All Chapters of Whispers of Loyalty: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

AlanaThe estate was quieter than it should have been. Not the oppressive silence that whispered danger, but the kind that pressed against your chest, suffocating in its anticipation. Every shadow felt longer, every flicker of candlelight sharper. I moved through the halls with caution, my heels silent against the marble, my thoughts louder than the world around me.It had been hours since the first wave had attacked the northern corridor, and the adrenaline had worn off just enough for reality to sink in. Bodies had been cleared, blood scrubbed from the floors, yet the scent lingered—a bitter tang that refused to leave, no matter how many candles I lit or sprays of disinfectant I used.I reached the greenhouse, drawn there instinctively. The sunlight streaming through the glass didn’t warm me; it burned, highlighting every pale curve of my skin, every line of tension I couldn’t hide. I touched the edge of a leaf, tracing the veins as if I could find answers there. But there were no a

ZachPower didn’t sit quietly. It hummed in the bones, pulsed like blood in the veins, and tonight, it was alive in the walls of the Vittore estate.Alana had taken the council seat as if she’d been born with it in her hand. Watching her slice through their doubt with nothing but her voice, it should’ve filled me with relief. Instead, it made my chest ache with something I wasn’t ready to name. Pride. Fear. Hunger. All of it tangled together.She wasn’t a doll anymore, not to anyone. Not even to me.I should’ve been happy. But happiness wasn’t a language I spoke anymore. What stirred in me was darker, heavier, and it burned.The corridors outside the chamber were empty now, the marble floors reflecting candlelight. I walked alone, boots echoing like gunshots, my hands still tense from the way they had curled into fists behind her chair. Not because I doubted her, Christ, no. She’d owned that room. But because part of me had wanted to snap Romano’s neck right there when he smirked at h

ZachThe city looked different at night when you knew blood was waiting on the other side of the river.From the balcony outside the war room, I could see the docks in the distance, cranes frozen like skeletal arms against the skyline, the black water of the harbor swallowing moonlight whole. Most people saw commerce, ships, steel containers stacked like children’s blocks. I saw territory. Money. Power. A border drawn in smoke and salt.And I saw a battlefield.Behind me, the war room hummed with restless energy. Gia barked orders into the radio, her sharp voice cutting through static as she coordinated the patrol lines. Niko was a steady presence at her side, his dark humor toned down tonight, though his smirk still lingered when men jumped too quickly at commands. Alana stood over the maps again, her blue eyes narrowed, hand tracing lines of approach like she could carve them into certainty.She was fire and calm all at once, and every time I looked at her I had to remind myself to

ZachThe storm hit that night, hard and unrelenting.Rain lashed against the estate like the sky itself was angry, lightning flashing across the black glass windows in violent bursts. It felt fitting. The air was thick with tension, the kind that crawled beneath your skin and made every heartbeat feel like a countdown.I stood in the war room again, staring down at the map spread across the table. My reflection flickered in the glass, half man, half shadow.Marco’s betrayal wasn’t a wound—it was infection. And if one of ours had turned, there would be others.Gia’s blood was still on my hands, metaphorically and literally. She’d made it through surgery—barely—but seeing her like that, pale and shaking, while Alana gave orders with blood on her own clothes had changed something in me.It wasn’t just anger anymore.It was purpose.The monster inside me wasn’t whispering now; it was planning.⸻The door opened behind me. I didn’t have to turn to know it was Niko. His footsteps were too c

ZachThe explosion was still burning behind my eyes when we hit the highway.The night outside was nothing but streaks of red and smoke, the faint echo of sirens chasing us down the road like ghosts that didn’t know when to die. The gala was gone — another ruin in a city already drowning in them — and all I could see was Alana’s reflection in the window, lit by the fire.She didn’t flinch. Not once.Not when the alarms screamed. Not when the walls shook. Not when the heat from the blast rolled through the courtyard like a wave. She’d run straight for the car, silent, steady, unshaken.It terrified me how much strength she’d found in the chaos.It terrified me because I knew what finding that kind of strength cost.⸻Gia took the backroads. She always did when the world caught fire behind us. Niko sat shotgun, barking updates through the comms, voice tight.“The feeds are gone,” he said. “Everything wiped after the blast. Whoever Gallo’s got working his systems is good. Pro-level encry