บททั้งหมดของ Bound by Vows and Vendetta: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Chapter 50 — Protect the Key~LORENZO~The Umbra legacy coiled like smoke around Lorenzo’s throat. It wasn’t just haunting him now; it was hunting them both.He stood in the war room at dawn, the Naples compound still wrapped in the eerie silence that followed too much blood and not enough answers. Screens flickered with encrypted maps, biometric scans, chatter intercepts. But his eyes weren’t on the data. They were on a single, blinking icon labeled:AR_UMBRA_PROTOCOLAria’s encoded file. The one his father swore to protect or destroy.~~~~~~~~~~Lorenzo stood on the private balcony of the Naples estate, eyes fixed on the sea, the cold bite of wind slicing through his shirt. But it wasn’t the chill that unsettled him. It was what he now knew.Aria wasn’t just a queen born of blood and fire. She was the final cipher in a legacy his father buried in code — the trigger of Project Umbra.And everyone wanted her.Behind him, the war room buzzed. Matteo and two of his top security advisors

Chapter 52 — The Book of Ashes~ARIA~They came to the ruins of Naples expecting a crown.She gave them a scripture instead.~~~~~~~~~~Three days after the Benedetti theater bled for her crown, Aria sat alone in the De Rossi war chamber—once Lorenzo’s domain, now hers to use as she pleased. The room had changed. No longer austere and clinical. She had gutted it. Stripped the walls of maps and replaced them with oil paintings of ruin and conquest. A Moretti tapestry hung over the center command table. Not for nostalgia. For declaration.Her dagger sat beside a leather-bound ledger. Empty pages stared back like promises waiting to be carved.She dipped the pen.At the top of the first page, she wrote the title in Latin:LIBER CINERUM.The Book of Ashes.Her commandments would be etched here. Not rules. Not omertà. Commandments.The old mafia code — silence, tradition, obedience — had died the night she carved Santino Albero’s throat like a hymn. This was her gospel now. Built on blood

Chapter 54 — Smoke Over Naples~ARIA~The sky over Naples turned black just before dawn.Not with rain. Not with ash.With fire.Three warehouses—hers—erupted like beasts swallowing their own spines. One by the harbor, another behind the meat district, and the third at the edge of the east docks. All key to supply lines. All insured with blood.Aria watched the explosions from the balcony of the southern tower, robe barely tied, hair loose down her back. She didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. She simply watched the empire she’d just claimed begin to bleed from the inside.“New Cosa,” Matteo confirmed behind her, breath sharp. “Remnants, maybe. Maybe a new head we haven’t seen yet.”Aria didn’t answer.She already knew.This wasn’t a message.It was a dare.~~~~~~~~~~Two hours later, the Ash Blades moved through Naples like shadows with knives.The target: Club Basilica — a high-end front run by Don Silvano Velluto, a New Cosa sympathizer who once sent her a wedding gift laced with cyanide.

Chapter 56 — The First Betrayal~ARIA~Trust was the first currency to rot in an empire.And tonight, something was rotting.Aria stood in the center of her private greenhouse, where jasmine climbed shattered stone and lavender grew in soil soaked long ago with blood. This place was meant to be sacred — her mother’s last design before she vanished into myth.But the sanctum had been breached.Matteo stood beside the vine-covered fountain, his jaw clenched, the transmitter in his gloved hand no larger than a ring.“Signal pings every six hours,” he said. “Broadcasts to a low-orbit satellite. Three pings match our last two compromised shipments.”Aria didn’t speak.She was staring at the rosebush to the left of the fountain. That was where she used to sit when she still allowed herself to breathe.Now it was a graveyard.Not of bodies.Of trust.“Who planted it?” she asked quietly.Matteo didn’t hesitate. “Only four people had access to this garden. You. Lorenzo. The chef. The housekeep

Chapter 58 — Heretics~ARIA~They came in white robes and crimson rings.But they didn’t come for forgiveness.They came with prophecy.And bombs.~~~~~~~~~~It started with a letter.Delivered not by courier or hawk — but by hand. Slipped under her door like a prayer soaked in gasoline.The paper was hand-bound. Old vellum. The ink smelled like oil and incense. The seal bore no insignia, only a symbol:A weeping lamb, crowned in thorns.She read it once.Then again.Every word bled with fire and scripture:The child is not yours.He belongs to the Reckoning.The Umbra Line has gone too far.The Mother of Reset will burn the old gods of men.Repent, Queen of Ash.Before judgment begins.She didn’t flinch.Just folded the paper and whispered, “Matteo. Find who sent this.”~~~~~~~~~~By nightfall, they came to her doorstep — not with guns, but with Bibles.Three men in white cassocks, led by a fourth who bore the ring of a defrocked bishop. He introduced himself as Father Callistus. His