first."Roji flanked him next. His blade was sheathed, but his

Chapter 96 — The Dagger Wars~ARIA~ROME — OUTER ZONE SAFEHOUSE — 03:11 A.M.The explosion was small by design. A flash-bang tucked into a child’s toy, hidden inside a shipment of powdered milk. Two guards died. One lived long enough to crawl ten feet before his throat sealed with foam.Roji found the remains."They’re not probing," he said, eyes grim. "They’re mapping."Inside the safehouse, Lorenzo stood over a war table littered with black dossiers and red pins. Behind him, Wraiths snapped into combat formations. No briefing. No speeches. Just war.Inez entered. Bleeding from the left arm, a cut clean and cauterized."Madrid. Naples. Shenzhen. Cape Town. Chicago. All hit within the same two hours.""Dagger waves," Lorenzo muttered. "Scorched Womb protocol."He circled a name."Elias finally pulled the trigger."Inez nodded. "He’s not trying to wipe us out. He’s trying to smoke us out."Roji returned with a flash drive."Intercepted Umbra signal. Five teams en route to China. Primar

Chapter 98 — The Oracle of Dust~ARIA~SOUTHERN ISTANBUL — ABANDONED UMBRA RELAY BUNKER — 3:11 A.M.The rain hit like knives on old stone. Somewhere beneath the catacombs of a defunct Umbra relay bunker, Aria moved through dust and forgotten wires, her blade sheathed, her mind sharper than ever. She was hunting whispers—or maybe chasing ghosts.She found him in the lowest vault, sitting in a rusted wheelchair surrounded by a cathedral of dead screens and old servers.The Oracle of Dust.Nobody knew his real name. Once the finest systems-breaker in the South American net wars. Then disappeared. Burned off his fingertips to avoid biometric tracking. Implanted old chips into his own lungs so he wheezed code in his sleep. They said he could read a signal the way monks read scripture.He looked up at her now, eyes pale with cataracts, breath slow but certain."You want prophecy," he rasped."I want truth."He pointed to a terminal still running on diesel backup. A symbol flickered on the c