Masuk~A week later~
Mateo’s POV “Work, Bella. It’s always work. You know how the merger is killing me these days.” I pinched the bridge of my nose as I leaned back in my leather chair. “I know, Mateo.” Isabella said softly. Before, that softness used to make me feel strong. Lately, it only made me feel tired. “It’s just… dinner is getting cold. Again.” “I was wrapping up.” I lied easily. The merger had ended days ago. “I would be home by six. Exactly six. I promise.” I didn’t wait for her to reply. I ended the call and dropped my phone onto the desk. It slid smoothly and stopped beside my glass of scotch. Six o’clock. I glanced at my watch. I still had plenty of time. A faint smirk crossed my lips. She was still the same. The same clingy, always waiting, always worrying wife. Part of me hated it. But another part of me liked the attention. It reminded me that I was the center of her world. I took a slow drink of scotch as my thoughts shifted to Valentina. With her, it was different. Isabella was calm water. Valentina was fire. She was hunger, desire without rules. She was everything I could never bring home to my wife. But that was all she was meant to be. A release. My heart still belonged to Isabella. It always had. I had needs, yes, but I wasn’t heartless. I knew where my home was. My phone hummed again. The caller id flashed Valentina. I let it buzz twice before answering and put it on speaker. I stood up, adjusting my cufflinks. “What?” “You sound tense, darling.” She purred. “Come over. I bought that black lace slip you like. The one almost transparent…” I paused for a moment, the image flashing in my mind. But I looked at the clock. 5:15. “Not tonight.” I said flatly. “I’m going home.” “Home?” Her voice sharpened. “To her? Again? You said you were free tonight.” “Plans change,” I said, picking up my suit jacket. “I’m going back to Santiago Manor.” She stayed silent only for a moment. Then, “Do you feel nothing, Mateo?” She asked. “When you leave my bed to go to hers… do you feel nothing at all?” I sighed, already annoyed. “Don’t start this, Valentina.” “Don’t do what?” She cried. “Ask if I mattered? After everything we did together?” “I feel satisfaction with you.” I said coldly. “That’s what you are for. That was the deal.” “The deal?” She sobbed loudly now. “I love you, Mateo.” The words irritated me. I took the phone off speaker and pressed it to my ear. “Know your place.” I reminded her. “I used you to satisfy my desires. Nothing more. I would give you money. Jewelry. An apartment. But love? You would never get that from me.” “How could you say that?” She cried. “Because it is true,” I answered. “I only love Bella. She is my wife. You are… just a distraction.” “A distraction?” she screamed. “We are perfect together! You said it yourself! We are so in sync! Seven times, Mateo. Seven times in one night! You don't do with someone you don't care about.” “I did that with someone who was good at what she did.” I said, checking my reflection in the glass. “That wasn’t love. It was just sex. Physical. Understand that, or this ended.” I hung up without waiting for her answer. I adjusted my collar and shook my head. Women always made things complicated. I had everything balanced perfectly. Why did they always want more? I picked up my briefcase and headed for the door. Then my phone vibrated. I frowned. If Valentina was begging again, I planned to block her number. I unlocked the screen. It wasn’t a message but an image. I stopped walking, freezing as I saw it. On the screen was a medical report. Patient: Valentina Rossi Test: hCG Result: Positive Gestational Age: 6 weeks I stared at it. My vision blurred, then cleared. Seven times in one night. Her words echoed in my head. My briefcase slipped from my hand and hit the floor. I didn’t react. I didn't know what to do. I just stood there, in the middle of everything I had built, staring at the screen. She was pregnant. And for the first time in years, I didn’t know what to do. Isabella’s POV I had given the staff the day off. It was a tradition. I had been following it for three years now. Every anniversary, I wanted it to be just us. No servants. No watching eyes. Just Mateo and me. The thought tasted bitter in my mouth. Earlier in the afternoon, Mrs. Higgins had stopped me in the kitchen. She smiled so warmly it almost hurt to look at her. “Oh, Madam.” She said, shaking her head in admiration. “You are so lucky. Mr. Santiago works himself to the bone, yet he never forgets you. Flowers, kind words, always attentive. A devoted husband like that is rare these days.” I had smiled back. I had even laughed. I let her believe the lie. The