Blood Vows and Broken Ribs

Start Reading

Damian Blackwood, the notorious mafia lord, threw himself over me, using his body to shield me from the explosion.

He lay in the rubble, drenched in blood, yet he smiled.

Kira, don't cry. Trading twelve broken ribs so you'll remember me for the rest of your life? That's a bargain.

After returning home, I developed severe PTSD, waking from nightmares every night.

He left the underworld behind, washed away the bloodstains, and became the gentlest version of himself.

After our wedding, he tattooed my name over the scar on his chest, promising to love me forever.

Until that night, when I woke from another nightmare to find him missing from our bedroom.

Through the study door, I saw him slip his hands beneath a girl's skirt, his voice hoarse as he coaxed her.

"Baby, relax."

The man I'd worshipped like a god was having sex with someone else when I needed him most.

I raised my gun with a smile, aiming it at my own heart.

"Damian Blackwood. Divorce or widowhood. Pick one."

The sounds inside the room stopped abruptly.

Damian's movements froze. He turned slowly.

The desire in his eyes hadn't faded yet, but when he saw the gun pressed against my chest, his gaze instantly turned to ice.

The girl emerged from his embrace, her face pure and innocent, eyes timid like a frightened deer.

Damian casually positioned himself to shield her, smoothing down her skirt.

He stood and walked toward me step by step, his voice gentle as always.

"Kira, stop this. Put the gun down."

I laughed.

Stop this?

My finger moved to the trigger.

"I'm giving you three seconds."

His brow furrowed, cracks finally appearing in that gentle facade.

"Kira, you know I don't like having guns pointed at me."

"And you know I like it even less when someone points a gun at you."

The girl called Violet suddenly burst into tears, rushing out from behind him to kneel before me.

"Kira, don't blame Damian. This is all my fault. I seduced him. Kill me if you want, but don't hurt him."

She cried beautifully, pitifully.

Damian's expression darkened completely.

He lunged forward, his wrist twisting with practiced precision to disarm me.

We'd drilled this move countless times on the edge of life and death.

Only this time, I was his target.

The gun fell silently onto the carpet.

He gripped my wrist, his fingers pressing hard enough to crush bone.

"She's just an innocent girl, not like us. Don't scare her."

I looked at him.

The tenderness and reproach in his eyes weren't for me.

I raised my other hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"Damian Blackwood, I'll make this easy for you."

I turned to leave.

He pulled me into his arms from behind, his burning chest pressed against my back, panic in his voice.

"Kira, don't go. I'll make her disappear. You'll never see her again."

I didn't turn around. My voice was calm.

"Don't bother."

The moment I finished speaking, I jerked my elbow back, slamming it into the old wound on his chest with all my strength.

He grunted and released me.

I didn't pause for a second. I walked straight to the study and retrieved the divorce papers I'd prepared long ago.

I'd drafted them after my first episode following our marriage.

But he'd said then that divorce would only happen over his dead body.

I never imagined these papers would come in handy at such an absurd moment.

By the time I returned to the living room, Violet was gone.

Damian sat on the sofa, half his face hidden in shadow, an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

When he saw me, he looked up.

Those eyes that had once shielded me from the world's storms were now filled with exhaustion.

"I won't sign. Kira, there's no divorce between us."

I threw the papers in his face.

"Then widowhood it is."

Damian placed me under house arrest.

He confiscated all my communication devices and weapons. The villa's security system was upgraded to maximum level.

The bodyguards who'd once sworn to protect me with their lives now became my jailers.

Damian came home every day, acting as if nothing had happened, preparing my meals and coaxing me to take my medication.

He sat by the bed, using those hands that had once dealt death, clumsily peeling an apple for me.

"Kira, the doctor says you need rest. When you're better, I'll take you to see the ocean."

The ocean again.

He'd once promised that when we finally escaped that blood-soaked world, he'd take me to see the cleanest ocean in the world.

Now he was clean, with someone new by his side.

I knocked the apple from his hand.

"Damian Blackwood, stop making me sick."

He didn't get angry. He simply crouched down to pick up the pieces, one by one.

"If you don't want apples, how about some soup? I simmered it for hours."

I watched his humble posture and suddenly found it laughable.

The feared crime lord was now kneeling before me, just to get me to drink some soup.

How pathetic.

"Get out."

His body stiffened. Eventually, he left in silence, carrying the bowl of soup.

The door locked from the outside.

I lay in bed, listening to the familiar gunfire from my nightmares, sleepless all night.

The next day, an unfamiliar maid brought lunch.

Under the plate was a photograph.

Of Violet.

She wore a white dress, standing in sunlight, smiling innocently.

Around her neck was a necklace, the one Damian had bought me with his first legitimate paycheck for my eighteenth birthday.

I'd lost it during a mission. I'd searched for so long.

So it had been with him all along.

The back of the photo bore a line of delicate handwriting:

"Kira, Damian says only someone as pure as me deserves this necklace. He says you're too dirty. The smell of you makes him sick."

My hands trembled uncontrollably.

Dirty.

Yes, how could I not be dirty?

To pull him from a pile of corpses, I'd stayed awake for three days and nights, personally stitching seventeen wounds on his body.

To avenge him, I'd stormed the enemy's stronghold alone and killed thirty-seven people.

When I returned to him covered in blood, he'd held me and kissed every scar on my body.

He'd said, "My Kira is the purest girl in this world."

Now he found me dirty.

I gripped the photo and laughed.

That evening, when Damian came home, I was waiting for him in the living room.

The table was set with an elegant candlelit dinner-wine, steak, and his favorite black swan cake.

He froze, then joy flickered in his eyes.

"Kira, you..."

I raised my glass to him, smiling.

