Chapter 20: The Last Oath

The sky over Jaipur was heavy with clouds, but the Leone estate blazed with light.

Tonight was not for war.

It was for closure.

The old families had gathered — friends, allies, and those who had once plotted in shadows. Now, they sat in silence, watching the new royalty rise.

Aaravi stood beside Matteo in a blood-red gown, neckline sharp like a dagger, her hair woven in gold. She was no longer the girl from the bookstore.

She was his queen.

But this night was not about crowns.

It was about vengeance. And peace.

Matteo stepped forward.

The crowd parted.

In the center of the courtyard knelt the last man on the list.

Ramesh Nair.

The Indian traitor who sold coordinates to the Russians.

Matteo raised his gun.

But Aaravi reached out.

“Let me,” she said.

He looked at her — not with surprise, but with something fiercer.

Respect.

Trust.

She walked forward slowly, heels clicking on stone, silence folding around her like a cloak.

Ramesh looked up, trembling.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You meant every bullet,” she whispered.

She raised the gun.

For a breath, she hesitated.

Then pulled the trigger.

One shot.

Straight between the eyes.

The courtyard exhaled.

And then, as one, they bowed.

To the woman who killed for love.

And for justice.

---

Later, in the library that once belonged to Matteo’s father, the fire crackled while he poured them both a drink.

“Do you regret any of it?” he asked quietly, watching her as she traced the rim of her glass.

“No,” she said without hesitation.

Then: “Do you?”

He looked at her — the girl who’d become his wife, his soldier, his shadow, his salvation.

“I regret not finding you sooner.”

She smiled.

It was softer now.

A little sad.

A little free.

He stepped closer, slid his hand around her waist.

And she whispered, “Promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“When our children ask about us… don’t lie.”

He tilted his head.

“Even about the blood?”

She nodded.

“Especially the blood. Let them know we weren’t perfect. But we chose each other. Again and again.”

He kissed her then — slow, deep, tender.

Not like a mafia boss.

Not like a king.

But like a man.

A man in love.

---

Ten years later, in a quiet bookstore on the edge of Jaipur, a little boy pulled down a leather-bound novel and turned to his twin sister.

“Did you know Mama once shot a man in the head?”

The girl blinked.

“Papa said she wore a red dress when she did it.”

Behind them, Aaravi leaned against the doorway, smiling faintly.

Matteo came up behind her, his arms circling her waist.

“Do we tell them everything?” he murmured.

“Let them read it in their own time,” she whispered.

“Let them find the oaths we kept.”

And outside, the rain began to fall — soft and slow, like the world had finally exhaled.

And Crimson Oaths were laid to rest.

---

The End.

Thank you 😊 😊 😊

side story featuring Nico, Helena, or the children of Aaravi and Matteo?

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