Chapter 2: A Vow Written in Blood
698 Words
Emma’s POV
Blood.
That was the first thing I saw.
It painted the walls like a violent masterpiece. The marble floors were slick with crimson.
Bodies lay scattered—men in black suits, some already gone, others choking on their last breaths.
And then… I saw him.
A man.
Gun pressed against another man’s head.
That man was my father.
The scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it.
“D–Dad!”
My heart cracked. My lungs refused to breathe.
My father’s terrified eyes met mine, whispering my name as though it were a prayer for forgiveness.
The gunman froze. His gaze shifted, locking on me.
And then… recognition struck me like a blade.
Daniel.
The name I had carried like a secret flame since childhood.
The boy I once loved.
The dream I thought I wanted.
Now standing before me as a nightmare made flesh.
His suit was soaked in blood. His eyes—once warm—burned with something savage, starved, possessive.
He smirked.
“Emma… you came? If I had known, I would have laid out roses for you… instead of corpses.”
His voice was velvet over steel. Sweet poison.
His smile didn’t remind me of childhood.
It reminded me of fire.
I whispered, broken, “W–what is happening?”
He spread his arms as if offering a grand stage.
“As you can see… you’ve finally come home.”
I stepped inside on shaking legs.
Corpses lined the corners. My mother clutched Santiago, shielding him with trembling arms.
And on a chair, indifferent to the c*****e, sat another man—cold eyes, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Miguel.
Daniel’s twin.
The air was thick with smoke, blood, and silence.
I turned to Daniel, anger trembling in my voice.
“Does my aunt even know what you’ve turned her brother’s house into?!”
His smirk vanished.
He strode toward me, each step echoing, blood dripping from his hand. His whisper was lethal:
“Do you know… what your father has done?”
I froze.
“No matter what he did, I have nothing to do with it. And neither does my mother.”
Our eyes clashed. My memories of an innocent boy shattered. In his place stood a monster wearing his face.
I cried out, “What did my father do?!”
It wasn’t Daniel who answered.
Miguel stood, flicking ash from his cigarette.
“He betrayed us.”
The word sliced through me.
Miguel’s cold stare pinned me in place.
“Daniel asked for your hand. Your father said he would ‘consider it.’ But we—” a cruel smile tugged his lips “—we Montreaux men don’t ask. We take.”
I blinked, horrified.
“Asked for my… what?”
Miguel’s voice sharpened.
“He promised you to a Russian instead. He sold you.”
My heart crashed.
“No… No! Dad… tell me it isn’t true!”
Tears burned my eyes as I turned to him.
“I’m sorry, Emma,” my father’s voice broke. “It was your mother’s idea… I… I was weak.”
I spun to my mother. Her eyes were cold, her words venom.
“What? Would you rather marry a beast… or a man you at least know? Joshua isn’t a stranger.”
A gunshot shattered the air. The bullet slammed into the wall above her head.
My mother screamed and fell to the floor.
I didn’t need to look to know who fired.
Daniel.
His eyes burned with hellfire.
I stood before him, the scent of blood, gunpowder, and memory clinging to him.
In my heart, I whispered:
Forgive me, Mother. I’d rather be claimed by this monster… than sold like a commodity to another man.
But aloud, my voice trembled with surrender.
“Daniel… I’ll marry you.”
Madness flickered in his gaze. His lips curled into a smile both terrifying and beautiful.
“Of course you will, my little kitten,” he whispered.
“Even if every mafia in the world comes for you… I’ll never let you go.”
His eyes didn’t speak of love.
They spoke of obsession.
Of hunger.
Of possession.
- Writer
