All Chapters of The Devil's Vow #1: Crimson Promises: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

92 Chapters

Crimson 71

The battlefield was behind us, but its ghosts would never truly leave. The scent of blood still clung to the air, the weight of death pressing down on our shoulders. The echoes of gunfire had faded, but in my mind, I could still hear them—sharp, brutal reminders of the life we had chosen. Damian stood beside me, his grip on my hand firm. Neither of us spoke as we walked through the wreckage, stepping over shattered glass and fallen bodies. The war was over, but the world had not magically pieced itself back together. Victory did not mean peace. Not for people like us. I squeezed Damian’s hand, a silent reminder that he wasn’t alone. He glanced down at me, his cold blue eyes softening—just a little. He was exhausted. Not physically—no, Damian Volkov was built for war, trained to endure. But this was a different kind of exhaustion. One that settled deep into the bones, one that sleep could never truly erase. I understood it because I felt it, too. What Comes After War?
last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-17
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Crimson 72

The Volkov estate stood before us, unchanged yet different. The grand halls, once filled with the echoes of strategy meetings and the weight of war, now carried a silence that felt heavier than the battles we had fought. Victory had come at a cost. Damian and I had won. The Volkov family had prevailed. But as I stepped into the estate, I realized something chilling—none of us knew how to live beyond war. The scent of old wood and faint cigar smoke lingered in the air as I walked through the halls. The last time I had been here, war had been on the horizon, looming like a storm we couldn’t escape. Now, the battle was over, yet I felt no relief. I glanced at Damian. His shoulders were stiff, his expression unreadable, but I knew better. I had seen him in war, in bloodshed, in moments of ruthless victory. And yet, this—coming home—seemed to unsettle him more than any battlefield ever had. “They’re waiting,” he murmured, his voice low. I nodded. The remaining members of the Vo
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Crimson 73

The taste of victory was bittersweet. Though the war was over, its ghosts still clung to us like a second skin. Damian had won, but the cost was heavy, and the man who stood beside me now was not the same man who had fought tooth and nail to bring our enemies to their knees. He was restless. Always watching, always waiting. I could see it in the way his shoulders never fully relaxed, in the way his fingers twitched toward his gun whenever someone entered a room too quickly. He didn't sleep much, and when he did, his nightmares were worse than before. The war had ended. But for Damian, the battle was far from over. The Weight of Paranoia I found him in his office, pacing like a caged animal. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing the scars that lined his forearms—some old, some fresh. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark as he read over reports from his men. “They're still out there,” he muttered under his breath. “Scattered, but not gone.” I leaned against the doorway, arms
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Crimson 73

The Volkov estate had never felt so alive. The grand hall, usually cold and filled with calculating eyes, was transformed into something unrecognizable—a place of celebration. Chandeliers cast a golden glow over the polished marble floors, the sound of laughter and conversation echoing through the space. It was a sight I never thought I’d see in this world, a moment of peace after years of bloodshed. It was almost as if the ghosts of the past were finally quieted, allowing a fleeting moment of tranquility to settle over the estate. But amid the extravagant display, my attention was solely on the man at the center of it all—Damian. He stood tall, dressed in a tailored black suit that exuded power, his presence commanding every eye in the room. The weight of the crown now fully rested on his shoulders, yet there was something different about him. He wasn’t just the ruthless leader the Volkov family had followed for years—he was something more. He was mine. The air was thick with the
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Crimson 74

The night air was crisp, the soft whispers of the wind barely making a sound against the distant hum of the estate. Damian and I stood there, close enough that I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his presence enveloping me in a way that felt like everything was finally falling into place. The world outside, with all its chaos and threats, seemed so far away at this moment. All that mattered was the man standing before me—the man I had chosen, the man who had chosen me. There was no longer any room for denial, no more fights against the inevitable. Our love had become something undeniable, something neither of us could ignore any longer. I could feel his gaze on me, his eyes dark and intense, full of a mix of emotions I didn’t quite understand but welcomed with open arms. His fingers brushed against my cheek, his touch gentle but firm, as if he were grounding me, keeping me from floating away into the uncertainty that always seemed to lurk around us. "You’re quiet,"
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Crimson 76

