10- Not Friendly People

Dante's POV "The death of Mr. Armani was not taken lightly by House Nocturne. They believe you did it out of greed for their eastern territories," Luca said, his voice cutting through the haze of my thoughts. I didn't look up from the glass in my hand. Whiskey. Always whiskey these days. The amber liquid caught the morning light streaming through the penthouse windows, turning it gold. Like her hair. She was in my thoughts again. I never sleep with the nuns, I make them see their inner side that they cover with holiness, as if they are free from sin. I let them sit with realization and shame for being a disgrace for their so called father in heaven. And I had done the same last night. But something about that silly martyr refused to leave my head. She clung to my mind like a leech. Was it her voice? The way she had taunted me? Her scent? I had washed my hands more than ten times today but still I can smell her, feel her, see her on that table asking me if I was scared to tou

Lost In The Cold

Celeste's POVThe first thing I felt against my skin was cold.Not the biting cold of the underground club or the stone floors of the convent, but a creeping, bone-deep chill that told me I had been unconscious long enough for my body to forget warmth entirely.Something rough and thin covered me, a cloth, barely enough to count as covering, and beneath it, I was naked.I didn't move immediately. I lay still, blinking my eyes at the gray morning light filtering through tinted car windows while my brain tried to assemble itself into something that wasn't a heap of grogginess. The car.I was in a car.I groaned, my body ached in all the terrible places. My nipples burned with a slight sensitivity as I moved, the cold air made it worse. I remembered the club. The amber lights and the pulsing music and the man with storm-gray eyes who had watched me and destroyed me too. I remembered the glass he'd pressed into my hands, the burn of whatever was in it, the way the edges of the world h

12- A Selfish Person

I knew that voice before I even looked up.Beatrice stood in the doorway with her arms folded, taking in the full picture of me on the floor with the slow satisfaction of someone who had been waiting a long time for exactly this moment. Behind her, Margaret hovered in the corridor, her green eyes wide, one hand pressed to her mouth."Margaret, you…are here." My voice came out cracked and small. "Margaret, can you—""Look at her." Beatrice laughed, the sound bright and sharp as breaking glass. "She came back and she couldn't even make it to her room. On the floor like a dog." She tilted her head. "Was it worth it, Celeste? All that holiness, all those prayers, all that suffering you loved to perform for everyone — and you ended up exactly here.""Please." I hated how weak the word sounded. I hated that I meant it. "I am already going through a lot mentally, just let me–""Let you what?" Beatrice stepped closer, her shoe nudging my side. Touching me as if I was dirt. Well I was dirt. I

13- Get It Done

Beatrice was right. I am not holy, neither am I a martyr. I told myself that. I believed I was.But come to think of it, if it was Margaret in these shoes would I have cared? Or would I have acted just like her. Hidden, ashamed, looking away and never meeting her eyes.No. I shook my head as I was being pulled by the guards to the east wing.No. I would have cared.I would have. I would have fought. I would have screamed. I would have done something, anything, to stop them from taking her to wherever they were taking me now.Or would I?The question followed me down the stairs, through the narrow corridor that smelled like damp stone from the morning dew. The room was exactly what I had imagined and somehow worse.Small. Cold Stone walls on all sides with iron rings bolted into them at various heights. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly, casting shadows that moved like living things. In the corner sat a wooden stool and a bucket of water. On the opposite wall hung

13- Masks Falls

Mother Superior stood completely still for a moment, the whip hanging loose in her hand."He's here?" she repeated, her voice strange. Not angry. Not pleased. Something else entirely surprise mixed with calculation. "Dante Salvatore came back. Himself. Not an associate. Not a messenger." She turned to look at me, her eyes narrowing. "For you."I didn't answer. I couldn't. My mind was still trying to process what the guard had said.Dante was here.The man who had left me tied and wanting, who had abandoned me on that table, who had apparently been so disappointed that he'd demanded a refund—he was upstairs right now, asking for me.Why?Mother Superior began to pace, the whip tapping against her leg as she thought out loud. "He sends word this morning that he's unsatisfied. That you failed. That he wants compensation." She stopped mid-step, her head tilting. "And then he shows up in person, demanding to see you before t

14- Celeste Anger

Watching Mother Superior being put to her place brought a strange kind of satisfaction to my already grieving heart. Mother Superior's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. The guards exchanged glances. Even Margaret looked stunned, her rehearsed composure cracking just slightly around the edges.I hung there in the chains, not quite believing what I'd just heard."Release her?" Mother Superior repeated, her voice tight. "Mr. Salvatore, I don't think you understand the situation—""I understand perfectly." Dante's tone was glacial. "You have something that belongs to me. I want it back. Now."Mother Superior's jaw clenched. For a moment I thought she might refuse, might pull rank or invoke some rule about convent jurisdiction. But then her eyes flicked to the two guards flanking Dante, to the way his hand rested casually near his jacket where I knew a gun must be hidden, and something in her expression shifted.She turne

The Nun's Vow To The Devil의 모든 챕터: 챕터 11 - 챕터 16

10- Not Friendly People

Lost In The Cold

12- A Selfish Person

13- Get It Done

13- Masks Falls

14- Celeste Anger