LOGIN(Authorâs POV) The call came the following morning. Celeste was seated at her desk inside the Aetheris Biotech laboratory, reviewing a stack of printed data reports, when her phone buzzed with Sebastian Argentieriâs number across the screen. âGood news,â he said the moment she answered. âThe Argentieri family returned the funds. All five hundred million. The transfer came through this morning.â She leaned back slowly in her chair. âSo quickly?â âThey moved faster than I expected. Apparently nobody enjoys being on the receiving end of a Sebastian legal filing.â She could hear the amusement in his voice. âDonât thank me too enthusiastically. I earn a percentage if we win. My motives are entirely selfish.â Celeste laughed softly, and some of the tension she had carried since her meeting with Stefan loosened slightly. âEven so,â she said, âthank you.â âNow that weâve finished pretending gratitude matters,â Sebastian continued, âcompletely unrelated subject. A friend ga
(Authorâs POV) Celeste refused to go herself. So Lavinia went instead. She appeared at the entrance of the conference room on the fourteenth floor of Moretti Holdings, clutching her handbag tightly in both hands, her face arranged into something between apology and desperation. Tiziana looked up from the table and immediately felt a flicker of distaste pass through her before she could suppress it. This woman. This housekeeper. She remembered Lavinia from the Moretti estate. A plain, exhausted woman who had spent years raising other peopleâs children, including Tiziana herself until the age of ten. Back then, Tiziana had tolerated her presence the same way one tolerated furniture. The warmth she had shown Lavinia over the past few weeks had been exactly what Celeste suspected it was. A performance. A carefully calculated act designed to unsettle Celeste and remind her that even her own mother could be turned against her. The objective had already been accomplished.
(Authorâs POV) Tiziana had spent three entire days beside Adelinaâs hospital bed, and she had not wasted a single minute of it. She adjusted pillows before Adelina could ask. She brought meals from the restaurant Adelina preferred. She sat patiently through the dragging afternoon hours without complaint, summoning nurses the instant Adelinaâs water glass looked less than half full. She played the role of the devoted, selfless daughter flawlessly, with the ease of someone who had practiced it all her life. Stefano came every day. And he noticed. With each visit, his attitude toward Tiziana softened visibly. The careful restraint he usually maintained around her loosened little by little every time he walked into the room. Tiziana noticed every subtle shift and quietly stored each one away. But Adelina herself remained unmoved. What sat heavily in Adelinaâs chest was the memory of five hundred million dollars. Not five hundred. Not five thousand. Five hundred million. Money
(Celeste Morettiâs POV) He carried me back inside and set me down on the sofa with the same calm efficiency he brought to everything. The fireplace cast warm amber light across the room, flickering softly against the walls. He crouched in front of me until we were eye level. For a long moment, Vincenzo said nothing at all. Then finally, in a low rough voice barely above a murmur, he spoke. âWhen the divorce judgment comes through,â he said quietly, âwill you come with me to the registry office?â I blinked. The warmth from the champagne seemed to disappear instantly. I sat up straighter. âWhat did you just say?â He did not repeat himself. He only held my gaze steadily, completely unshaken, with an expression I had never seen on him before. It was not cold. Not calculated. Just certain. âI have never asked anyone this before,â he said. âAnd after you, I will never ask anyone else.â He paused briefly. âI want you. I need a wife. I want that person to be you.â His grey eyes s
(Authorâs POV) She had never heard him speak to her in that tone before. Flat. Calm. Measured. Like he had already processed the emotion and was now simply stating a fact. Tizianaâs eyes immediately filled with tears. They came the way they always did whenever she needed them to. Fast. Convincing. Perfectly timed. âDo you have any idea what that day was like for me?â she asked, her voice cracking right on cue. âAdelina stood in front of everyone and blamed me publicly, like I was some kind of criminal. I went home shaking. Iâve spent the last three days trying to hold myself together, and all I wanted was you. But you werenât there.â Stefano looked at her quietly. âHow is she doing?â Tiziana asked after a moment. âWhat did the doctors say?â âShe should be discharged in about a week.â âThen go home,â Tiziana said softly. âBe with Bianca. She needs you. Iâll stay here with Adelina.â Stefano remained silent for a brief moment before standing up. He picked up his jacket from th
(Authorâs POV) Celeste walked to the door. She opened it. Then she stepped out and closed it quietly behind her. There was no slam, only a soft final click that somehow felt heavier than anger. For a moment, the hallway remained silent. Then Luca heard his own voice rising from inside the room, followed almost immediately by Laviniaâs sharper tone rising to meet it. Celeste did not turn back. Luca stared at the closed door and felt something tighten painfully inside his chest. Slowly, he turned toward his mother. Lavinia was trembling. Her hands shook visibly at her sides, along with the rigid line of her shoulders and mouth. âSheâll come back,â Lavinia said, her voice edged with brittle certainty. âGive her three days. Sheâll come crawling back to apologize. She always does.â Luca looked at her silently. Then his gaze shifted toward the dining table. The roast chicken had already gone cold. The mashed potatoes sat untouched beside the untouched salad bowl, the carefully







