𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞|18+

32|"Wicked Vows: A Mafia King's Jealousy of His Own Blood"

In the shadows of their wedding vows,
He watches close, his fury grows.
Not for rivals, not for foes,
But for the ones he calls his own.

His family smiles, but his eyes burn,
A jealousy that won't return.
For she, his bride, is his alone,
No other hands should dare to own.

Through blood and ties, they may have claim,
But she’s his heart, his pride, his flame.
In every glance, in every sigh,
He’ll guard her love, and never lie.

The dim light flickered softly in the room, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls.

A pinboard stood prominently against one corner, adorned with three photographs that captured moments frozen in time.

Among them, one particular image drew the attention of a lady who stood there, her expression a mixture of nostalgia and resolve. 

With deliberate slowness, she reached for the photograph of Avni, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed the glossy surface. 

“I’m back again,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with an unsettling mix of determination and sorrow. In a swift motion, she brought the picture closer, a glint of flame igniting in her other hand. 

The photograph curled and blackened as it succumbed to the fire, the edges flickering like the memories it held—consumed in a moment of catharsis. 

On the table beside her, a gun lay ominously, its cold metal gleaming in the dim light, a stark reminder of the horrific scene unfolding.

 The weight of the object hinted at a violent history, adding to the palpable tension in the air. The room felt charged with an unspoken promise of change, as the remnants of the past turned to ash, leaving behind only shadows of what once was.

___