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2025-12-31 21:43:50
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I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband I am looking
RomeoThe clock on my office wall read 2:45 AM.I had spent the last three hours in Delivery Room Four managing a complicated twin birth. Both babies were stable now, transferred safely to the neonatal intensive care unit, and their mother was finally resting after nearly twelve hours of labor and surgical intervention.My scrubs were damp with sweat. My shoulders ached from tension and exhaustion, and my brain felt like it was operating several seconds behind the rest of my body.All I wanted was black coffee and silence.But when I returned to the Galante estate, I did not go to the kitchen or upstairs to sleep.Instead, I walked toward the secure basement level, drawn by an entirely different kind of responsibility.The steel door to the operations room slid open.The room beyond was dark except for the glow of monitors spread across an entire wall. Live camera feeds flickered beside encrypted code streams and thermal maps tracking our properties across Europe. Blue and green light
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband Heat
Irene I was going to let him do it.I was entirely ready to let the fire consume the whole goddamn house.His face hovered inches from mine, close enough that I could feel the uneven hitch of his breathing against my skin. Close enough that the world beyond him faded into static.His eyes were dark. There was nothing cold left in them now. Nothing carefully controlled. What remained was raw enough to terrify me.My hands tightened in the lapels of his shirt, gripping the expensive black fabric like it was the only thing keeping me upright. My pulse was pounding so violently I could feel it behind my eyes.I tilted my chin upward and closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable catastrophe of Romeo Galante kissing me.His hand shifted against my waist before slowly sliding upward, spanning the side of my throat and settling against my jaw. Warm fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me with terrifying gentleness. Then his thumb moved, pressing against the cent
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband The dance
Irene burst into laughter so suddenly and brightly that several people nearby turned to look at us. “Romeo.” she said between laughs, “That is shockingly petty for a man of science.”“I am observing objective data.”“You are jealous.”“I am not jealous.”“You absolutely are.”“Irene,” I said evenly, “the man paired a navy blazer with black shoes. I am experiencing a completely rational response to a preventable offense.”Her eyes danced.God help me, they danced.“Well…” she said lightly, “the fashion criminal is currently trapped behind a bachelorette party at the bar, and this song is excellent.”Before I could respond, she stood abruptly and leaned over the table toward me.The neckline of her dress shifted dangerously.Every coherent thought in my brain immediately ceased functioning.“Come on,” she said.Alarm bells detonated across my nervous system. “Come on where?”“Dance with me.”“Irene,” I began carefully, “I can’t…”“Oh my God,” she interrupted. “Stop being mean. Come.”Th
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RomeoIn epidemiology, an environmental hazard is any outside factor that disrupts the balance of a system. You do not negotiate with a hazard. You contain it, remove it, or get as far away from it as possible before damage occurs.A crowded cocktail lounge in Trastevere on a Friday night was an environmental hazard.I was only there because my Chief of Surgery had ordered me to “act like a human being for once” after a brutal fourteen-hour craniotomy.So I compromised.I took the most isolated booth in the building, ordered a single glass of scotch, and planned to spend twenty minutes staring at melting ice before returning to my penthouse.The room was loud enough to qualify as a medical concern.Bass vibrated through the floorboards. Colored lights flashed across the walls. The air smelled like expensive perfume, alcohol, and poor decision-making.At the table beside me, two women in designer dresses had been trying to get my attention for the last ten minutes through increasingly
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband Private
### Chapter 43: Structural Integrity**Irene**My emotional firewall hadn’t just experienced a minor glitch; it had suffered a catastrophic grid failure.For five years, that system had been flawless. It had survived family dinners, shared holiday toasts, and endless weekends of watching Romeo Rossi exist in my peripheral vision without a single breach. But apparently, all it took to trigger a complete meltdown was a plastic toy, the scent of expensive cedarwood, and a pair of hazel eyes burning a hole straight through my carefully constructed armor.*Terminal.*God, why did I say that out loud? I needed to ban myself from speaking under the influence of his proximity.Fortunately, when you are dealing with a five-year-old Galante, you don't have time to dwell on your near-fatal lapses in judgment. Elara was already demanding a secondary diagnosis."Auntie Ren," Elara protested, stamping her tiny sneaker onto the woven blanket. "If Zio Romeo is fine, why is his face so red? Is he turn
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband Terminal
RomeoIt happened on a Sunday afternoon in the Borghese Gardens.The kind of day that makes Rome feel deceptively harmless. Late spring sunlight filtering through the tall stone pines, scattering gold across the grass in soft, trembling patches. The air carried the smell of crushed leaves, distant espresso, and river wind.Dante and Isabella had wandered off toward the fountains with the kind of casual negligence only parents of a highly confident child could afford. That left Irene and me on a wide woven blanket with Elara.“Zio Romeo.” Elara announced, as if issuing a court summons.She dropped a plastic, aggressively colorful stethoscope onto my chest with zero regard for consent or medical ethics.“You are sick.” she declared. “Zia Ren is the doctor today. You have to lie still.”I looked up slowly.Irene was sitting cross-legged on the blanket, sunlight catching in her dark hair. She wore a thin white linen sundress that made absolutely no effort to protect my sanity and a smea
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband She isn’t adopted, is she?
Isabella’s POVThe heavy doors creaked open before I could even catch my breath. Suddenly, everything narrowed. The party's music, the strong smell of lilies, the people talking – it all just disappeared.Two people stood in the doorway. It was Irene, looking confused. And holding her hand, wearin
Huling Na-update : 2026-03-26I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband The little boy
Isabella’s POVThe ballroom looked just as I remembered. The sparkly chandeliers, those huge velvet curtains that went all the way to the ceiling, the shiny marble floor where I could see my reflection on my wedding. But tonight, it felt like a place for the dead. White lilies were all over the pl
Huling Na-update : 2026-03-26I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband He sees her everywhere
Isabella’s POVThe moment Dante disappeared into the sea of tuxedos and gowns, the invisible wire holding me upright snapped.I collapsed on the velvet stool and clenched my hands tightly in my lap, acting the part of the bored, elegant Italian heiress. But beneath the fabric of my dress, my skin w
Huling Na-update : 2026-03-25I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband Special Invitation
Mateo’s POV3:00 AM. The Santiago Penthouse.I poured another glass of vodka. The crystal decanter clinked by the trembling of my hand.The apartment was silent but inside my head, there was chaos. Too much chaos.I loved you.I had said it. I had screamed it in a room full of elites. And she had l
Huling Na-update : 2026-03-25
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