His Vow, Her Blood

Name: His Vow, Her Blood
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Libra37

Mafia | Ongoing

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"He vowed to protect her, but his world demands her blood." When Aria witnesses her father's assassination, her once-sheltered world collapses into a bloody chessboard of mafia politics. But just as she's about to fall apart, salvation arrives in the form of Dante Moretti - cold, ruthless, and tragically irresistible. He's the heir to the empire that killed her family. She's the last piece of a deal that could destroy his enemies. Bound by a marriage contract forged in vengeance, they are forced into a dangerous intimacy neither of them wanted - but both desperately need. As bullets fly and betrayals fester, passion ignites between them, threatening to unravel Dante's control and Aria's last shred of innocence. But secrets run deeper than blood... and love may be the deadliest vow of all.

Suspense Revenge Mafia Arranged marriage

Chapter 5 The Devil's Game

06-12 06:51

Chapter 1 The Witness

The city never slept, but tonight it bled.

Aria Leone had only wanted to help. Her hands were supposed to heal-not tremble under the weight of fear. But as she crouched behind a dumpster in the alley behind St. Vincent's Emergency Room, soaked in rain and adrenaline, she realized she had seen too much.

The gunshot still echoed in her ears.

A man had collapsed in front of her minutes ago, bleeding out, mumbling something about betrayal and black roses. She had dropped her phone while trying to dial 911. Then he appeared-tall, composed, dressed in an expensive suit with a gun in his gloved hand.

One shot to the forehead. Execution-style.

And then silence.

Aria's breath hitched. She should've run, should've screamed. But her feet refused to move.

The killer turned. Their eyes met.

It was like staring at death-and death looked right back at her.

For a heartbeat, neither moved. He tilted his head slightly, as if confused to see her there. She thought he might shoot her too. But instead, he slowly tucked the gun away, removed his gloves, and walked toward her.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said calmly, his voice like midnight-cold, deliberate, and unnervingly smooth.

"I-he was bleeding-I thought-" Her voice cracked. Her scrubs were wet, the smell of blood clinging to her like a second skin.

"You saw too much," he said, stopping a foot away. "What's your name?"

She stayed silent. Maybe if she didn't answer, he'd let her go.

"I asked you a question." His tone didn't rise, but something shifted in his eyes-dark, unyielding, with a warning behind every blink.

"Aria," she whispered.

The man stepped closer, lifted a gloved hand to gently tuck a wet strand of hair behind her ear. Aria flinched. "Pretty name," he murmured. "Shame."

He reached for his phone.

"Please," she blurted. "I didn't see anything. I didn't even- I don't know who you are."

He raised a brow. "But you did see something. And unfortunately, that puts me in a difficult position."

Her heart thundered. Her knees began to shake. This was it.

Death wasn't supposed to be beautiful, but he was. And that made it worse.

"Dante," a new voice called. A man in a leather jacket stepped into the alley, eyes flicking between Aria and the suited figure. "We've got company. Police scanner says they're heading this way."

Dante.

The name curled around her fear like smoke.

"Take her," Dante said, without looking back. "She's mine now."

Aria didn't scream when the men blindfolded her. She didn't cry when they tossed her into the back of a black SUV and drove for what felt like hours. But she memorized every detail she could: the smell of leather, the curve of the driver's nose, the chill in the car's AC. She would escape. Somehow.

They arrived at a mansion-no, a fortress-with iron gates and stone walls that whispered of secrets too old to be spoken aloud. Inside, everything was glass and gold and silence.

She was led to a room with no windows and a single armchair facing a fireplace. There, Dante waited, sipping dark liquor.

"I'm going to make this simple," he said, gesturing for her to sit. She didn't. "You saw something you weren't meant to. Normally, that would mean one thing: elimination."

"You mean murder," she snapped.

He smirked. "You're braver than you look."

"I'm not brave. I'm angry. You took me-kidnapped me!"

"I protected you," he corrected, "from the people who would have killed you. Do you think the men I work with have patience for witnesses?"

She folded her arms. "And you do?"

"No." His smirk faded. "But I have something they don't: options."

A file slid across the table. Her file. Photos of her, details from her residency at St. Vincent's, her scholarship, her late father's records.

"What is this?"

"Insurance," he said. "You're not leaving this house until I say so. But I won't harm you. In fact, I'll offer you a deal."

Aria's jaw clenched. "What kind of deal?"

"You'll pose as my fiancée. Live here. Play the part. I'll protect you, and in return, you'll keep your mouth shut."

A beat of stunned silence followed.

"You're insane."

"Maybe. But I'm alive. And if you want to stay that way, you'll agree."

"Why me?" she hissed. "Why not just kill me like the others?"

Dante leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Because there's something about you I can't explain. You saw me do something unforgivable, and yet... You didn't run."

"I froze."

"Same thing. Or maybe," he added softly, "you're not as innocent as you look."

Aria swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't trust him. She hated him.

But she wanted to live.

"One condition," she said. "You don't touch me. Not unless I allow it."

His smile returned. "Deal."

He raised his glass. She didn't toast back.

She was still deciding whether she'd kill him in his sleep.