Bound by Vows and Vendetta
Message: “Hope you loved my little gift.”
Victor stared at it.
His knuckles tightened.
He typed back:
“Go to hell, Giovanni. I refuse to be a pawn in your stupid game.”
Then he deleted the message, crushed the phone in his fist, and tossed it aside.
“No more games,” he muttered. “No more pawns.”
He turned to his guards, eyes cold as ice. “Summon every loyal family head. Giovanni wants a war? He just declared one.”
And as the moon cast a pale glow over the Valente estate, Victor swore—on his daughter's blood, on his family’s legacy—that he would not rest until Giovanni bled for what he’d done.