"Damian , congratulations."

"Congratulations for what?"

"For finally finding the girl of your dreams."

The smile froze on his face.

I stood and walked over, slapping the photograph against his chest.

"But there's something I need to remind you about."

I leaned close to his ear, speaking in a voice only we could hear.

"I have a problem. Things I've used, even if I don't want them anymore, even if I throw them away, I can't stand anyone else touching them. Anyone who touches them loses their hands."

Damian's breathing became ragged. He stared at me intently.

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing much."

I stepped back, savoring his mixture of shock and fury.

"Just had someone deliver a little gift. I wonder if she liked it."

He grabbed my wrist violently, his voice low and rough.

"Kira! I'm warning you-if you lay one finger on her, you'll regret it!"

"Oh? Regret it?"

I lifted my foot and kicked hard at his shin.

He winced but refused to let go.

"You know how important she is to me!"

Important?

I looked into his bloodshot eyes, my smile growing brighter.

"How important? More important than your life?"

Five years ago, in the border rainforest, three hundred men had surrounded us.

To protect me, he'd drawn the enemy away alone. He'd taken three bullets-one just a centimeter from his heart.

When I found him, he'd stopped breathing.

I'd knelt in the mud, crying as I performed CPR, begging him not to leave me.

When he woke, his first words were:

"Kira, don't be afraid. I won't die. My life is yours. Death can't take me without your permission."

Now he was looking at me this way for another woman.

My heart ached so badly I could barely breathe.

"Damian Blackwood, have you forgotten? Your life belongs to me."

His body shook. The madness in his eyes faded somewhat, replaced by endless pain.

"Kira, don't push me."

"Push you to what? To kill me and pay for your lover's life?"

I shook off his hand and pulled a steak knife from behind me, pressing it against his heart.

"Or should I kill you first?"

The blade pierced his shirt, drawing tiny beads of blood.

He looked down at the knife at his chest and suddenly laughed.

That laugh was desolate and desperate.

"Go ahead. Kill me."

He gripped my hand and pushed the blade deeper.

"If I die by your hand, I accept it."

Blood instantly stained his white shirt red.

I watched that glaring crimson, then twisted my wrist and drove the knife into the wall behind him, missing his ear by millimeters.

"Want to die?"

"Damian Blackwood, you haven't finished repaying what you owe me. How could I let you die so easily?"

"Watch carefully. Watch how your lover becomes even dirtier than me."

I pulled out the micro-remote I'd hidden in the cake and pressed the button.

The villa's massive screen flickered to life, showing Violet's face.

She was bound to a chair, gagged, her face wet with terrified tears.

Before her stood a man in a black suit, holding a scalpel.

The man grinned at the camera, showing teeth white as bone.

"Mr. Blackwood, let the game begin."

Damian's pupils contracted sharply.

He charged toward the screen but was stopped by the electric net I'd set up in advance.

Current surged through his body. He let out a pained grunt and collapsed heavily to the floor.

"Kira!"

He struggled to lift his head, eyes bloodshot.

"Let her go! Come after me!"

I walked over and crouched down, looking down at him.

"Come after you?"

I placed my foot on the leg that had once carried him through hell for me, slowly grinding down.

"Do you deserve that?"

On screen, the man in black ran his scalpel slowly across Violet's pretty face.

No blood yet.

But more cruel than bloodshed.

With the blade's tip, he peeled away the tissue of her face, layer by layer.

Violet convulsed in agony, blood streaming down her face, her eyes full of pleading.

Damian's eyes nearly split with rage.

"Stop! I said stop!"

He threw himself against the electric net repeatedly, even as the current charred his body, refusing to quit.

"Kira, I'm begging you. Let her go. She's carrying... my child."

My movements stopped.

My foot on his leg froze.

Child.

He said child.

Three years ago, I'd also carried a child.

Our child.

Seven months along, already kicking my belly.

Damian used to press his ear to my stomach every day, listening to the movements inside, grinning like a fool.

He'd said that once the baby was born, he'd leave everything behind. Our family of three would go somewhere no one knew us and live the most ordinary life.

But later, to save him, I'd rushed into gunfire with my swollen belly.

The child was lost.

A boy. When he was induced, his body was still warm.

From that day on, I could never conceive again.

The doctor said my body was too damaged. I'd never be a mother in this lifetime.

I'd buried this secret deep in my heart, never telling him.

I was afraid he'd grieve, blame himself.

But now, he had a child with another woman.

I looked at him, at his pleading eyes, and suddenly laughed.

Laughed until tears streamed down my face.

"A child? Damian, do you remember? We once had a child too."

The color drained from his face. His lips trembled, unable to form words.

On screen, Violet seemed to hear our conversation.

She gathered all her strength, spat out the gag, and screamed hoarsely.

"Damian! Save me! Save our child! Kill this crazy bitch! She's just jealous! Jealous that I'm carrying your child while she can't have any!"

Her words stabbed into my heart.

I slowly stood and walked to the screen.

Looking at Violet's blood-streaked face, I gave her a gentle smile.

"You're right. I am jealous."

I picked up the remote and pressed another button.

The man in black put away the scalpel and produced a syringe filled with clear liquid.

"This is my latest formula. No side effects."

"It just makes people expel all the dirty things from their bellies. Nice and clean."

Damian's eyes went wide, filled with bloodshot veins.

"No! Kira! Don't!"

He lunged at the electric net like a madman, letting the deadly current tear through him.

"I was wrong! Kira! I was really wrong!"

"I'll do anything you want! Please! Don't touch the child! That's my flesh and blood!"

I watched him writhe in pain, and the last trace of warmth in my heart died.

I picked up the walkie-talkie, my voice cold and emotionless.

"Do it."