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The Bride He Bought
The Bride He Bought
ผู้แต่ง: Krissy Writ3s

Chapter 1

ผู้เขียน: Krissy Writ3s
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-07-01 04:20:30

𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼

What is stupidity? Stupidity is deciding to confront your father’s nemesis instead of being at the only job that keeps the lights on. Stupidity is marching into Moretti Towers with nothing but anger and a handful of courage from how triggered you are from a single post. That’s where I am right now, stupid, reckless, and I've thrown the consequences of what im about to do, out the window

Currently, I'm still outside the building, looking up at the tall sky scraper. There's still time for me to let go of this foolishness and just go to work. But I won't. I've come too far to back out now.

I smooth down my shirt and I walk in.

Immediately I pass through those revolving doors, I'm instantly taken aback by how cold it is in here. Shivering a little, I make my way towards the receptionist desk.

“Hi,” I say, barely above a whisper. “I’d like to see Mr. Moretti.”

The too polished receptionist looks up from her desk. Her eyes scan me, pause at my shoes, and then my unruly curls.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. But he knows who I am.”

That’s a lie. He doesn't know who I am, but he should know my father.

Her smile is all condescension. “Mr. Moretti doesn’t take walk-ins.”

“I just need five minutes.”

“Then email his office.”

“I...look, please. Just tell him Alera Vance is here. He’ll know what to do.

“Ma’am.” Her smile drops. “You need to leave. Now.”

I freeze.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a man in a suit slowing down near the elevator and a woman in blue, near the lounge. They both turn to stare.

I get an odd uncomfortable feeling from the eyes currently on me. I look back at the reception.

"Please Miss. It's very urgent I see him. Just...you can send him a notice. He'll know who I am?" I plead.

She doesn't respond, instead, I see her press something under the desk.

Security.

I step back just as two men in uniform approach.

“This way, ma’am.”

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” I say quickly, trying to smile. “I just...please, can you just tell him”

But they’re already walking me out. Their grips aren’t rough, but it still feels like I’m being shoved.

The moment the doors close behind me, the tears come. I blink hard, refusing to let them fall.

I should’ve just gone to work.

I wipe under my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. My stomach twists when I think of the time.

"What a waste of time."

I wipe my eyes again, sniffing, avoiding the eyes zoning in on me.

I move forward a little, then back again, a few people curse at me and I whisper an apology, but they are already moving ahead. I scratch the side of my ear. I should probably just go home. There's no way I can make it to the store today. I'll tell her I'm sick.

Just as I'm settling these thoughts in my mind, the doors begin to move again, I turn and I'm faced with a group of suited men walking out the door.

There are two men walking ahead, but my focus is on the third one, looking down at his phone as he walks out behind them.

It's Dante Moretti.

I'm in disbelief. His stupidly rude receptionist just threw me out because I don't have an appointment with the almighty bastard. I can't believe my luck.

He and the men head toward a sleek vehicle, signaling how quickly I can loose this luck if I don't act now.

The anger from seeing him moving like he owns the world pushes me forward and without thinking, my small voice calls out. "Hello!”

“Mr. Moretti?”

"Mr Moretti!"

The two men turn first and they come towards me and instantly keep me from getting any closer to Dante.

“Hey! Let go!”

I yank my arm, but the suits gripping me don’t care. I push forward anyway, shouting past their shoulders. “I just need to talk to him! He knows me!”

One of them shoves me back. “Miss, step away.”

“I said..." My voice cracks, but I push through. “...I just want to speak to him!”

They don’t even look at me. They’re focused on getting me out of sight before he notices.

So I do the only thing left. Which is the stupidest thing I've done today.

“You fucking thief!” The words tear out of me before I can stop them. “Answer me!”

Everything around me pauses. The guards freeze, and a few people on the sidewalk slow down just to watch me embarrass myself.

The attention instantly weakens my resolve, but it's too late to back out now, because Dante Moretti ,the man who destroyed my father’s company three years ago, slowly turns towards me.

And instantly, my throat dries up.

The photos online didn’t prepare me for this. Not even close. Neither did my memory of when he was within my vicinity, do justice to the man facing me right now. He's alot taller than I remembered or was it just me that grew shorter? He's definitely more broader too. And so handsome it’s so distracting I almost forget why I’m here.

Almost.

He lifts one hand, flickers a finger and the men holding me back release me instantly. I yank my arm free, rubbing the sore spot where one of them had dug in.

But when he starts walking toward me, I freeze up. I will my legs to move, but they refuse, keeping me rooted in one spot. Heck all the bravery I marched in with all gone.

He’s close now. And looking down at me like I’m some insect that wandered into his perfect world.

And his eyes, icy blue, cold enough to make me shiver, pin me in place. I want to run, but I can’t. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

He doesn’t say a word. With the way he's staring down at me, I can’t tell if there’s recognition in his eyes or nothing at all.

Then, suddenly, his focus shifts. And he's looking over shoulder.

My instinct is to turn, but before I can move, his hands land firmly on my shoulders. They steady me in place.

His thumb hooks under my chin, forcing my head up. My eyes widen at the contact.

“Stay calm,” his Italian accented voice drawls.

"Wh–".

He doesn't let me finish my sentence and he slams his mouth onto mine.

This busy street in Manhattan goes into abrupt silent.

My brain short circuits, I stop breathing. And all I can think is...

