Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bound by Vows and Vendetta: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

Chapter 41 — The Fall of Loyalty~LORENZO~There were men who made history. Men who built empires from dust and blood. Men like Adriano Moretti. And then, there were men like Cassian Nero—snakes who slithered through cracks in the stone, feeding off the greatness of others until they grew fangs sharp enough to strike.I had heard the whispers long before I found the truth. Whispers of a man once hailed as the most brilliant consigliere the Morettis had ever known. A man who could talk judges into silence, twist courtrooms into weapons, and manipulate legal battles like they were child’s play. Cassian Nero. Adriano’s shadow. His trusted blade.But the truth always bleeds through, no matter how deeply buried.Cassian had once stood beside Adriano with pride, a loyal consigliere swearing blood-oaths to the Moretti name. Together, they crushed rivals, closed alliances, buried scandals, and silenced traitors. The Moretti family rose higher with every courtroom victory, every forged allianc

Chapter 43 — The Rewritten Rules~LORENZO~Power is a game of mirrors. Smoke. Shadows.But only the foolish forget to check what’s hiding behind the curtain.Cassian Nero didn’t just play the game. He rewrote the damn rules.He had risen from the ashes of his own betrayal like a devil wearing silk—cloaked in legend, fed by greed, and marching on bloodied carpets laid down by the bones of old men who thought loyalty could shield them from his ambition.He moved like myth—appearing only when it suited him, striking only when it hurt the most.And now, while we gathered allies and drew maps with vengeance, he was lounging in the ruins of lesser dynasties like a king who’d already won the war.His compound in Morocco was more palace than fortress. Wide Roman arches. Crystal chandeliers that dripped from the ceiling like the gods owed him their tears. Girls in silk. Men in terror. The laughter of the damned echoing across marbled halls. Cassian Nero sat atop an obsidian throne crafted fr

Chapter 45 — The Phoenix Reign ~LORENZO~A kingdom isn't inherited.It’s taken.Through ash, through blood, through every scream that dares to echo against the spine of a legacy.Cassian Nero was gone.The last note of his wretched opera had been silenced beneath iron walls and Matteo’s surgical cruelty.But I didn’t breathe easy.Because men like Cassian don’t die quietly — their madness leaves echoes.And now that he was gone…The war truly began.The vultures were circling — Don Victor's southern faction, the remnants of the Vasquez loyalists who refused to yield, the black-market brokers in Kyiv who thrived on chaos. With Cassian removed, the territory wasn’t ours. It was up for grabs.And if there’s one thing worse than war with a tyrant……it’s war with a vacuum.I stood atop the De Rossi war room — the old vault carved beneath Sicilian bedrock, once built as a shelter during Mussolini's bombings. Now, it was a cathedral of strategy. Massive monitors lined the walls. Tactile map

Chapter 47 — Secrets We Cannot Tell~LORENZO~I moved through the corridors of the De Rossi manor like a man walking backward through time. Every painting. Every panel. Every fucking artifact now felt like part of a riddle I hadn’t solved. When I reached my father’s old study, the air inside felt colder.Stripped bare.The carpet was rolled back just like in the photo. Matteo had already opened the wall. And there it was.A vault door.Real. Heavy. Reinforced with triple steel plating and an old biometric dial that looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades.But someone had touched it.Recently.“Only your father’s biometrics can open it,” Matteo said, stepping up beside me.“Then why did someone send me a photo of it now?” I murmured.He didn’t answer. Because there wasn’t one.I pressed my hand to the panel.Nothing.But the keypad blinked. Once.Then went dark again.I turned to Matteo. “This isn’t just a vault. It’s a trigger.”“What do you mean?”“I mean… if we force it, somet

Chapter 49 — The Ghost Files~LORENZO~There were betrayals that bled slowly, like a clean knife wound. Then there were the ones that detonated — unexpected, violent, soul-shattering. This one felt like a bomb had gone off inside Lorenzo’s chest.Ariella Santorini.The name burned like a cursed relic on the war room screen. A ghost from his past. A woman who had once built his digital empire from scratch, only to vanish when she failed him. He'd written her off, exiled her. Now, she was back. Alive. And her fingerprints were all over the breach that had crippled his network.But it was worse than that.Matteo stood stiffly beside him, jaw tight, weapon holstered but hand twitching as if ready to draw.“She left a digital signature we almost missed,” Matteo said. “Encrypted within the server trail. It’s not just access. She left a location ping. Ghana. A warehouse in Kumasi.”“Set a flight,” Lorenzo growled. “Now.”Within hours, the De Rossi jet cut across international skies. Lorenzo