Deleting soon
Deleting soon
Red blinds my eyes punching relentlessly to the face of the server boy who wheezes under my chokehold. Blood splutters out of his lips hanging slumped in my firm grip taking the blows after blows to the point of passing out. Fellow workers knelt on the floor with my men aiming their guns at each and everyone of them looking scared and fidgeting. All my mind replays is her eyes fluttering close, watching her die, the boat exploding, debris falling, me screaming her name getting no answer.
The blast had me battered and bruised but not disoriented; I forgo the cuts and slashes even the bullet hole leaking blood profusely. Everything, the pains became numb watching debris fall around me and no sign of her. I wanted to do something special for once in my life and instead I lost my guard fucking everything up eventually ruining my life in the process. I ran to the edge of the dock diving into the water, I swim searching for anything, just a glimpse. Nothing.
My whole world crumbles around me, my heart thumps loud in my chest but I kept on looking diving further into the water and screaming her name. Silence. It was all silent. For the first time, I cried and screamed like a madman punching the water and kicking aiming my frustration and anger at it.
I fucked up. I killed her. I killed my baby.
Guilt ate me up from the inside as my mind repeatedly say those words to me. All I want is to see her face again, watch her beautiful smile whenever I make her happy which was rare to none but she stayed, she endured and what did she get from it. Her death and that of our baby. I cried so hard, something I never did when Ma and Pa were killed. I cried for my pride, my arrogance, my unborn child, my Princess. I cried floating on top of the water screaming and searching for her.
"Vlad! Vlad!" Alexei voice calls rushing towards me with our men behind him. I just want to delve deeper, sinking it as I drink in large sums of water till my lungs can take no more and then let go so I can be with her again. "Get him out of there, now!" He commands. The numbness so pure despair took over my soul feeling my men pull me out of the water.
"Brat. Posmotri na menya. Chto sluchilosʹ? Gde net?" (Brother. Look at me. What happened? Where is Nia?) He held my face in his hands forcing me to look into his eyes which held worry and confusion.
Looking at the water and the debris all around us I choked tears streaming down my face. It was suppose to be perfect for her, everything I did it was all for her. I wanted to make it right but I didn't get the chance to do so.
"On zastrelil yeye Alexei. L·endro ubil Niyu, moy rebenok." (He shot her Alexei. Leandro killed Nia, my baby.)
The memory brought a darkness in me as I kept punching at the server's face growling and grunting in anger.
"We couldn't find anything boss." My head snaps to one of my men in anger finally letting go of the young server boy who falls to the floor unconscious. His colleagues scurries to help him nursing him back to health. I couldn't care less when the mother of my unborn baby just got blown up in front of my eyes.
"Search everywhere! No one gets out of here alive. No one!" I growl swiping things off the counter and pantry. Shrieks of terror echoes in the kitchen from the workers. No one gets out of here alive if I don't find that fucker. I was too busy fighting her with the excuse of protection when it has been planned from the onset when the attack will take place. They knew our every move, we got trailed. Fuck! Anya came to Italy for a reason. It couldn't be a coincidence. Alexei was right, I should have killed her when I got the chance and now regret seeps into my heart slowly.
My heart is gone, I felt nothing. It got ripped from me, taken without a second thought. My eyes scans the kitchen and a few dead bodies lying amiss as a result of my anger. When in fact they were sent to spy on Nia and I.
Choking, he spits blood. "Sir, I don't know anything." He coughs more blood taking my gaze to him. "I was only told to give you the note by a passerby at the dock before we left." In anger I snatch him by the collar causing the females in the room to scream in fright. He moans in pains. "Please don't kill me." Wheezing, I squeeze tight to his neck wanting to break it. To watch the life slip out of him like it did to my Princess.
"Vladimir! Vladimir! What are you doing? You are killing him." Alexei cautions.
"She is gone. He killed her!" A sinister look came across my face loving the way his face pales as the seconds tick.
"Vladimir you are not acting rational. Let him go." Stepping further to the scene. The hostages looks at me in fear.
"Alexei, She was pregnant. They killed her. The killed my woman and my baby." Firing a random shot in anger, cries and screams echoed igniting the fire of hate in me.
"Leandro did. Let him go Vlad." When he says that it was Nia's face which replays in my head whenever she chastises me. This is not what she would accept. Slowly I let him go staggering to rest on the island letting out a painful groan. I may be breathing but I knew I died with that boat. The pains inexplicable.
"We need to clean you up. You can't go walking on the streets like this." No response from me.
"We have to leave Vlad. It's not safe for you anymore."
"I'm not going anywhere without killing that bastard who took Nia away from me."
"And you have my full support but first we have to leave here."
I sat in the black escalade missing her warmth besides me. Her facial expressions when we get into a heated argument or her smug grins when she outsmarts me. Her unique scent. So distinctive I always know when she is close by. I memorized it all to the back of my head, she thought I never took notice but I did. I was just too stubborn, just like her to let her win most times. Now, I will do anything to have her get the last laugh.
"Boss. There's someone here requesting to see you." Stepping down the car, the driver says just as he opens my door. I look disheveled but who cares when the only one that does is gone. Taken from me.
"Fuck off." I hear Alexei let out an exhausting sigh.
"Send him in." He says walking behind me into the foyer of the hotel.
"And who the fuck are you?" I question looking at a familiar face glaring hard at me.
"I am Lucien Vatore and I'm here for my sister." And there I realized it couldn't get any worse
Since she was ten, Noreen had been by Caiden's side, watching him rise from a young boy into a respected CEO. After two years of marriage, though, his visits home grew rare. Gossip among the wealthy said he despised her. Even his beloved mocked her hopes, and his circle treated her with scorn. People forgot about her decade of loyalty. She clung to memories and became a figure of ridicule, worn out from trying. They thought he'd won his freedom, but he dropped to his knees and begged, "Noreen, you're the only one I love." Leaving behind the divorce papers, she walked away.
After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.
Five years into marriage, Hannah caught Vincent slipping into a hotel with his first love-the woman he never forgot. The sight told her everything-he'd married her only for her resemblance to his true love. Hurt, she conned him into signing the divorce papers and, a month later, said, "Vincent, I'm done. May you two stay chained together." Red-eyed, he hugged her. "You came after me first." Her firm soon rocketed toward an IPO. At the launch, Vincent watched her clasp another man's hand. In the fitting room, he cornered her, tears burning in his eyes. "Is he really that perfect? Hannah, I'm sorry... marry me again."
I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.
I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion. Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed. "Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies." I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor. Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel. Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out. I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years. He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back. Or so he thought. In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling. I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison. "You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back." I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use. "I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge." I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared.
My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world. Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage. An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity. The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity. How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation. Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free.
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