All Chapters of THE CURSED NECKLACE: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Roberto hated hospitals.Not because of blood.Or death.Or suffering.Those things followed him naturally.Roberto hated hospitals because they reminded him that even powerful men could lose things.And right now, sitting inside the backseat of his car speeding toward the estate while pain tore violently through the bond—He felt dangerously close to losing control.His jaw tightened as another sharp pulse ripped through his chest.“Elena…”The driver glanced nervously into the mirror but wisely said nothing.Because Roberto looked murderous.The business meeting from earlier replayed irritably in his mind.Board members discussing investments.Profits.Expansion.Normally Roberto dominated rooms effortlessly.But today his thoughts drifted constantly.To Elena.To waking beside her.To the way she unconsciously curled against his bare chest during the night.And worse—To the violin.Roberto stared darkly out the window.Why the hell had he bought her that?He didn’t buy gifts.Espe

Dark silk sheets tangled around Elena’s legs as consciousness returned slowly.For several seconds she remained still beneath the heavy blankets, disoriented by the unfamiliar softness beneath her body.Then the scent hit her.Cedarwood.Smoke.Her eyes snapped open immediately.The bedroom was dimly lit by gray morning light spilling through massive floor-to-ceiling windows. Black marble walls reflected faint shadows while dark red curtains swayed softly beside the balcony doors.Roberto’s room.Elena pushed herself upright quickly.The movement sent pain through her head instantly.Fragments of memory flashed violently through her mind.The violin.The pain.The necklace glowing red.That thing.A cloaked figure soaked in blood.Elena’s breathing quickened immediately.Was it real?Or had she imagined everything?Her gaze lifted—And landed on Roberto.He stood near the windows with his back facing her, one hand resting lazily inside his pocket while the other held a cigarette betwe

Roberto had not slept.He didn’t even try to.The entire Francesco estate felt suffocatingly tense as guards moved through the halls in silence, terrified of attracting his attention.Three men had already been beaten by him for losing Elena’s trail.Another had been fired on the spot.Still—No one could find her.No matter how hard they tried.Roberto stood inside his study with one hand braced against the edge of his desk while rain hammered violently against the tall windows behind him.The bond still pulsed faintly beneath his ribs.Alive.She was alive.But farther now.Too far.His jaw tightened.A knock sounded against the door.“Enter.”One of his men stepped inside cautiously. “Your father has arrived.”Every muscle in Roberto’s body went rigid.Of course he had.News traveled fast in their world.Especially bad news.It was no surprise his father had heard it.Roberto grabbed his coat calmly before heading toward the lower floor.The moment he entered the main sitting room,

Roberto had exhausted every ordinary option he could think of.His guards searched the villages.The Ports.Roads.The Safe houses.Every inch of Francesco territory had been turned upside down within forty-eight hours in a desperate search for her.Still—nothing.The bond remained unstable.Weak.Like Elena was too far away.Or frightened.Every time that feeling pulsed through his chest, something violent answered inside him.Mine.Protect her.Find her.It was becoming unbearable.By midnight Roberto finally had enough and descended beneath the estate.Alone.The underground corridor stretched endlessly beneath the mansion, lit only by dim wall torches that flickered against cold ancient stone.Only Few people knew these tunnels existed.Even fewer knew what waited at the end.Roberto stopped before a massive iron door carved with symbols older than the Francesco bloodline itself.For several seconds he simply stared at it.Jaw tight.Expression dark.He did not want to do this.B

Roberto had never looked human when angry.Never acted like one either when he was furious.Tonight he looked worse. His eyes were dark and his face was in a constant state of anger.It rained again. Droplets of rain fell from the leaves of the trees in the courtyard. The weather was dark and cloudy.Like it knew the mayhem happening in the Francesco estate.The underground armory echoed with the metallic sound of weapons being loaded while Francesco soldiers prepared large trucks aboveground.Black shirts.Bulletproof vests.Silver weapons were laid neatly across long steel tables.Chaos wrapped in discipline.Roberto stood at the center of it all fastening a holster beneath his jacket with cold precise movements.His face remained unreadable.But his eyes—His eyes looked murderous.“We leave in ten minutes,” he said calmly.No one questioned him.Not after the mirror.Not after finding him half-dead beneath it.His right-hand man, Luca, approached cautiously.“You’re certain she’s