El Lado Dulce De La Traición นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The fact that he had turned against me, against his own capo, filled me with an indescribable rage. Betrayal was a venom that seeped into the core of my being, festering and fuelling my determination to bring them all down. I paced the room, my footsteps echoing with anger. How could De Lucchi join forces with Emiliano and the Russians? The weight of their treachery weighed heavily upon me. I had always known that not everyone in the family held unwavering loyalty, but to see it manifested in such a devastating manner left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"I've been looking for her for eight years! Every lead goes nowhere! Every source lies! This was the first real location I've gotten!" "A location you got by agreeing to betray us." Dominic looked at me. "You still want to trust her? Still think she's on our side?" I looked at Lila. At the tears. At the desperation. At the Silver Claw markings visible on her neck. "I think she's desperate. There's a difference between being a traitor and being desperate." "Desperation leads to betrayal!" "Not always." Killian moved beside Lila. "Sometimes desperation leads to bad choices that people regret."

She loved him, or maybe she only believed she did because it was easier than fearing him. “What you stole from Lucian for me, it’s working wonders.” He murmured, his hand brushed a strand of curls away from her face. “That chip is the best thing to happen to us, very soon the De Rossi territories would fall like Dominos. He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on her shoulder, “Dios bendiga a la traidora, Mi vida.” (God bless the traitor, My life) Finally, a small smile curled on her lips but yet her heart thudded painfully.

I didn’t even know what emotion was consuming me anymore. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. Or rage so deep it was turning my blood cold. “They treat me well,” I said softly. And that part was true. “But there is always someone who cannot stand another person’s happiness.” I opened my eyes again. They felt strange. Too clear. Like still water moments before it shattered. “There is always someone willing to stab you in the back,” I whispered. “And somehow… it always comes from the person you trusted most.” The healer’s face changed slightly.

Lucas bent, scooping up the pistol, then slid it across the table out of reach. I rolled my chair forward, slow, deliberate, letting the faint squeal of rubber on tile grind into De Cruz’s ears. His eyes darted to me, wide, feral, like a rat with its back broken. “You were always weak,” I said quietly, my tone not needing to rise. Weak men always hear. “But weakness is not a crime, De Cruz. Betrayal is.” He tried to shake his head, tried to speak, but his mouth only managed broken sounds…pleas choked by spit and terror.

The cruelty was so precise, so surgical, it took my breath away. This wasn't the Sophia I knew. The Sophia I knew was ambition and sharp edges, but not this patient, psychological butchery. "You're wondering about me," she said, reading the silence. "When did I turn? The truth is, I was never on your side, Liam. Not really. My loyalty was always to the highest bidder. And to the most powerful vision. You offered money. Carlo offered a legacy. A role in rewriting history. You see me as a traitor. I see myself as an artist. The forgery was just the canvas. Your broken heart is a masterpiece."

“Loyalty?” He nodded, his dark eyes locked on hers. “Yes. Loyalty. Do you know what betrayal looks like? It’s not always a knife in your back. Sometimes it’s a deal your rival makes behind your father’s name. Sometimes it’s a smile at the table while they poison your food. And sometimes—” he pointed toward the cages, his finger steady, “—it’s raising the children of the men who tried to wipe out your family, letting them grow strong enough to finish what their fathers started.”

“He’s on a plane back from Lithuania. He found something in Svetlana’s hideout. Photos. Schedules. Routines. Surveillance all on both Sareena and Sophia Morelli.” My heart drops. “But it’s worse than that,” he continues. “He found signs that some of our own, both from the Familia and the Camorra. They have flipped. They’re following someone they call The Traitor.” I can’t move. “One word kept showing up again and again. Written in the margins, beside names, codes, maps…” “Predátel,” he says. “The Traitor.” Silence settles like a fog. Only the espresso machine hums in the background.

My fingers curled around the handle of a blade that was long, slender, honed to a sadistic point. I lifted it slowly, letting the overhead light catch the edge, letting him see every detail. His breathing hitched, eyes darting wildly between my hand and my face. I smiled. “You know why betrayal stings the most?” I asked, dragging the tip lightly across his cheek. A stream of blood dripped instantly, sliding down the curve of his jaw. He flinched, a strangled sound catching in his throat. “It’s because it always comes from someone I trust.” His pleas rose into unstable wave of sobs, words spilling over themselves, but I didn’t hear them.

Again, Bastian nodded. "Of course. When you weren't with Nicole, I was the one sleeping with her until morning. It's a lie if both of us didn't enjoy it. Especially since Nicole always complained when she was with you, she was rarely satisfied. And when she's with me, Nicole feels pleasure she didn't get from you, Alex." Alex's hand clenched tightly. He was infuriated upon realizing he had been played. "I didn't mean to betray your trust," Bastian tried to explain. "I did all this just for fun. There were no feelings involved here."