Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 51 - Chapitre 60

Gunfire tore through the chapel like thunder.Shattered stained glass rained down around us as masked men in black tactical gear poured through the broken windows and side doors. At least twenty of them. Maybe more.“Get down!” Damien roared, shoving me behind the heavy wooden altar with one arm while drawing the hidden gun from inside his jacket. His other hand pressed against his bandaged side, fresh blood already seeping through the white shirt beneath his suit.I hit the floor hard, dress tearing at the high slit, but I came up with my own gun ready. My heart slammed against my ribs, but my hands were steady, no more shaking, no more fear. Only cold, burning focus.“Stay behind me!” Damien ordered, voice raw with pain and fury. He fired twice. Two attackers dropped near the entrance.“Like hell,” I snapped, rising beside him. I squeezed the trigger. A man aiming at Rico went down with a scream. “We do this together, husband.”Damien shot me a look, half pride, half frustration bef

The message burned behind my eyes even after I deleted it.**“You killed my sister. You took my brother. Now I’m coming for your husband. Sleep well, Isabella. Tomorrow, the real blood war begins.”**I lay awake for hours, Damien’s arm heavy across my waist, his breathing deep and steady beside me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw new shadows, another sibling, another enemy crawling out of my father’s grave to punish me for choosing love over blood.At 4:17 a.m., I slipped out of bed. Damien stirred but didn’t wake. I pulled on one of his black shirts and padded barefoot to the window, staring out at the dark river. The safe house felt smaller tonight. The walls pressed in.“You should be sleeping.”Damien’s rough voice made me jump. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, shirtless, bandages stark white against his skin. He looked like hell, but the fire in his eyes was back.“You’re supposed to be resting,” I said, walking over to him.He caught me around the waist and

The video ended, but Valeria’s smile stayed burned into my mind like a brand.I stood frozen in the middle of the room, phone still in my hand, the silence after her threat thicker than blood. Damien watched me from the bed, his expression dark and unreadable. Rico shifted uncomfortably near the door, waiting for orders.“She’s the last one,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. “The real one, father’s masterpiece.”Damien pushed himself up against the pillows, ignoring the pain that flashed across his face. “Then we treat her like the final boss she thinks she is. No more half-measures.”I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, taking his hand. His fingers were warm, strong, alive. “She wants you, specifically. She said she’ll cut you apart while I watch.”His thumb brushed over my wedding ring. “Let her try. I’ve survived worse.”“You almost didn’t survive the last time,” I whispered, leaning down to press my forehead against his. “I can’t watch you bleed out again. I

The first week of marriage felt like walking through fire and silk at the same time.I woke up to sunlight filtering through the heavy curtains of the safe house master bedroom, Damien’s arm draped possessively across my waist. His breath was warm against the back of my neck, steady and deep. For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t bleeding. The machines had been removed yesterday. The doctor had finally cleared him for light activity, which in Damien’s language meant he was already planning how to drag me back into the underworld’s games.I turned slowly in his arms, studying his face. The bruises were fading to yellow. The stitches on his side and leg were healing cleanly. But the scars would remain permanent reminders of the war we had barely survived. My fingers traced the newest one on his shoulder, and he stirred.“Morning, wife,” he murmured, voice gravelly with sleep. His grey eyes opened, locking onto mine with that familiar intensity that still made my stomach flip.“Morning,

The phone slipped from my fingers and landed on the silk sheets with a soft thud. Valeria’s voice still echoed in my head like a ghost that refused to stay buried.*“I have a son. He’s coming for you both.”*Damien’s arm tightened around my waist instantly, his body going rigid despite the lingering pain from his wounds. Even half-asleep, he sensed the shift in me.“What is it?” he asked, voice low and sharp, already reaching for the gun he kept under the pillow.I turned in his arms, pressing my forehead against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, strong, but I could feel the tension coiling in his muscles. “Valeria. She’s alive. Or at least… she called. She says she has a son and he’s coming for us.”Damien cursed under his breath, sitting up slowly. The moonlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows cast shadows across the fresh scars on his torso. He looked every bit the Reaper even now, dangerous, unyielding, mine. “She survived the shot?”“Apparently.” I ran a hand through my hair