All Chapters of Bound By Blood And Vows.: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

AvaThe air was crisp as I stepped outside, the oversized weight of Conner’s shirt brushing my bare thighs. It smelled like him, spice, whiskey, and something darker I hadn’t quite figured out yet. It hung off me like a lover’s secret, soft and worn and claiming me in its own quiet way. Sunlight filtered through the trees above, casting golden slivers across the forest floor. For a second, I just stood there on the porch, blinking at the scene in front of me. Trees. Endless, thick and tangled, with moss climbing trunks like ivy and birdsong echoing softly in the morning hush. It was the first time I’d seen daylight in, I don’t even know how long. The brightness didn’t sting. It breathed something back into me.“You alright there, lass?” Conner asked, stepping out behind me, his hand grazing the small of my back like a tether.“I didn’t know we were in the middle of nowhere,” I said, voice hushed.He gave a small smile, almost apologetic. “Middle of nowhere’s the best place to go unnot

AvaThe zipper slid open with a quiet hiss as I unfolded the new luggage bag Conner had set beside the bed. Of course he’d thought of that. I sat cross-legged on the floor, the scent of his cologne still clinging to the air from the shirt I wore. One by one, I pulled the tags off each new piece, folding the soft fabrics, the sharp lines, the daring little numbers that didn’t belong to the girl who once lived behind a locked door. This wasn’t about outfits. This was about armor. Silk, leather, lace, each piece a declaration that I was still here, still me, whoever that might turn out to be. I tucked them into the bag with care, adding my old clothes only as a reminder of where I came from, not where I was going. The old me might’ve hidden in shadows. This new version? She wore Conner’s shirt knotted at the waist and packed stilettos like weapons. I zipped the suitcase shut, stood, and took a breath. My heart beat steady. Nervous, sure. But stronger than it had been in a long time. When

NicoThe house was quiet, too quiet. Ava’s absence echoed louder than any gunshot I’d ever heard. No soft footsteps down the hall. No faint hum of her singing to herself in the garden. No scent of her perfume on the air. Just silence, heavy and cold. She’d left, and worse, she was still going through with the deal. Still taking the damn jet. Still playing queen alongside Conner O’Neill. And I’d let her. I sent Domonic and Hayden to go with her the second I heard. Not because I didn’t trust Conner. I didn’t. But more because… I needed her protected. Even now. Even after everything. I needed to know she was safe. Maybe that made me weak. Maybe it made me human. I didn’t fucking know anymore. She used to be loyal. Fiercely so. My Ava. Even when she disagreed with me, she stood beside me. Defended me. Protected me from the wolves in my own house but I let one in. Kerry-Anne. The fucking girl my mother had sent, cloaked in charm and innocence. Meant to be a wedge. Meant to be a distraction

AvaI closed the door to the guest room behind me and leaned against it, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Dinner had been… quiet. Comfortable, even. But the moment I stepped away from the table, it all started pressing back in. The silence. The weight. The memory of Nico’s hands on my skin and the blood on the floor and the way my heart had stopped when I realized no one was coming for me. But someone had come. Conner. And now I was in his house, well one of them anyway. Wearing his clothes. Breathing his air like it might hold me together. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at my hands. They were still trembling, just a little. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But I could feel it, like an aftershock. I was free. But I didn’t feel free. I felt unmoored. Like I didn’t belong to anything anymore, not my name, not my marriage, not even myself. I looked toward the side door. The one that connected our rooms. He said I could come to him if I needed to. A

I carried the tray carefully upstairs, balancing coffee, eggs, and bacon on mismatched ceramic. I hadn’t bothered to plate it like a housewife trying to impress her husband. No garnish. No folded napkins. Just food, hot, simple, honest. Conner was sitting up in bed, shirtless, dark hair tousled, rubbing sleep from his eyes as I stepped in.“Well, aren’t you a sight,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “I was comin’ down in a moment anyway, love.”“I know,” I said, setting the tray on the nightstand beside him. “But I wanted to talk to you. Alone. Before certain people got involved in the day.”His brow lifted slightly, curiosity and concern both blooming in those pale eyes. He reached for the coffee first, blowing across the surface before taking a sip.“Go on then,” he said softly. “What’s on your mind?”I sat at the edge of the bed, back straight, fingers clasped tightly in my lap to keep them from trembling.“I want to destroy Nico Moretti,” I said, steady as stone. “Not just hur