All Chapters of Bound by Vows and Vendetta: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Chapter 21 — The Mother of ShadowsThe scent of sandalwood curled in the air like a whisper of ancient power. Flames flickered low in brass sconces carved with forgotten crests symbols of dynasties swallowed by blood and betrayal. And there she stood, Luciana De Rossi, wrapped in a midnight cloak, her silver hair unbound, her expression a blend of elegance and venom.She was no longer the woman they remembered.She had been erased from history, locked in silence, cast aside after Don Emilio's death, a death they blamed on her. Even her own son, Lorenzo, bore that wound like a shield between them. But what they didn’t understand was that power never dies. It just waits.And she had waited long enough.The chapel was hollowed into the bones of an ancient monastery — a meeting ground of the Velate Infernali, the Veiled Infernal, an underground order older than any mafia bloodline. Their mission? To restore balance to the underworld by uniting the discarded legacies of criminal empires pa

Chapter 23 — Fire in Her Veins~ARIA~The fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor hummed overhead, sterile and unforgiving. Aria hated this place. The walls were too white, too clean, like they were trying to erase the blood and betrayal that lingered in every corner. But she kept walking, her heels echoing against the marble floors, flanked on both sides by two of Lorenzo's guards—silent shadows in tailored suits.She didn’t ask them to follow her.But she also didn’t tell them to stop.Her heart pounded with every step, her jaw tight, her mind racing with images of Renata lying broken, unconscious, after the ambush Giovanni orchestrated. Aria had seen the footage—grainy hospital security footage Lorenzo had played for her without a word. Renata hadn't stood a chance.And yet she lived.Barely.They said the bullet missed her heart by an inch. A single inch. But even as Aria reached the private VIP ward—owned by the Valente empire itself—she wasn’t sure if she believed in miracle

Chapter 25 — There Can’t Be Two Kings ~LORENZO~Smoke.The air reeked of gasoline and betrayal.Lorenzo kicked open the rusting metal door of the abandoned meatpacking plant on the outskirts of Naples, the rotting stench of animal flesh only eclipsed by the scent of something far more sinister, ambush.He'd walked into the lion’s den.Correction.He'd walked into Giovanni’s den, and it was lined with shadows that moved like wraiths."Too easy," Lorenzo muttered to himself, eyes scanning the darkness. His Glock 19 was already in his hand, finger twitching over the trigger. His instincts screamed, Trap. Trap. Trap.And then it happened.A volley of bullets erupted from the upper level—muzzles flaring like demons coughing fire. Lorenzo dove behind a stack of rusted meat hooks, bullets sparking as they ricocheted off metal. Adrenaline surged in his veins. His men—The Invisible Wraiths—were cloaked in shadows, retaliating with precision, but Giovanni’s mercenaries had been lying in wait.

Chapter 27 — Blood In The Vines~LORENZO~The night stank of blood.I gripped the Beretta tighter, my boots crunching glass beneath me as I stepped over the bodies of Giovanni’s guards. Their blood soaked into the concrete like ink blotting out a signature. I had signed this war with bullets, and every man that stood between me and Aria would die with my name carved into their lungs.Matteo’s voice crackled in my earpiece, “North hall clear. Still no visual on Aria.”I moved silently through the compound, heart pounding like war drums. The bastard had taken her. He had taken her. That fact alone made this rescue a massacre waiting to happen.I spotted two of Giovanni’s men at the end of the hallway, AKs in hand. Sloppy stances. They didn’t hear the death walking toward them.Three silenced shots.One dropped like a ragdoll. The other tried to run—too slow. I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall so hard the plaster cracked. My blade whispered across his neck. He chok

Chapter 29 — Don't Say Me a Prayer~ARIA~The sun was rising in blood.Its crimson hue spilled across the cold marble floor of the one of the De Rossi estates like a premonition. I stood at the edge of the terrace, eyes fixed on the burning horizon, arms wrapped around myself, not for warmth, but control. Everything in me trembled with fury.Not fear.Not grief.Just fury.He rescued me.That was supposed to mean something.But how do you call it salvation when the devil himself pulls you out of hell, only to chain you in a new one?I didn’t thank him. I couldn’t.I wouldn’t give Lorenzo De Rossi the satisfaction. Not after everything. Not after the wedding. Not after my sister.Especially not after what he did to me.I could feel him behind me, watching. The man had a way of commanding a room without uttering a word. His presence was a shadow—dense, suffocating, inescapable.“You’ve barely spoken since we returned,” he finally said.I didn’t turn around. “Maybe I prefer silence to th