LOGINEloise Laurent thought she had it all—a loving husband, a beautiful home, and the promise of a bright future. But her perfect life shattered in a single night when she discovered her husband, Damian, was about to take another wife. Humiliated, heartbroken, and cast out with nothing, Eloise’s world crumbled. Yet, just as she hit rock bottom, an even more shocking revelation emerged—the child growing inside her wasn't Damian’s. Due to a hospital mix-up, she was carrying the heir of Dante Romano, a ruthless billionaire known for his cold heart and iron will.
View MoreELOISE.The name on the passport felt like a strange thing to carry around, it was ill-fitting and cold. Juliette Dubois, a French name that befitted the alias that Marcus made for me, the thought of Marcus brought grateful tears to my eyes, because I wouldn’t know what I would have done without him. He was a good man and I’ll forever appreciate what he did for me, even though he didn’t have to. The plane descended through a thick blanket of grey light and the first glimpse of France I got was the rain-streaked tarmac and the blurred, indifferent lights of Charles de Gaulle airport. Marcus’s final words echoed in the sterile silence of my mind. “Eloise is gone, dead. Remember that, for their sake.” He had said and I nodded. For the sake of my unborn children and the sake of my husband, I couldn’t bear to be the reason he would be harmed, so it was better to stay away this way. What made it hurt the most was that, I knew that Dante would never allow me to be away from him if he knew
ELOISE. “Have we met?” The floor fell away from beneath me, the world tilted on its axis. “Dante…it's me. “It's Eloise.” He shook his head slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his features, he looked past me, his eyes searching the room, a desperate, longing look on his face. That look was supposed to be for me, and then he spoke the words that shattered my world into a million irreparable pieces. “Where's Valentina?” Isabella seized the moment like a vulture, a triumphant, cruel glint flashed in her eyes. She moved to his bedside, pushing me aside as if I were nothing more than a piece of furniture. “I'm here, my darling son,” she cooed, taking his hand. “You've been in an accident. You've been so worried about your fiancee, right? She would be here soon.” Just then, as if in cue, Valentina appeared in the doorway, her son was with her again, clutching her hands. She had been waiting in the wings, a perfectly cast actress ready for her scene. “Valentina?” Da
ELOISE. The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of screaming sirens and flashing red lights painting the night. In the back of the ambulance, my hand clutching Dante's, his skin a terrifying, clammy cold. The paramedics voices were a low, urgent sound. I didn't really register what they were saying, a language of stats and vitals I couldn't comprehend. All I understood was the stillness of the man I loved, the slackness of his features under the harsh fluorescent glare. “Please,” I whispered to the universe, to any God that might be listening, my voice a raw thread of sound. “Please, don't take him away from me, not now.” The hospital was a chaotic blur of white coats and blur scrubs. They wheeled him away, a gurney rattling down a long corridor, and a nurse with kind but firm hands guided me to a waiting room. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and quiet despair. I sank into a gold, plastic chair, my body trembling with a violent, uncontrollable shiver that had nothin
ELOISE He didn't raise his voice, but the command was absolute. Defeated, Isabella threw the report back on the table and stormed out of the room, with a weeping Valentina training behind her like a shadow. The silence they left behind was vast and beautiful, I watched Dante, who stood with his back to me, his shoulders tense. He slowly ran a hand over his face, the picture of exhaustion. I stood and walked to him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind and testing my cheek against his strong back. I felt the tension in him begin to ease, his shoulders slumping slightly. He turned in my arms and pulled me into a proper hug, burying his face in my hair. “It's over,” he murmured. “They're gone.” “They're gone.” I repeated, my voice muffled against his chest. I felt safe, ever since Damian had thrown me out, Dante had been my safe space, even before I knew it and acknowledged the fact that I liked him. I felt completely and utterly safe. Later that evening,the house wa






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