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Chapter Seven

Author: Carabella
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-09-15 19:33:03

The dining room was too quiet.

Not completely silent though,there was the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway, the low hum of the chandelier’s bulbs, the clink of silverware being set in place by a servant who moved quickly, efficiently, like even his footsteps were afraid to linger. But to me, the silence was louder than anything.

I followed Matteo down the stairs, his broad frame cutting an easy path while mine trailed behind, stiff and hesitant. His hand brushed the polishe
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Mga Comments (3)
goodnovel comment avatar
Mabel
chin up baby gurl
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elara
poor boo,chin up babe
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Anna-Marie
Aww Alessia chin up
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  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Eighty-Eight

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  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Eighty Seven

    Alessia's POV The week unfolded beautifully despite the tension that lingered between us.We stayed in the hotel suite, cut off from the world. Salvatore arranged everything with quiet efficiency: meals delivered three times a day, fresh linens, my favorite tea, even a small sewing machine when I mentioned wanting to work on sketches. He turned the sitting area into a temporary studio, moving furniture without complaint, laying out bolts of fabric he must have had delivered overnight.He was there for every breath I took.He woke before me, brought breakfast on a tray, fed me small bites when bending forward pulled at my ribs. He changed dressings with the same steady hands that had once held guns, applied arnica to fading bruises, held compresses to my swollen cheek until the ache eased. When nightmares dragged me from sleep,he was already awake, pulling me against his chest, murmuring soft words in dialect until I drifted off again.He ignored every phone call.The screen lit const

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  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Eighty Five

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  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Eighty Four

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  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Eighty Three

    Alessia’s POVI squeezed my eyes shut.The metal barrel pressed cold and steady against my forehead. I could feel the ridged texture of the silencer, the faint vibration of the man’s hand. My heart thundered so violently I thought it might burst before the bullet did. Every breath tasted like blood and dust. Every second stretched into eternity.I waited for the end.For the pressure. For the flash and for death. But nothing came.Only a soft, metallic click.The gun was empty. A beat of stunned silence.Then the man holding my hair cursed under his breath. “Merda.”The woman snarled from somewhere behind him. “You idiot! Reload!”The pressure on my scalp eased as the man shifted, fumbling. My head fell forward, chin to chest. I sucked in a ragged breath, it was a half-sob and a half-laugh. I was alive, for now.And then the world exploded.Gunfire erupted outside. I heard shouts in Italian. The crash of a metal door made me jerk.The kidnappers spun toward the noise.“Che cazzo—” one

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