I thought, for once, we had found peace. It felt like a distant memory now, that moment when Damian and I had finally allowed ourselves to stop fighting the inevitable, to just be with each other. It had taken everything to get to that point, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like the world might finally let us be. We had faced so many battles—battles that had left scars, but had also brought us closer. I believed that with each challenge we overcame, we would grow stronger, untouchable, immune to the forces that wanted to tear us apart. But peace, it seemed, was never meant to last. It was a quiet evening when the storm began. Damian and I had just finished dinner, the sounds of our laughter still hanging in the air as we leaned back in our chairs, savoring the comfort of the moment. The night was calm, the stars above our heads twinkling like they always did. It felt like we had finally earned a moment of rest. The weight of our past seemed to lift just a little bit more, and
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Crimson 77

I thought we had already faced the worst. But the truth, as it always does, had a way of finding us when we least expected it. I never imagined that the quiet moments, the ones where I thought Damian and I could finally breathe and build a future together, would be interrupted by the very thing that had torn us apart in the first place. It started with Viktor. The man whose presence sent a ripple of unease through my entire body. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something about him wasn’t right, even if Damian refused to say more. Every conversation, every glance, only confirmed that there was more beneath the surface than he had ever told me. And now, I stood on the precipice of something much darker than I could have ever imagined. The betrayal had already begun, and I hadn’t even seen it coming. Damian and I spent the next few days reeling from Viktor’s visit, his cryptic words echoing in my mind. He had promised us that the truth would come to light, that everything we thoug
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Crimson 78

It felt like we had been fighting for so long, like the weight of the world had been pressing down on us for years. But now, for the first time in so long, the dust had settled. The war was over. Alexander was gone, the threat to Damian and everything we had fought for finally extinguished. And yet, there was an uneasy silence that hung between us, like the calm before another storm. We had faced everything together, each battle drawing us closer, each challenge leaving us more intertwined in a way that nothing could ever pull apart. But now, the world around us had shifted. The pieces had fallen into place, and we stood on the edge of something new. The future was ours, but it felt more uncertain than anything we had ever known. Damian, always the pillar of strength, was quiet in a way I had never seen before. The fire in his eyes was still there, but it was dimmed, like something important had shifted inside him. The man I had come to know and love had always been defined by power
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Crimson 79

The first few weeks after everything settled felt like a dream. I was no longer waking up to the harsh, cold reality that had been my life for so long. The weight of the violence, the bloodshed, the constant threat of betrayal—it was all gone. At least, for the moment. We had made it through the storm, and now, Damian and I stood at the beginning of something entirely new. Something we had never imagined for ourselves. A life free of fear, of control, and of the ties that had once bound us to a world of darkness. But as we began to rebuild, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything around us was still changing. Damian had always been strong, always the unshakeable leader, but now there was a softness in him. A change that I couldn’t put into words, but that I felt in every interaction, every quiet moment between us. He wasn’t just the head of the Volkov family anymore—he was something more. And so was I. When I first met Damian, I had felt like an outsider. I had been brought int
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Crimson 80

The sun had set, leaving a soft golden hue that seemed to linger in the air. The kind of light that made everything feel still, almost suspended in time. Damian and I sat side by side, the soft rustling of the leaves around us the only sound that filled the silence between us. We didn’t need words; we didn’t need anything except the quiet moment we had earned. We were both lost in our thoughts, but there was a sense of peace between us, one that felt unfamiliar, yet comforting.I leaned back against the stone bench, looking up at the sky, trying to soak in the serenity of the moment. For the first time in a long while, the weight that had once pressed on my chest—on both of us—felt lighter. The tension, the constant fear that had shaped our every decision for so long, was gone. The world still turned, and the problems that came with it would always be there, but for now, in this very moment, everything was perfect.We had been through so much together. Our lives had started as enemies
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