Semua Bab The Ring Went to Her, My Blood Outranks Them Both: Bab 1 - Bab 9

Killian froze for a second.Then, tired pity filled his eyes.“Valeria, stop. I know I’m a bastard for hiding this, for marrying someone else. But there are no ‘what ifs’ right now. Only that Jersey new-money trash has the men I need.”He sighed, like he was calming down a child.“You’re a painter from Brooklyn. A normal girl. You don’t even know how to take the safety off a gun. How could you help me?”I looked around the apartment we’d painted together. At the easel he’d built for me in the corner.“For the baby,” I whispered, my eyes red, my voice trembling. “Please. Call off the wedding.”I stared at him, searching his face.If he just nodded, I would pretend none of this ever happened.But Killian’s lips pressed into a thin line. He wouldn’t budge.“I made a blood oath to her father. Guns for a ring.”“And what about me?! What about our baby?!” I was shaking, hysterical.He stepped forward, grabbing my face. He wiped my tears away with his thumb before kissing me hard.“I AM prote

When I woke up, I’d bitten my lip raw.The empty, aching hollowness in my stomach was a cold confirmation.The baby was gone.The clinic smelled of antiseptic. Killian wasn’t there.I heard a nurse whispering in the hall. The Russo Boss had been hauled in front of the Commission for an emergency hearing the second he got clear.He’d killed my baby with his so-called protection, then left me alone in this back-alley clinic to go save his own ass.The door was kicked open.Bianca walked in, wearing a red dress and holding a glass of champagne.“Don’t wait up,” she said, stopping by my bed. “He’s busy explaining this little mess to a bunch of old men. He doesn’t have time for you.”I looked at her. I was too weak from blood loss to even be angry.“You leaked the safe house location,” I said, my voice faint.Bianca laughed.“Of course. It’s the most secure location in the state. If I didn’t sell the coordinates to his rivals, how else would Killian go crazy and shove you into that cramped

St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Silent.Bianca smiled, her chin held high and arrogant.The old New York dons, all in their custom suits, held their breath. They turned in their pews.They couldn’t believe it. Some backwater crew from Jersey had actually gotten the daughter of the Don. The man above Cosa Nostra itself.My Louboutins hit the red carpet.This dress was a statement. A black, Sicilian funeral gown. Custom-made for today.The V-neck plunged low, showing the blood-red diamond just below my collarbone.It caught the light from the stained-glass windows. A cold, bloody glint.I raised a hand. Black velvet gloves. A flick of the wrist."Stand down."Dozens of the High Council’s Made men lowered their rifles.Whispers erupted through the crowd."The Don's only daughter… She actually came.""How the hell did those Jersey hicks pull this off?"I ignored them. Walked straight for the altar.The simple wedding band in Killian's hand clattered to the marble floor.The color drained from his

His hand was still on my face. It hurt.I tried to say something clever. The words wouldn't come.Tears I didn't know I had. They finally came.Three years of pain, fear, and hopelessness. The taste of blood I'd swallowed alone in that clinic. It all poured out.I collapsed into his arms. Crying like a child.His embrace smelled the same. Cuban cigars and sandalwood.His hand patted my back. A suppressed tremor in his touch."You're thin," he said, his voice hoarse. "So thin I almost don't recognize you."I couldn't breathe. My nails dug into the back of his expensive suit."My grandchild?" His voice turned cold. It held the kind of bloody promise that terrified New York's underworld. "That bastard. I'm going to teach him what happens when you kill my grandchild."He pushed me away. Turned to his Capo."Get the word to the High Council. Strip the Russo family of all business on the East Coast. Put Killian in cement shoes. Drop him in the Hudson.""Wait."I grabbed the cigar cutter pinn

The sound of waves crashing on rocks. The first thing I heard every morning.Three months after Killian left, my father finally agreed to let me move out."I had the cliff house in Montauk completely redone," he said, standing by the helicopter. "The security team is the best in the family. Snipers on the perimeter, 24/7."I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek. "Papa, I need my own life."He sighed. The pain in his eyes was stronger than his reluctance. "At least let me visit you every week.""Every week," I promised with a smile.The villa was on a cliff, ocean on three sides.I turned the garage into a studio. The whole wall was bulletproof glass, looking out at the tide.Every morning, I sat at my easel and painted to the sound of the waves. I worked until the sunset turned the sky orange.My father came by helicopter every month. He brought me rare gifts and stayed for dinner.Life slowed down. It was peaceful. It almost made me forget the blood and betrayal.Until that evening.