Lahat ng Kabanata ng Silk and Power(The reborn): Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

A man who thinks he owns the world looks incredibly pathetic when he cannot even lift his own head from a hospital pillow without vomiting blood.The digital heart monitor beside Dante’s bed beeped with a slow, monotonous rhythm that irritated my ears. The morning sun was just starting to pierce through the reinforced glass windows of my recovery wing, casting sharp, clinical lines of light across his pale, sweating face. I stood at the foot of the bed, the heels of my designer shoes clicking rhythmically against the pristine white tile as I scrolled through his neurological charts on my tablet. I had already traded my blood-stained surgical gown for a crisp, tailored white suit that zipped tight at the collar, a visual shield against the ghost of the girl he used to know.A low, guttural groan echoed from the mattress. Dante’s eyelids fluttered open, his dark irises swimming in a sea of broken red capillaries as the heavy sedatives began to lose their grip on his brain. He turned his

The sound of a father's heart breaking is completely silent, but you can see the jagged pieces shattering in the depths of his eyes.Dante remained frozen on his knees, his hands trembling against the polished marble floor as he stared up at Julian. The realization hit him like a physical blow to the chest, completely draining whatever little color had returned to his face. He looked at the boy's thick, dark curls, the sharp cut of his jawline, the defensive posture it was like looking at a miniature ghost of himself."My god..." Dante whispered, his voice shaking so violently it was barely audible over the hum of the crowd. He slowly lifted a hand, reaching his fingers out toward Julian as if the boy were made of fragile glass. "He's... he's mine. Lyra... he's my son, isn't he? You were carrying him when you left..."The entire grand ballroom was suffocatingly quiet. Nobody dared to breathe or move as the city's most feared mafia king discovered the secret he had been denied for five

The iron gates clicked shut behind me with a heavy, final sound. The sound echoed through the rainy valley like the door of a tomb locking out the dead. I stripped off my wet silk robe right there in the marble foyer, letting the expensive fabric pool on the floor like a shed skin. I refused to let a single thread that Dante’s pleading fingers had touched remain on my body. Underneath, my white tailored suit was immaculate—not a single drop of rain had managed to stain the crisp linen. I ran my fingers over the lapel, tracing the faint, familiar pull of the scar hidden beneath my silk shirt. It was my anchor. A reminder of the night the man kneeling in the mud had left me to burn in the wreckage of a car trap while he protected his throne."You handled that beautifully," Silas said, his smooth voice cutting through the quiet hum of the estate's air filtration system. He was leaning against the arched doorway of the library, holding a crystal glass of dark amber whiskey. He had discard

Dante’s roar cut through the sound of the thunder and the crackle of the burning mansion like a physical blow. Standing on the shattered marble landing, I watched the man who had abandoned me five years ago charge into the gunfire. He didn't look like an untouchable underworld king anymore. He looked like a dying beast driven by nothing but survival instinct and raw, primal panic. Every step he took in the pouring rain seemed to drain the remaining strength from his towering frame, his boots slipping on the bloody gravel of the courtyard. Yet, his assault rifle remained steady, tracking the shadows of the Petrov mercenaries moving through the smoke."What is he doing here?" Silas hissed beside me, his thumb flipping the safety off his weapon. His fingers tightened on the grip until his knuckles turned a violent, stark white. "If he thinks he can claim this estate while it’s burning, I will bury him in the ruins myself.""He didn't come for the estate," I whispered, my analytical eyes

The blade of my scalpel caught the flickering emergency light as I sliced into the muscle of Dante’s shoulder. He didn't scream. He only bit down on the thick roll of sterile gauze I had shoved between his teeth, his entire body locking up like rigid iron as I pulled a flattened lead bullet from his flesh.Clink. The bloody bullet rattled into the metal kidney dish."That's the second one," I muttered, wiping the sweat from my own forehead with the sleeve of my ruined silk jacket. The air in the collapsed bunker was thinning rapidly. The oxygen scrubbers were wheezing their final breaths. "One more near the lumbar spine. If I miscalculate by a millimeter, you will never walk again."Dante spat the gauze out, his lips stained with a mixture of saliva and blood. His dark eyes, usually so sharp and predatory, were swimming with a feverish, desperate glaze as he looked up at me from the metal operating table."Do it," he rasped, his voice a broken whisper. "Cut it out. If I die on your ta