Oh. Shit.

Dante Moretti is kissing me, right in front of random passers by.

And in all my stupidity today, nothing would have ever prepared me for the bizarre turn of events.

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  • The Bride He Bought    Chapter 50

    𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀 I spend the next three days setting the stage. Kingsley thinks his company is stable, but I’ve worked with many men like him before, men who build empires on paper and lies. They balance on webs so thin it only takes the right weight to collapse everything. First, I send in auditors through a subsidiary no one can trace back to me. Within forty eight hours, they deliver a feast of evidence, which include, falsified vendor contracts, inflated invoices and shell companies siphoning cash offshore. Classic fraud. Just I've been suspecting. The timing is just perfect. Kingsley has been bragging about a pending partnership with a French logistics group. He believes this alliance will restore investor confidence. I decide it will be the perfect stage for his downfall. During those days, I barely exchange a handful of words with Alera. We move through the penthouse like strangers, as if I hadn't had my tounge plunged in her warmness nights ago. We just pass each other, but

  • The Bride He Bought    Chapter 49

    𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀 Moments later, the door is pushed to the side and Kacie steps in. She moves aside and holds the frame as though reluctant to invite what waits in the hall. Right after her, walks in Glover Vance. He leans heavily on a walker, and a woman with wavy black hair, braces an elbow to guide him forward. His body is bent. Once, I remember, how he carried himself like he was untouchable with his shoulders straight and constantly locked jaw. Now he looks like a shell of that man, with sallow skin and lips tight with effort as he makes his way into my office. The only thing that's reminiscent of the man I knew, is his steel grey eyes, eeringly similar to Alera's. For a flicker of a second, I feel pity for him. His illness has really done a number on him. But the pity dies as quickly as it sparks. He wanted this audience. And judging by the fury already simmering in his eyes, he didn’t come here for sympathy. I dismiss the woman by his side with a nod. She hesitates but obe

  • The Bride He Bought    Chapter 48

    𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀 Before I can register what's happening, her trembling lips press against mine. For a moment, I just sit still, completely flabbergasted. That Alera Vance, this stubborn, guarded, sharp tongued woman is kissing me. On her own free will. She pulls back almost instantly, her eyes darting to mine and I can see the moment she starts regretting her actions. Her next statement proves me just right. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. "I shouldn't have..." Sorry? That word does something violent to me. She doesn't get to start something and back off, and before I can stop myself, my hand slides to the back of her neck. I tug her forward, and this time I take her mouth fully. Her soft lips move urgently against mine. They drag and press like she can’t get enough. I kiss her harder, our mouths sliding together in quick, hungry pulls until I force her open with my tongue. She's faintly sweet and salty from her tears. It's an intoxicating combination. She doesn’t just let me in, s

  • The Bride He Bought    Chapter 47

    𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼The next few days feel like a copy of the last. It starts the same, with me, waking up with a pit in my stomach and going back to bed with a much bigger pit and a heart sunken right in there. Life has become so dull, where every waking and sleeping thought circles back to my father. I call, text, and Dad doesn't give me a life line. It's so bad, I have to beg Marisol for updates. She tells me when he’s eating, and if the treatments are continuing. But when I try to see him, he refuses me. He won’t even let me into the room. My life feels like it’s hanging by a thread, and that thread is Marisol. She’s the only one standing between my father, his anger and his gradual refusal to accept care, because of course he'll start to do that. He wants nothing to do with Dante, even if his money is the one thing keeping him alive now. Daily, I beg Marisol not to let him walk away from treatment. And everytime she calls to update me, my grief is always met with relief because she's

  • The Bride He Bought    Chapter 46

    𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀 I shouldn’t be here. That’s the first thought that crosses my mind as I slow down in front of Alera’s apartment building. I should be home, probably on the jet back to Milan. Celebrating that finally, the media doesn't have its watchful gaze on me anymore. But on the dumb woman that tried to set me up. But I can't even enjoy that because, since Alera landed in New York barely an hour ago, its been silence from her end. No calls or texts to update me on the reason she rushed back here. And this singular fact, gnaws at me in ways I can’t even begin to justify. What if something happened to her father? What if something happened to her? I circle toward the parking space, rehearsing what I’ll do, call her, make her come down and get whatever information I need. But then I see a lone figure, hunched against the wall, with shaking shoulders. Even from this distance, I know the bounce of her hair. My gut twists. I don’t bother parking properly. I kill the engine,

  • The Bride He Bought    Chapter 45

    𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼 My heart stops dead in its tracks as soon as those words leave his mouth. Wedding? What wedding? For a split second, those words sound wrong like a glitch in reality. Then the meaning rams into me, and it knocks the air right out of my lungs. I whip around to Marisol. She’s stiffly standing by the door with her book pressed against her chest like a shield. There’s an apologetic tilt to her eyes, but it’s laced with curiosity. She knew this was going to happen. “Da… Dad? What are you talking about?” My voice cracks, higher than I intend. He doesn’t answer right away. He just keeps staring out the window. My heart’s thumping so loudly I’m sure Marisol can hear it too. This can’t be happening. He doesn’t know. He can’t know. A tear plops down my cheek before I can stop it. “Dad,” I plead. Finally, he turns his head toward me. His eyes, those steady, familiar grey eyes that would always look at me with such fondness, are colder than I’ve ever seen them. “You know w

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