truth was too ugly to wear in daylight. In this city, we were the perfect couple. No one knew that the “merger” keeping him away tonight likely smelled of lace and carried the perfume of my own step‑aunt. I shook the thought away as I stopped at the table. I had prepared everything he loved. The beef bourguignon he always praised. The Bordeaux I hunted down from a private collector because he once mentioned it casually. Candles burned low, dripping slowly onto the lace tablecloth. The clock ticked on Seven. Then eight. Then nine. My phone vibrated. A chuckle left my lips. I expected it much later. Mateo: Bella, I’m so sorry. Something urgent came up at the office. A problem with the overseas accounts. I won’t make it back tonight. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow with a gift. Let’s plan that Mediterranean cruise next month. Sleep well. I read it once. Then I laughed. The pattern was so familiar it made me laugh. I looked at the two places set at the table. For years, I had shaped my life around him. I had learned how to wait. How to be quiet. How to fold myself into the spaces he left behind. I told myself that if I was more patient, more beautiful, more understanding, he would eventually come home fully. My hand drifted slowly to my stomach. It was still flat. But I knew it was there. The small presence. A secret I had planned to reveal tonight. “It’s just us.” I whispered. “You and me.” My voice cracked a bit. The sadness inside me cooled as the realization hit. I wasn’t only a wife anymore. I was a mother. “We’ll leave your daddy.” I said quietly as I smoothed my hand over my belly. “I’ll give you more than enough love. We don’t need a man who prefers another woman’s bed to his own home.” I picked up my phone. My fingers were calm as I typed. To Mateo: Okay. I understand. By the way, your birthday is in a month from now. I’ve already started planning something special. I promise it will be a gift you’ll never forget. Love you. I sent it. He would read it and smile. He would think I was still the same devoted wife, planning his happiness months in advance. He wouldn’t realize that one month was exactly how long I needed.RomeoThe glass of scotch sitting on the mahogany dresser had been there for ten minutes.This time, I picked it up. I didn’t need it to numb the pain, and I wasn't staring at it out of a desperate need to escape my own mind. I raised the crystal glass and took a smooth, burning swallow.A hand clapped down on my shoulder, nearly making me spill the rest."Easy, Doctor…" Dante’s deep, rumbling voice echoed in the room. I looked at my older brother through the mirror. He looked sharp in his tailored black tuxedo but the entirely uncharacteristic grin on his face ruined his intimidating Loscuro aura completely. "You need to be upright for the ceremony. Galantes don't have the record to pass out before the vows.""I am perfectly sober, Dante." I muttered, setting the glass down and adjusting the cuffs of my crisp white shirt. "And I am not going to pass out.""You are sweating.""It's a heavy suit."Dante didn't look convinced. He leaned against the dresser and crossing his arms. "You
IreneJulian stopped right in front of us, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked down at me, his face dead serious.“You are saying yes to this?” Julian asked, gesturing vaguely at Romeo, who was still kneeling in the dirt.My stomach dropped into my shoes.Julian. The man who had spent the last few months actively trying to win my attention. I had pushed him away, completely ditching him every single time he tried to get close because my heart had been entirely trapped by the doctor currently glaring up at him.I braced myself. He was here to blame me. He was going to make a massive scene about how I had led him on, or how I had wasted his time only to run back to the Galante family.For three agonizing seconds, Julian stared at me with a hard, unreadable gaze.Then, a completely ridiculous grin broke across his face."I mean, look at him," Julian joked, his serious facade instantly melting away. "The guy is crying in the dirt, Irene. Are you sure you don't want a do-over? I ow
