LOGINDante’s POVThe sound of Romeo’s footsteps faded down the hall, taking my entire world with them.The grief in her eyes when she looked at me was a physical blade twisting violently in my gut.A small, tentative tug on my pant leg pulled me back from the dark abyss.I looked down. Elara was staring up at me, her dark, soulful eyes swimming with unshed tears. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she clutched the pink fabric of her dress."Papa?" she whispered, her voice impossibly small. "Did I do well? I remembered what you told me. I told her mama was just sleeping."The absolute innocence of her question completely broke me.My knees hit the hardwood floor with a heavy thud. I didn't care about my stoic, bodyguard facade. I reached out and pulled my tiny, brave daughter into my chest, wrapping my massive arms around her shaking frame. I buried my face in her wild, dark curls—curls that were an exact replica of the woman who had just walked away crying."You did so well, piccola mia,"
Hello, dear readers of IFMDTDMH. It’s your author here. I hope you are enjoying the book. We have already come so far of this journey from Isabella escaping Mateo, faking her death (would not recommend in real life), finding Dante, getting blessed with Elara, destroying the monsters of her past to here. This story is very close to my heart. I am trying my best to not to leave any flaws but I am human. So yes, mistakes happen. (And sometimes my characters refuse to behave, which is clearly not my fault.) I apologize. We have a few things to solve before her story concludes. A few more answers, a little more chaos and maybe a little emotional damage (I apologize in advance). I hope you will stay with me till the very end. And if you have any questions, puzzles or emotional damage you would like to report, let me know here in the comment section. I am always watching… I mean, reading. For other inquiries, find me on I***a author_ilma or my f* page Author I.R.
Isabella’s POVRomeo gently turned me away from the sunlit lounge, away from the giant liar and away from the brunette who had just claimed to be his wife.My vision was completely blurred with hot, angry tears. Every single step felt like walking through wet cement. My chest was entirely consumed by a crushing, humiliating grief that I had no right to feel.I was Isabella Santiago. I belonged to Mateo.So why did leaving this room feel like I was leaving my entire world behind?"It’s alright, Isabella." Romeo murmured softly. "Walk slowly and carefully. We are going straight back to bed. I am going to get your vitals checked and…""Mama!"The single word that rose from behind froze my entire body.It wasn't a doctor's voice. It wasn't Irene's. It was a incredibly sweet, and overwhelmingly joyful shout of a little girl.My bare feet stopped moving, and my grip on the IV pole tightened.I heard Romeo curse under his breath, his arm tightening around me as he tried to keep me moving for
Dante’s POVHearing Chiara’s words, my blood ran completely cold. I turned my head around to stare at my sister-in-law. I had no idea if I had heard it right.Chiara held her chin high. Her hands were clenched so tightly at her sides. She wouldn't look at me. Her dark eyes were locked entirely on my actual wife, feeding her a lie so poisonous, so utterly destructive, that it took every ounce of my restraint not to shatter the room with a roar.Why was she doing this? Was this her twisted, panicked way of protecting Isabella’s fragile brain? Giving her a neat, tidy explanation for the embrace so Isabella wouldn't try to dig for the missing eight years? Or was it something darker… a desperate manifestation of whatever the hell had just happened when she fell against my chest?It didn't matter. I wasn't going to let her break my wife's heart."Chiara." I growled, warning her. "Do not do this. Stop talking right now."I turned back to Isabella, lifting my hands in a desperate, pleading g
Isabella’s POVI gripped the cold metal of the IV pole so tightly my fingers cramped, but it was the only thing keeping my knees from completely buckling.My chest felt painfully tight, as if invisible claws were wrapping around my ribs, slowly suffocating me.I stared at the giant man standing in the center of the room. The man who had spent the last few days standing like a stone in the darkest corner of my bedroom. The man who had wrapped his arms around me when my brain felt like it was tearing itself apart, whispering that I was safe. The man who had looked me dead in the eyes and sworn he worshipped the ground his missing wife walked on.Yet here he was.The same hands I had clung to during my panic attack were wrapped around the waist of a beautiful brunette. He was holding her against his chest, absorbing her weight effortlessly. And she looked completely captivated. Her fingers were curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt. Her cheeks were painted with a deep flush as sh
Dante’s POVThree days had passed since Isabella’s mind had nearly torn itself apart trying to bridge the eight-year gap in her memory.Three agonizing, suffocating days.Under Romeo's strict orders, we had kept her environment completely stress-free. No more questions. No more puzzles.I had gone back to playing the shadow, playing the distant bodyguard whenever I was in her room, speaking only when spoken to. It was a torture unlike any other to be mere feet away from the woman I loved more than oxygen, and be entirely unable to touch her. To keep myself from losing my mind, I spent the afternoons in the private, sunlit lounge at the end of the south wing, watching the only other things that kept my heart beating."No, Zia Chiara! The blue pillow goes on the very top! It's the roof!" Elara’s bright giggle echoed off the high ceilings of the lounge.I sat in a leather armchair in the corner of the room with a cup of cold, black coffee resting on my knee. I was currently watching my
Dante Galante’s POV Three weeks ago, I walked onto the floor of the Security Operations Center, intending to fire half the staff. The noise was getting worse day by day. Every type on keyboard sounded like a drill on my head. Every flickering LED felt like a lightning strike. My vision was weaken
Mateo’s POVI didn't even think. I climbed over the railing, sliding and falling down the steep hill. Rocks cut me. My suit was torn. There was blood on my hands. But I did not feel pain.By the time, I reached the bottom, the car was all on fire. The air around it smelled of gas and burning leathe
Isabella’s (Alessia’s) POV "...Ed ora, le ultime notizie sulla tragedia che ha scosso il mondo degli affari a New York," the news anchor said, her voice smooth and professional. "La polizia conferma che il corpo ritrovato nel relitto dell'auto sulla scogliera è di Isabella Santiago. Il marito, il
Isabella’s POV “Divorce papers.” Henderson said, reading the title. “You want to file against Mateo Santiago? The billionaire?” He gasped a little. “Mrs. Santiago, I can’t fight his lawyers.” “You don't need to fight.” I said I handed him another pile of cash. “I have already signed them. I am g







