Todos los capítulos de The Wrong Vow: Bred by the Mafia Twins: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

The antique grandfather clock in the corner of the master bedroom chimed exactly three times. It was 03:00 hours, the precise, mathematical window of the midnight guard shift rotation.The heavy brass lock on my door clicked open with a quiet, synchronized snap. I did not flinch or alter my posture as the heavy oak panel swung inward.Two identical men stepped into the dim, red-lit room, stopping shoulder-to-shoulder on the threshold. The visual contrast was absolute, a physical split of the exact same lethal DNA.Roman stood on the left, immaculate in a tailored silver suit, emitting the rich scent of cedarwood and espresso. Rocco stood on the right, equipped in black tactical Kevlar, radiating the cold, fresh scent of sandalwood and rain."You both arrived on schedule," I stated, leaning back in my desk chair and folding my arms across my chest."Dante just cleared the primary security hub," Roman reported, his gunmetal eyes executing a rapid scan of my face. "We have exactly ten mi

The static from Dante's radio transmission hung in the corridor like a physical threat. "Dispatch a tactical retrieval team to the rose maze immediately," the radio repeated, the volume sharp and urgent.My pulse spiked to one hundred and forty beats per minute. I threw the master bedroom door open, slipping inside and engaging the deadbolt in a single, fluid motion.Rocco was currently trapped in the maze with a fresh corpse, and Dante’s sweepers were ninety seconds away from his coordinates."Calculate an extraction variable," I whispered, pressing my back flat against the heavy oak door.My eyes darted across the room, locking onto the encrypted tablet resting on my vanity table. I had retained the administrative access codes Dante used to verify the Baltimore logs.I sprinted to the vanity, my fingers flying across the glass screen to boot the localized security network."Accessing main perimeter grid," I muttered, bypassing the initial firewall with the stolen credentials.The sc

I stood at the top of the grand marble staircase, my spine perfectly straight and my expression completely unreadable.Down in the massive foyer, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense, thick with the smell of wet wool and impending violence.Ten heavily armed Commission guards stood in a rigid semi-circle, their hands hovering dangerously close to their tactical holsters.Dante Ricci stood near the base of the stairs, his gunmetal eyes scanning the intruders with lethal calculation.In the center of the room stood Don Carmine, his frail hands resting heavily on his gold-tipped cane."I demand visual confirmation of my nephew, Dante," Carmine rasped, his voice echoing sharply off the marble walls."Don Falcone is currently engaged in classified syndicate logistics, Don Carmine," Dante replied smoothly, maintaining a respectful but firm distance. "He is unavailable for an unscheduled audience.""A Don does not hide behind his underboss when the Commission breaches his gates," Carmine s

The heavy rumble of armored engines vibrated through the floorboards of the master wing.I pressed my hand flat against my lower stomach, forcing my shallow breathing to even out as a sudden wave of morning sickness tightened my throat.Roman was back from Baltimore, twelve hours ahead of schedule.I stepped onto the grand staircase landing, the scent of fresh pine disinfectant and lingering iron copper stinging my nostrils.Down in the foyer, Dante stood near the freshly scrubbed marble, his silver-topped cane resting against his polished leather boot.He looked up, his hawkish grey eyes locking onto mine with a cold, knowing glint."The Don is in his study, Cora," Dante said, his voice smooth and entirely devoid of warmth."He has already received my report regarding your little performance with Don Carmine.""I do not perform, Dante," I replied, keeping my spine perfectly rigid as I descended the stairs."I simply clean up the trash left in this house."I walked past him toward the

The heavy metal latch of the master bedroom door clicked.I scrambled off the mattress, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood as my heart rate spiked.The faint, unmistakable scent of Rocco’s sandalwood oil still lingered in the air, warm and damning.If Roman caught even a whisper of his brother's signature scent on my skin, we were all dead before sunrise.I grabbed a small amber vial of concentrated lavender oil from the back of my vanity.My hands trembled as I uncorked it, pouring the thick purple liquid directly onto my palms.I rubbed it violently over my collarbone, my neck, and the silk sheets, the heavy floral scent burning my nostrils.I threw the empty vial into the laundry chute and tied my black robe tight around my waist just as the heavy oak door swung open.Roman stepped into the bedroom, his eyes bloodshot and his jaw set in a hard, dangerous line."You're awake," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp."Your security drills make it impossible to sleep," I snapped,