All Chapters of Whispers of Loyalty: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

ZACHHer skin is warm under my hands, like silk stretched over lightning. She doesn’t speak as I kiss her, just trembles slightly when my lips brush her collarbone. The soft lamp by the bed throws gold across her shoulders, and when I look up at her, there’s something breaking open in her eyes, something deeper than want. She looks like she’s trying to memorize the shape of this moment before it shatters.And maybe that’s what I’m doing too.I’m not rough with her tonight. Not like the other times where everything boiled into desperation and punishment. This is something slower, like we’re trying to crawl inside each other and stay there, untouched by the rest of the world. Her sundress is still bunched at her hips, and the fabric feels like her: soft, too sweet for the mess we’re in. And yet here she is, begging me with every breath to keep going, to love her like it’s the last chance I’ll get.I bury my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. My voice is ragged when I whisp

ZACHI stood at the window of Roman’s old office, watching the sun claw its way out from behind bruised clouds. Alana was still asleep, tucked beneath the sheets in our room, our sanctuary, for as long as we could keep it untouched by the blood that ran beneath this empire.But peace is a fragile illusion.The call came just before dawn. One of ours, Dominic, was found with his mouth sewn shut and his hands twisted backward like some goddamn sick marionette. Gio’s message was clear.You’re bleeding. I see you.And he wasn’t aiming at me. No, this was meant for her. Everything always was. Alana had stepped into power. She’d stood in that room, chin high, daring her father’s men to challenge her. She’d told them she wasn’t asking for loyalty, she was demanding it. And they bent.But with power came the crosshairs.I gripped the edge of the window frame, my knuckles going bone-white. I could still smell her skin on me. Taste her mouth. The way she said “yours, no matter what” was still e

ZACHHer skin still clung to my fingertips like the memory of war.The air in the bedroom was thick, fucking sacred now, carved by every gasp she gave me, by the bruises I kissed into her thighs, by the way her voice broke when she begged me not to stop. The love we made wasn’t soft, not really. It was everything else. Everything we hadn’t said. Everything we’d swallowed. Every fear, every lie, every fucking war we’d carried on our backs. All of it bled out in that room.And she gave herself to me. Completely. Without restraint.That was the part I couldn’t shake. The way her eyes stayed searching for me. The way her body arched like it was made for mine. The way she didn’t just let me in, she wanted me there. Not as a distraction. Not to escape. But to own her. To claim her. To feel powerful.And goddamn, she made me feel powerful.Not just because she said it, but because she lived it. Because behind closed doors, Alana De Rossi didn’t just worship me. She belonged to me. And fuck i

ZACHThe night swallowed our convoy as we pulled into the industrial wasteland that was the freight yard. Rusted metal, flickering lights, and the scent of gasoline formed a perfect backdrop for what we were about to do. This wasn’t a night for blood, it was a message. A warning. A declaration.We weren’t here to kill. We were here to burn.The van doors opened in sequence, silent shadows pouring out. Kade, Luca, and Mateo moved like wolves, quiet, coordinated. I was the last to step out, and the moment my boots hit gravel, the hum in my chest steadied into something sharp and focused. The freight yard stretched out before us in rows of dormant train cars, forgotten crates, and rusted machinery under the broken halo of floodlights. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, the sound swallowed almost immediately by the stillness.This place smelled like dust, iron, and opportunity.“You sure Gio still uses this side for his drop-offs?” Mateo asked, eyes scanning the skeletal towers of s

ZACHThe door clicked shut behind me, sealing off the chaos of the world outside. My fists were still bruised from the fight, my shirt smelled like smoke, and my pulse hadn’t slowed since we left the freight yard. But I was back. Back with her.Alana stood at the edge of the hallway like she’d been waiting for this moment, for me, wrapped in nothing but one of my oversized tees and shadows under her eyes. The moment she saw me, her body swayed slightly forward, like her heart recognized I was alive before her head could process it.I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Words felt too cheap for the war still ringing in my ears.So I went to her.She didn’t wait for me to close the distance — she came to me, arms threading around my waist as I dropped everything I was holding. My forehead pressed into her shoulder as I let myself breathe her in.Her scent, jasmine and something delicate, grounded me more than the silence of the room. I held her tight. Too tight. But she didn’t pull back.“