All Chapters of blood and vows : Chapter 11
- Chapter 20
46 chapters
THE DEVIL’S DEBT
The mansion was wrapped in an eerie quiet, the kind that didn’t soothe but suffocated. Night had fallen hours ago, yet no one inside the walls dared to sleep. Every guard was awake. Every gun was loaded. Every light stayed on. Fear moved through the air like smoke, curling into corners and shadows.Isabella felt it most.She sat beside the window of the guest room Lorenzo had moved her into—a room closer to his office, closer to his guards, closer to him. Her fingers trembled as she traced the outline of the bruises on her wrists. They stung when she pressed them, but the pain reminded her she was alive.Alive… even though Marco wanted her dead.Or worse.Her breath wavered. She hugged her knees tightly to her chest, staring at the moon outside. The forest beyond the mansion swayed with the wind, but in her mind, she heard footsteps… Marco’s footsteps. She heard the scrape of rope against wood. His chilling laugh. The whisper he left her with:“Lorenzo will bleed for this.”A shudder
THE WOLVES UNLEASHED
The sky was still bruised with the last traces of night when Lorenzo De Luca stepped into the courtyard, the cold morning air biting at his skin. Dozens of men stood before him—armed, silent, waiting. Engines idled in the background like hungry beasts ready to tear the city apart.Lorenzo’s presence was enough to quiet even the wind.He wore the same black shirt from the night before, though someone had stitched the torn sleeve. A dark coat rested on his shoulders, the collar turned up, casting a shadow across his jaw. He looked like a king stepping into battle… or a wolf who had already decided who would die by sunrise.Lucio approached him. “The teams are in position.”Lorenzo didn’t nod. He simply scanned the faces of his men—old soldiers, loyal guards, fighters trained from the shadows of his father’s empire. Every one of them would die for him. And all of them knew he might die today.“Marco wants a war?” Lorenzo said, voice steady, chilling, final.“Yes, boss,” Lucio answered.“
WHEN BLOOD CALLS BLOOD
The sun had barely risen above the treeline when the De Luca mansion erupted into motion again. Footsteps echoed in the corridors, radios crackled with urgent static, and engines roared to life outside. The world was waking… but Lorenzo De Luca had not slept.He was still in the same clothes he had worn the night before, blood drying on his sleeves, shadows carved deep beneath his eyes. But his mind was awake—sharper than ever. Every nerve, every instinct, every breath was anchored to one truth:Marco wasn’t finished.Marco never stopped.And Marco wanted Isabella.Lorenzo stepped out into the hall just as Lucio approached from the staircase, a folder tucked under his arm.“You’re up?” Lucio asked.“I never went to sleep.” Lorenzo’s voice was gravel—not tired, but dangerous.Lucio swallowed. “We got intel from one of the men you… questioned.”Lorenzo gave him a cold, silent look.Lucio quickly corrected himself. “Interrogated. Professionally.”Lorenzo’s jaw twitched. “Show me.”They w
THE HUNTING LODGE MASSACRE
The mountains rose like jagged teeth against the night, their shadows swallowing the narrow road that wound toward Marco’s hideout. Snow fell in thin, relentless sheets, turning the forest into a white graveyard. Every tree looked like a watching figure. Every shift of wind sounded like a warning.But Lorenzo did not slow down.The black SUV growled beneath him as he pushed it harder, engine screaming against the climb. His hands strangled the steering wheel, knuckles bone-white. He had driven for hours, but it felt like minutes—time had collapsed into a single thought:Isabella.Alive.Waiting for me.Terrified.Alone.His chest burned with every breath, as though his heart was fighting through ice and fire at once.Lucio’s voice crackled through the comms behind him.“Boss, we’re ten minutes behind you—don’t go in alone.”Lorenzo didn’t respond.A moment later:“Lorenzo, I swear—if you go in without backup—”He turned the radio off.There was no backup for what he intended to do.No
THE LAST BROTHER
The snowstorm swallowed the world whole.Wind ripped through the trees with a feral scream, carrying the scent of blood—Lorenzo’s blood—across the mountains. The forest seemed alive, breathing in ragged gasps as if it knew death was moving through its heart.Marco ran.His vision blurred, his side drenched red, breath slicing through frost like broken glass. The cold gnawed at him, ate him alive, but he didn’t stop. Rage kept him upright. Hatred kept his pulse pumping.Love—twisted, poisoned, delusional—kept him fighting.“Lorenzo…” he growled into the storm. “Still playing hero. Still stealing what’s mine.”Branches whipped his face as he stumbled deeper into the dark.Behind him, distant shouts echoed through the trees.De Luca soldiers.Hunting him.But he wasn’t running from them.He was leading them.---Inside the LodgeLorenzo’s vision faded in and out like a dying bulb.The bullet had gone deep. Too deep.He leaned heavily against Isabella as Lucio wrapped a cloth around his w
