VOWS OF SHADOWS
The cathedral loomed over us like a giant, smug and unbothered. Stained glass casting colored shadows that should’ve been pretty, but all I saw was a cage, bright and blinding. Standing next to Julian Varela, I felt the chill of a kingpin’s glare slicing through me. My heartbeat? Probably loud enough to drown out the priest’s sermon.
I gripped the bouquet so hard I thought the flowers might turn to dust. Tried to breathe slow, but all I managed was a ghost of the practiced smile I’d worn a thousand times before—fake, brittle, a mask made of iron and lies.
Julian leaned in, voice low and venomous. “Smile. The world’s watching.”
Yeah, smile like a puppet on a string. Something inside cracked, but I forced it—because this was a show, a deal, not a damn wedding.
The priest’s voice droned on, words swallowed by the heavy air.
“Asha Moretti, do you take Julian Varela as your husband?”
The room spun like a storm, then Julian’s fingers brushed mine—cold, a warning, a claim.
“I do,” I said, teeth clenched so hard my jaw threatened to break.
Julian answered, voice flat and certain. “Yes, I do.”
As the priest sealed the deal, Julian’s breath ghosted near my ear, “You’re mine now. Don’t forget.”
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t break. But inside? I was screaming. I stood taller, defiant, even if my soul was chained. The applause echoed like a lie around us—everyone playing their part in this cruel theater.
Later, Julian’s mansion rose ahead like a fortress—cold marble, sharp edges—his kingdom, my prison.
The reception had been a blur of smiles that didn’t reach eyes and thinly veiled threats, but now, the silence hit me hard.
Julian’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and cold. “No more formalities. Let’s get something clear—you’re here for a reason, nothing more. Stay out of my way. Don’t think for a second that I trust you.”
I crossed my arms, daring him. “And what exactly do you want? Quiet obedience?”
His eyes darkened, dangerous. “Exactly. Obey, you survive. Defy me, and you won’t like how fast that changes.”
I met his stare. “I’m no pawn, Julian. I’m not yours.”
A cruel smile tugged at his lips. “We’ll see.”
Before I could respond, the door slammed open. Marco —Julian’s right hand man— bursted in, breathless and tense. “Julian. Trouble. West end—Lorenzo’s men.”
Julian’s face hardened like stone. “Stay here.”
I hesitated. “You expect me to wait?”
Julian didn’t even blink. “Yes. Or you risk getting caught in the crossfire.”
“Don’t even…”
Before I could say more, the mansion shook violently—a deafening explosion, windows rattling.
Julian grabbed my arm, dragging me back. “Stay.”
“No,” I snapped, panic fueling me. “I’m not hiding.”
His grip tightened. “You’ll die if you don’t. Choose.”
Marco still breathless, blood stained on his shirt. “They’re inside. We have to move—now.”
Julian’s jaw clenched. “Secure room. Now!”
I fought Marco’s grasp. “I’m not leaving.”
Julian’s eyes softened a moment, then hardened. “You have no choice.”
The mansion shuddered again as fire and smoke swallowed the halls. Julian shoved me toward Marco. “Go.”
Pulled away, I looked back. Julian disappeared into the chaos—his silhouette a stubborn warrior in the flames.
The safe room door slammed shut behind us, sealing away the nightmare.
Outside, the gunfire roared, screams and orders tangled in a deadly symphony.
And in my chest, one brutal truth hammered hard:
I didn’t just marry into a family—I signed a blood contract with chaos.
Will I make it out of here alive?
