Semua Bab Bound by Vows and Vendetta: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Chapter 61 — The Womb and the War~ARIA~War was no longer something Aria could wage from a distance.It lived beneath her skin now.Kicked beneath her ribs.And for the first time, she understood what it meant to carry not just a legacy—But the future.~~~~~~~~~~The encrypted letter arrived through Umbra’s dead-channel port, reserved only for internal Benedetti fail-safes. A protocol that hadn’t been activated since Don Gianni’s final days.No one should’ve known how to use it.The seal wasn’t digital. It was wax.Pressed with the sigil of the original Benedetti crest — not the one on Aria’s documents, not the one burned onto her enemies.This was older. Ancestral. Forgotten by all but a few.She broke it open in the silence of her quarters.Inside: six lines. Handwritten. No signature."They do not need your son’s blood.They only need your scent.The gene labs are moving east.Shanghai. Manila.He is the heir to Umbra’s curse.And every syndicate wants a piece of his bones."She

Chapter 63 — Rituals of the New Blood~ARIA~The jungle was thick with incense and heat. Even the air tasted ceremonial.Aria stood at the edge of the fire ring, surrounded by cartel royalty, blood-painted dancers, and high priests dressed in white linen robes soaked with mescal and blood. The South American syndicates didn’t host negotiations. They hosted rites. And this night was no exception.She wore no crown. No insignia. Just a black dress that shimmered like oil in moonlight, and beneath it—a protective shell woven with biometric silk and Umbra sensors. She wasn't here as a guest. She was here as prophecy incarnate.Lorenzo stood six paces behind her, close enough to protect, far enough to let her own power eclipse the stars. His suit was charcoal. His eyes never stopped scanning.A voice echoed from the altar.“Tonight, we honor the womb that carries tomorrow.”The crowd murmured. The high priest approached with a golden blade.“The Queen of Ashes will bless the circle. Her bl

Chapter 65 – Luciana’s War Letter~ARIA~NAPLES COMPOUND – DAWNThe sky cracked open in pink and bruised gold. A rare softness. The only kind the De Rossi estate ever knew.Aria stood in the tower room, sipping black tea, watching the vineyards wake. Birds skimmed low. Guards moved like ghosts between marble statues. Her eyes flicked to the eastern field—a blind spot Luciana had once tried to exploit.Then it came.A low whine overhead.The drone.It sliced across the sky like a hawk of steel, then dropped fast—a perfect vector—until it hovered above the compound's central courtyard.Aria was already moving.Matteo was steps behind her, gun drawn.The drone lowered a small obsidian box via titanium thread, then shot off in a blur.No insignia. No traceable ID.Just the box.Aria approached. Her fingers curled around it.Warm. Sticky.Blood.She opened it.Inside, a letter. Folded. Heavy. Soaked in dried crimson. Sealed with Luciana’s personal mark—a wolf's fang pressed into wax.She u

Chapter 67 — The Labyrinth Vault~LORENZO~They descended into Paris through fog, shadow, and silence.Not through Charles de Gaulle. Not through any known airport.Through a tunnel carved beneath the Catacombs, long abandoned, long forgotten. It was only accessible via a forged Metro line that hadn’t operated since 1962—a piece of dark Umbra architecture that only three living men knew about. Lorenzo was one of them.The other was Matteo. The third was already dead.Aria said nothing during the journey. She sat across from him in the rusted railcar, dressed in black from boots to collar. Her face was pale in the flickering sodium light. Her eyes were oceans under siege.She hadn't spoken much since Geneva. Since Valentina. Since she'd carved betrayal into a woman's ribs like a scripture no one could misinterpret.But silence didn’t mean weakness.It meant calculation.And that was more dangerous.~~~~~~~~~~THE CATACOMBS: LEVEL 7Lorenzo scanned the biometric locks with a dermal patc

Chapter 69 — The Crimson Exchange~LORENZO~The Moroccan air was a heatstroke of shadow and dust. Somewhere beyond the desert line, a storm was gathering—but inside the fortress walls of the old Marrakesh citadel, the world was already on fire.Every syndicate had come. Cartel lords wrapped in gold-thread robes. Yakuza emissaries marked with skin-wrapped oaths. Triad high priests. Eastern Bloc barons. And at the head of the long obsidian table sat the hosts: the Idrissi family, old Umbra allies with oil-backed blood and a reputation for neutrality.Neutrality was a myth tonight.This wasn’t a negotiation.This was a tribunal.And the sentence had already been whispered.Lorenzo stood in the far shadows of the war chamber. The walls were carved from ancient stone, etched with maps older than half the families in the room. The ceiling was open to sky—a blood-red dusk where birds did not fly.Aria was veiled.Not because she needed to hide. But because mystery burned brighter than any cr