Lahat ng Kabanata ng BLOOD TIE AND BROKEN VOWS : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

The Rossi villa was cloaked in tension so thick it suffocated. Every corridor whispered with secrets, every room heavy with the scent of cigars and iron resolve. Adriana moved through it like a phantom, skirts whispering against marble floors, her heart pounding with an unshakable dread.Her father had summoned the inner circle. That alone was enough to knot her stomach.In the grand dining hall, Enzo Rossi sat at the head of the long mahogany table, his cane propped beside him, his dark suit impeccable. Marco lounged to his right, his gaze sharp, protective, already simmering with anger at the blood spilled in their home. Isabella sat opposite him, her expression a mask of serene poise, though her eyes glinted with something Adriana could not name—something dangerous.Adriana took her seat at her father’s left, her throat tight.Enzo’s voice cut the silence. “The Moretti boy humiliated us in our own house. He shed Rossi blood under our roof. That cannot go unanswered.”Marco’s fist s

The palazzo glittered that night as though the blood spilled days earlier had been nothing but a bad dream. Crystal chandeliers spilled golden light across polished marble; the scent of roses and expensive cigars mingled in the air. The Rossi family had opened their doors to Naples’ elite to prove a point: they were unbroken, untouchable, still the heart of the city’s power.Adriana wore silk the color of midnight, her throat heavy with diamonds that felt more like chains. Every step she took into the grand ballroom echoed with the weight of her father’s command: You will marry Luca Bianchi.Her stomach twisted as Luca’s hand found her waist. He was handsome in a way that soured with every word from his mouth, his grin wide, his laugh too loud. His palm pressed against her lower back with the entitled weight of ownership.“You’ll make a fine wife,” he murmured, his breath sour with wine. “Together we’ll tame Naples.”Her lips curved into the polite smile she had perfected, but inside

The morning light was cruel.Adriana sat before her mirror, her hair being braided by a servant whose hands trembled as though she, too, sensed the storm brewing. Her lips still tingled from Damian’s kiss, her body aching with the memory of it. Every stolen heartbeat replayed in her mind, and yet each recollection only deepened her dread.Because the kiss had not just been passion—it had been war.The door creaked open. Isabella swept in, draped in pale silk, her beauty soft, her eyes sharp. She dismissed the servant with a flick of her hand.“You didn’t sleep,” Isabella murmured, circling her like a predator.Adriana stiffened. “Neither did you, it seems.”Their gazes met in the mirror, reflections locked in silent combat. Isabella’s lips curved. “Strange things happen in this villa at night. Shadows moving where they shouldn’t. Windows opening when they should be shut.”Adriana’s chest tightened. “What are you implying?”“Implying?” Isabella leaned close, her breath a whisper agains

The storm lingered in Adriana’s veins long after Damian’s car vanished into the night.She sat in her chamber, fingers tracing the frost-slick windowpane, her reflection pale in the moonlight. She told herself she should feel fury—at his audacity, at his arrogance, at the danger he had dragged to her feet. But beneath the anger pulsed something hotter, darker. Something she couldn’t confess, even to herself.Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him in the rain. The way he had looked at her. The way his words wrapped around her like chains she almost wanted to wear.He should terrify me, she thought. So why do I feel safer in his gaze than in Luca’s touch?---The following day, Enzo tightened the noose. The house was bustling with preparations—flowers ordered, menus discussed, invitations whispered about among allies. Adriana’s wedding to Luca was no longer a distant inevitability; it was breathing down her neck.At breakfast, Luca leaned close, his fingers brushing hers on the tab

The Rossi villa glittered with candlelight that evening, guests moving through the hall with the slow, deliberate grace of predators. The engagement dinner was meant to be a display of unity—Rossi and Bianchi, two dynasties entwining.To Adriana, it felt like a funeral.She wore her mother’s pearls, the dress her father had chosen, her smile a mask carved from porcelain. Luca’s hand rested on the small of her back, a constant reminder of the cage tightening around her.“Smile wider,” he whispered against her ear, his tone smooth but edged with command. “They need to see how happy you are.”Her jaw ached as she obeyed, lips curving while her stomach knotted.Isabella drifted nearby, her laughter like poisoned honey, her gaze never leaving Adriana. Each stolen glance carried a silent message: I know. I can ruin you whenever I choose.The dinner blurred—clinking glasses, murmurs of alliance, Enzo’s booming pride. Adriana moved through it like a ghost, nodding where she must, laughing whe