Semua Bab The Devil's Vow #1: Crimson Promises: Bab 31 - Bab 40

The invitation arrived in an elegant black envelope, sealed with a wax emblem I didn’t recognize. The moment it was placed in Damian’s hands, I could see his jaw tighten, his grip on the paper firm enough to crumple it slightly. “This is a trap,” he muttered, tossing the letter onto his desk like it was poison. I picked it up, scanning the words. The Moretti family had invited us to a formal gathering, claiming they wanted to discuss potential peace between our families. From what I had learned, the Morettis weren’t the kind to offer peace—they thrived in deception, using carefully woven words as weapons sharper than any knife. Still, something about this intrigued me. Peace was an illusion in this world, but information was power. “We should go,” I said, glancing at Damian. His dark eyes snapped to me, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. “Absolutely not.” “Why not?” I pressed. “If they really wanted us dead, they wouldn’t invite us to a public event. They’d have alr

The moment she walked into the room, I knew she wasn’t just anybody. There was something about her presence—calculated, confident, familiar. Damian had been in the middle of a conversation with Viktor when she entered, but the instant he saw her, his entire body went still. His usually cold expression didn’t change, but his silence said everything. She smirked. “It’s been a while, Damian.” The way she said his name sent a sharp, unwelcome feeling through my chest. Damian didn’t respond right away. He simply studied her, his eyes dark and unreadable. Then, after a long moment, he spoke. “Elena.” The name hit me like a slap. I had no idea who she was. But based on the tension crackling in the air, I knew enough. She wasn’t just some random woman. And I hated that. I wasn’t the jealous type. At least, I never had been. I had never cared enough about someone to feel this sharp, burning irritation that was creeping up my spine. But watching Elena stand there, her ga

As the chaos erupted around me, my instincts took over. A masked man lunged at me with a knife, his movements quick but reckless. I barely had time to think before I sidestepped, grabbing the nearest object—a decorative vase—and smashing it against his head. He stumbled, but another attacker was already closing in. Heart pounding, I remembered Damian’s training. I ducked under a swing, my hands finding the knife tucked in my boot. With a quick flick of my wrist, I slashed at the man’s arm, making him drop his weapon with a pained grunt. But there was no time to breathe. Another attacker came at me, this time with a gun. I dropped to the ground, rolling behind the couch just as a bullet shattered the mirror above me. My ears rang, but I pushed the fear aside. I wasn’t going to die here. Then, a deafening gunshot echoed through the room. The man with the gun collapsed, blood seeping from a wound in his chest. I turned to see Damian standing in the doorway, his expression murderous.

I was furious. Again. Damian had spent the entire day pushing me away, shutting me out, acting as if last night—whatever it was—had never happened. I stormed into his office, slamming the door behind me. He barely looked up from the papers on his desk, his face unreadable as always. The firelight flickered against his sharp features, casting shadows across his jaw. “Are you ever going to stop pretending?” I snapped, crossing my arms. Damian exhaled, finally setting his pen down. He leaned back in his chair, his cold eyes meeting mine. “What exactly am I pretending, Isabella?” I stepped closer, planting my hands on his desk. “That you don’t care. That none of this matters to you.” His expression remained unreadable, but something dark flickered in his eyes. “You think you understand me?” “I don’t,” I admitted. “Because you won’t let me.” Silence settled between us, thick and heavy. He tapped his fingers against the desk, then suddenly stood up. “Come with me,” he said. I hesi

The drive to the hidden estate was long and tense. Damian had barely spoken a word since we left, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched. I didn’t push him—whatever we were about to walk into was clearly weighing on him. After what happened at the private club, we needed answers. The attacks weren’t random, and whoever was behind them knew exactly how to strike. That’s why we were here—to meet someone who might have those answers. The estate was deep in the countryside, surrounded by tall iron gates and dense forest. It was the kind of place that promised absolute secrecy. As we approached, I noticed several guards standing at attention, their gazes sharp and unreadable. Damian exchanged a nod with them before driving through. The house itself was an old, sprawling mansion, its grand architecture untouched by time. It felt more like a fortress than a home. A man was waiting for us on the steps—Sergei. He was older, his hair graying at the temples, but his