Semua Bab Vows of Ruin: Til vengeance do us part : Bab 1 - Bab 9

CARMELA’S POVEveryone thinks grief has made me fragile. I see them stare at me, pity in their eyes and their hushed whispers about my sister's death. Papa looks at me like I might kill myself the next day.Perfect. Let them think that way.Because while they've been pitying me, I've been planning. Gabriele Conti killed Elena–maybe not with his hands, but she died under his care. As the wife of the Don. How ironic.And now I'm going to make him pay. I'm not going to kill him. It's too merciful. I'm going to marry him. Destroy him directly from inside. Make him trust me, need me, love me maybe. And then I'm going to ruin everything he has built.I knelt at Elena's grave, the marble cold even through my dress. Six months, and the flowers people left had long since died. Like her. Like everything she touched in that world."He couldn't protect you." My voice cracked on the words. "One job, Elena. He had one fucking job as Don, and you're dead."The rage was better than the grief. Cleane

CARMELA'S POV “He said yes.”The arguments I had carefully prepared in case it was needed died instantly on my tongue. The backup plans I'd rehearsed, the counterpoints I'd practiced—useless."He what?""Gabriele agreed. Immediately, actually." Papa's eyes were too knowing. "He didn't even ask for time to think about it."Something cold slithered down my spine. This was too easy. Men like Gabriele Conti didn't make snap decisions, especially about marriage to his dead wife's sister.“He…did he ask why?”“He knows why.” Father pinned me with a pointed look. “The question is whether you know exactly what you're doing.”“I know what—”“Do you?” He stood, walking to his whiskey table.“Gabriele didn't argue. Even though he knew what you planned to gain from this marriage. What do you think that means?”And then it dawned on me. He knows. He knows I plan to kill him. If he knows, then why did he agree?Guilt? Self-destruction? Some kind of trap?It doesn't matter. I'm committed now. The w

GABRIELE'S POV Carmela emerged in a silk nightgown—dark purple, almost black. There was nothing seductive about it, but the way it draped over her body…Fuck. She'd taken down her hair. It fell in long, dark waves past her shoulders. No makeup. Just her bare face. And for one gut-wrenching second, I saw Elena. Same bone structure. Same wide, dark eyes. Same defiant tilt of the chin when she was angry with me.But Elena never looked at me with murder in her eyes.She saw me staring and crossed her arms—a barrier between us. Her jaw set. Every line of her body screamed stay away, though we both knew the bed we'd share made that impossible."What?" Her voice sounded defensive and hostile.I looked away and drained my glass."Take whatever side you want," I said, unbuttoning my shirt."I'll take the couch.""No.""Excuse me?"I didn't repeat myself. Just continued undressing—shirt, belt, trousers. Down to boxers and undershirt because I was too tired for modesty and too indifferent to

CARMELA'S POV I woke up alone. Gabriele's side of the bed was empty. Last night conversation replayed in my mind as I showered and got dressed. He claimed that Elena was murdered. He had been investigating the murder and he had evidence. He was going to show me “proof” today.This was a manipulation. It had to be.I chose a black dress that exuded a professional vibe, pulled my hair back in a sleek bun, and applied little mascara and powder. The image in the mirror looked like someone who commanded respect. Someone who was not to be underestimated.Perfect. That's who I am.I made my way through the mansion, noting the guards rotations, cameras and their angles, all the things Papa had taught me to observe.I heard male voices coming from Gabriele's office down the hall. I moved closer, trying to get what they were saying.“–The Russians have been quiet for three weeks now. Too quiet.” That was Gabriele's voice. Authoritative and cold. Nothing like the broken man from last night.“M

CARMELA'S POV Over the week, I silently took notes, memorizing Marco's schedule. How long his daily meetings lasted, when he left for port supervisions, the number of his guards and their rotations.Today, he had a meeting with the port supervisors that was going to last for an hour. One hour was enough time to search his office properly, and find the financial records Gabriele had mentioned in his notes. Today, I would get real proof and not just baseless suspicions.I was getting ready for the break-in when Gabriele entered the room.“Good. You're up.” He barely glanced at me, already moving to the closet. “We leave in twenty minutes.”I stopped. “Where are we going?”“The Castellano exhibition. It's a gallery opening.” He checked his wristwatch. “We need to be there by seven.”“I have plans—”“Cancel them.”“I wasn't asking for permission—”“Neither was I.” He finally looked at me with the same look he wore in meetings. His Don look. The look that expected obedience without questi