Vengeance in His Bed

Chapter 65: You Are Not Going to Survive the Replay

Vengeance in His Bed

Chapter 65: You Are Not Going to Survive the Replay

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Chapter 65: You Are Not Going to Survive the Replay

The reinforced glass doors of the medical facility slid open with a whisper-quiet mechanical hiss, allowing Bellero Boren to step directly into the sanitized corridor.

He didn’t sneak through the shadows, nor did he use the violent tactics of his underworld syndicate. Instead, the Mafia boss walked down the brightly lit hallway with a calm, leisurely stride, his posture relaxed and an easy, deceptive smile resting on his sharp features, looking exactly like a warm, old gentleman going to visit a dear, long-time friend. He easily bypassed the nurses’ stations and the automated security matrices, his eyes tracking the room numbers until he reached the private, high-security suite where Duro was being kept under the Grefo family’s financial protection.

Bellero pushed the door open smoothly, stepping into the quiet room.

Duro was sitting near the large window, staring blankly out at the manicured gardens of the facility. The moment the old man heard footsteps, he slowly turned his head. Bellero didn’t hesitate; he closed the distance between them with a predatory grace, extending his broad arms as he leaned down, looking as though he was about to warmly hug Duro in a grand display of affection.

Duro instinctively recoiled, his entire frame tensing as he pressed himself back against the cushions of his chair. He looked straight into Bellero’s cold, golden eyes and asked in a flat, raspy whisper, "Who are you? Get away from me."

Bellero slowly pulled his arms back, though he didn’t step away. He stood towering over the seated old man, a dark, cynical smirk twisting his lips as he adjusted the cuffs of his expensive silk suit. "It’s completely okay, Duro," Bellero murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that instantly shattered the peaceful atmosphere of the room. "You might as well continue to pretend not to know me. You can play your little memory games all you want. But there is something incredibly important that you absolutely need to know right now... and it is about Jannah."

The exact moment the name of his grandchild left Bellero’s lips, Duro’s entire demeanor violently fractured. The artificial emptiness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense spike of raw panic and protective fury. He gripped the armrests of his chair so hard his knuckles turned stark white, his breathing turning ragged as he glared up at the Mafia boss. "What... what have you done to her?!" Duro reacted fiercely, his voice cracking with emotion. "What have you done to my Jannah?!"

Bellero let out a short, mocking chuckle, leaning his hip against the edge of the medical bed as he took in the old man’s explosive reaction. "Well, look at that. At least you aren’t pretending to lose the identity of your precious grandchild, Duro. That is very good. At least we can establish that much ground truth."

The older Alpha casually ran a hand through his stark white hair, his eyes narrowing into lethal slits. "To answer your question, I have done absolutely nothing to her. Not yet, anyway. I am only here tonight because I have one very familiar request to make regarding her future."

Duro’s jaw clenched with bitter resentment, his chest heaving under his white facility gown as he tried to force his defensive mask back into place. "You are a complete stranger to me," Duro hissed, his voice trembling as he looked away toward the window. "There is absolutely nothing familiar about you, and there is nothing familiar about any request you could possibly make. Leave this room immediately."

"Oh, you will know exactly how familiar I am the moment you listen to the request... or rather, the threat that comes along with it," Bellero whispered darkly, leaning down until his shadow completely engulfed Duro’s fragile frame. The terrifying, dominant weight of his Mafia pheromones began to slowly leak into the room, suffocating the air. "Let me make the terms completely clear to you, old man. I want Jannah to be married to my son, Damian Boren. And it needs to happen much sooner than later."

Bellero’s sharp, analytical gaze tracked every single micro-expression on the old man’s face. He observed with a dark satisfaction as Duro’s entire upper body stiffened a bit at the mention of the Boren name. It was a violent, internal shock, but Duro quickly tried to hide it, forcing his features to relax as he let out a weak, shaky breath.

Duro looked up, his voice forced into a thin line of calculated ignorance. "Who... who is Damian? I have never heard that name in my life. I don’t know who your son is."

"I bet you know exactly who he is, Duro," Bellero barked back, his voice dropping into a cold, clinical monotone that carried decades of unyielding malice. "And you know exactly how this game is played. You and I have been running in this circle for far too long. Let me remind you of the rules: anyone else who will dare to choose her, anyone else who attempts to claim Jannah’s biological frequency besides my bloodline, will always meet the exact same tragic fate. Much stubbornness from your family’s side will always lead the women of your lineage to the most drastic, bloody ends. That has always been the fundamental rule of the game we play, Duro. Your daughter Frost proved that to us years ago when she dared to refuse my hand."

The brutal mention of his deceased daughter made Duro’s eyes flare with a sudden, weeping hatred. He violently shook his head, his hands trembling as he pointed a finger toward the exit. "I don’t know anything about what you are talking about! You are speaking in riddles! I am a sick, old man with no memory of the past! You should just leave me alone and get out of this facility! Jannah is a free citizen of this city... she is completely free to choose whoever she wants to love and marry! You cannot force her!" 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Bellero slowly straightened his spine, standing up to his full, imposing height as he looked down at the shivering old man with absolute, chilling disdain. He turned toward the door, his hand resting on the silver handle, before he cast one final, predatory glance over his shoulder.

"Your stupid, pathetic amnesia is going to end the exact moment I start acting just like the past years, Duro," Bellero whispered, his golden eyes flashing with a sudden, lethal promise of violence that cut straight through the silence of the room. "And trust me... you are not going to survive the replay."

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