IreneThe silence of the garden rushed back in, but it didn’t feel suffocating anymore. It felt vast. It felt empty, like a blank canvas waiting for us to finally start writing something new.I looked down at him, this proud, complicated, beautiful man who had spent years running from his own reflection, now completely on his knees in the dirt, offering me his entire soul without a single shield left to hide behind.Adrian had been a cage that demanded my submission. Romeo’s past had been a cage that demanded my silence.But this? The way he was looking at me right now, completely stripped bare, begging me to just let him love me? This wasn’t a cage at all. This was the open sky.“Irene?” he prompted softly, a flicker of panic crossing his face when I didn’t answer right away.A choked, watery laugh broke out of my throat. The tears came fast then, hot and blinding, blurring the image of the ring and the man holding it.“Yes,” I sobbed, stepping forward and instantly dropping to my kn
IreneThe present opening lasted for another hour.I stayed near the edge of the patio, leaning against a stone pillar, tracking Romeo's every movement. He helped Elara unwrap a massive, intricate dollhouse, handling the fragile plastic pieces with the exact same focus he used in the operating room. But he was still distracted. Twice, he looked around the yard until his eyes found mine, holding my gaze for a long, heavy second before Dante intentionally bumped his shoulder to snap him out of it.Dante gave him a knowing, subtle smirk—a look so rare on my brother-in-law's face it made my internal alarms go off.Then I noticed Isabella. She was watching me from across the lawn, a soft, secret smile playing on her lips. She didn't look confused or detached anymore. She looked like someone who knew a secret I was completely blind to.They are all in on it, I realized, my chest tightening with a sudden, nervous flutter. Whatever is wrong with him, the whole family knows.As the sun final
IreneThe Galante estate did not look like a mafia fortress today.Pink and gold balloons floated above the sprawling gardens and the usually quiet stone courtyards echoed with the loud, joyful screams of children running through the grass. Elara was at the center of it all, spinning in a sparkly tulle dress that Dante had probably paid a ridiculous amount of money for.Standing near the patio, I watched Isabella hand out slices of birthday cake. Dante stood right behind her, his hand resting gently on her waist. Isabella was laughing, her eyes bright and clear, back to the woman who held this entire family together.Everything was perfect.Except for Romeo.I took a sip of my sparkling water, my eyes scanning the crowd until I finally spotted him standing near the stone archway of the rose garden.He looked incredible, as always, wearing a crisp white button-down shirt and dark slacks. But something was completely off. The calm doctor who never cracked under pressure was currently
IreneA month can do a lot to a person. Thirty days of quiet routines, of waking up without the scent of antiseptic burning the back of your throat, of learning how to breathe without waiting for the other shoe to drop.For five years, my life had been dictated by the shifting tides of the Galante estate. But tonight, the world shrank down to the size of my small kitchen table, a mismatched deck of cards on the counter, and the click of wooden chess pieces.“You are stalling…” I said, leaning my chin on my palm.Romeo didn’t look up from the board. He was sitting on one of my cheap wooden chairs, looking entirely out of place and yet completely at ease. Tonight, he was wearing a simple charcoal sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing the thick veins in his forearms.“I am not stalling, firecracker.” he murmured, his thumb tracing the top of his knight. “I am analyzing. There is a difference.”“You have been analyzing that specific knight for four minutes.”“It’s
Dante’s POVI felt her stiffen next to me. Her breathing stopped.I looked down at her. Her face had gone pale, the blood draining away so fast she looked like a statue. She was staring straight ahead. Her eyes were wide with a terror I had never seen in her before."Bella?" I whispered as I leaned
Isabella’s POVHearing my questions, Dante tensed up, and for a terrifying second, I thought I had crossed an unspoken line.I meant… you don’t just ask a lethal, tattooed bodyguard about his family. I pulled the white hospital blanket a little higher, suddenly feeling very small."I am sorry.” I
A week later…Isabella’s POV"Your vitals are exceptionally strong today, Isabella. The internal bruising is healing beautifully, and your blood volume has finally stabilized."Romeo said as he unclipped the medical chart from the end of my bed. He offered me a warm, reassuring smile, though the da
Isabella’s POVHearing Romeo’s words, Irene’s jaw tightened. She immediately looked away, her posture going entirely rigid. What the hell was he apologizing for? My mind went blank. She crossed her arms over her chest. "There is nothing to apologize for, Dr. Galante." Irene said. Her voice was ic