THE BLOOD OATH
Snow drifted through the ruined courtyard like ashes from a dying world.The storm had quieted, but the silence it left behind was heavier than thunder. Every sound seemed swallowed by grief. Every breath tasted like loss.Isabella knelt in the snow, her hands stained with Lorenzo’s dried blood, her clothes torn, her face streaked with sorrow. But her eyes—her eyes were fire.Because Marco wasn’t dead.Not yet.And she would not let the man who murdered Lorenzo disappear into the shadows.Lucio approached quietly, his expression a hollow echo of everything broken inside him.“He’s in the warehouse,” Lucio said. “Cornered. Bleeding out. But still fighting.”Isabella didn’t move.Lucio knelt beside her. “Isabella… I know you want to—”She lifted her head slowly.Her voice was low. Steady. Deadly.“I’m going with you.”Lucio inhaled sharply. “You’re exhausted. You haven’t slept, you haven’t eaten—”“You think I care?” she whispered. “Marco killed the man I love.”Lucio’s jaw tensed.“He
THE MAN WHO SHOULDN’T BE ALIVE
The night was bone–deep cold, the kind that clung to skin and refused to let go.Snow fell in thick, silent sheets as Lucio and Isabella stepped out of the warehouse, leaving behind the corpse of a man who had destroyed half a kingdom.But the cold wasn’t what made Isabella shiver.It was the feeling—a strange, sharp pulse inside her chest.Like a whisper.Like a warning.Like she was being watched.Lucio stumbled slightly, pressing a hand to his bleeding shoulder.“You’re hurt,” Isabella said, reaching toward him.“Just a scratch.” Lucio forced a weak smirk. “I’ve had worse… usually from Lorenzo yelling at me.”Her heart twisted.Lorenzo.His name alone felt like a wound.The snow absorbed her tears before they could fall.“We need to get you stitched up,” she said.“We need to get you safe,” Lucio countered.He reached for the SUV door—Stopped.Went pale.“Lucio?” Isabella whispered.He raised a hand, signaling her to stay still.But she saw it too.Footprints.Fresh footprints.L
THE SAFEHOUSE
The drive through the storm was a blur of headlights, blood-soaked snow, and the uneven rhythm of Lorenzo’s fading breaths.Isabella held him the entire way—his head against her shoulder,his hand locked in hers,her fingers pressed desperately against the wound in his side.“Stay with me,” she whispered again and again.“Lorenzo, stay with me.”But his eyes stayed closed.Lucio drove like a man possessed, tires skidding over icy turns, engine roaring through the dead night.Every few seconds, he checked the rearview mirror—watching Isabella,watching Lorenzo,watching the shadows behind them like something might rise from the snow and follow.Isabella didn’t notice the road.She didn’t notice the cold.She didn’t notice her own exhaustion.She noticed only him.His skin was cold.Too cold.His breaths too shallow.His pulse too slow beneath her trembling fingers.She brushed his hair away from his forehead, whispering shakily:“You’re not allowed to die again. Do you hear me? Once
THE HEART THAT WON’T STOP
Silence.Terrifying, unnatural, absolute silence.It wasn’t the silence of peace— it was the silence of a body that had stopped fighting.Lorenzo lay motionless on the couch, eyes shut, lips parted, skin pale and cold as winter marble.Isabella’s scream ripped through the safehouse.“LORENZO! Lorenzo—NO—Lorenzo, wake up!”She shook him violently, her tears falling onto his still face.Lucio was already moving— grabbing equipment, checking his pulse, slamming his palm against the table in panic.“Come on… come on… don’t you dare do this to me—”Isabella pressed her ear to Lorenzo’s chest.Nothing.No heartbeat.Her world shattered.“Lucio—HE’S NOT BREATHING!”Lucio spun, eyes wide with terror he couldn’t hide anymore.“Move—Isabella, move, I need to get to him—”She didn’t move.Her hands were on Lorenzo’s face, her tears on his shirt, her entire heart breaking in real time.“Please…” she whispered, voice cracking like fractured ice.“Please don’t take him from me.”Lucio grabbed her s
THE MAN WHO CAME BACK WRONG
Lorenzo didn’t sleep.Not the way humans slept.His body lay still on the couch, stitched and bandaged, chest rising and falling with slow precision—but his mind was awake, burning, tearing through memories like claws through flesh.Pain didn’t come in waves anymore.It lived in him.Permanent. Molten. Alive.Every nerve screamed, yet somehow… obeyed.Isabella noticed first.She sat beside him all night, refusing to leave, refusing to blink for too long. Her fingers traced circles on his wrist, counting heartbeats, grounding herself in the fact that he was still here.But something was different.His pulse wasn’t weak.It was strong.Too strong.Steady. Relentless. Like a war drum beneath his skin.When dawn finally bled pale light through the curtains, Lorenzo opened his eyes.Fully.Sharp. Focused. Predatory.Isabella gasped softly. “Lorenzo…?”He turned his head toward her with unnatural smoothness, eyes locking onto her face as if she were the only thing in the world.There was no