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Chapter 82
Last Updated:
2025-10-01 08:47:40
Latest chapter
The Chosen Bride Elena & Enzo Chapter 6
Elena Moretti - Year ThreeThe third year is the one that fools me.The first year was sharp—raw edges, distance that felt intentional. The second year was endurance, a kind of practiced restraint that let me pretend I was moving forward.The third year feels… easy.That’s how it gets me.Bella arrives in New York in late summer, when the city still smells like heat and promise, when everything feels possible even if you know better. My father asks me to show her around, nothing formal. Make sure she settles, he says. She’ll be here a while.I expect obligation.What I get is companionship.She’s funny in a quiet way, observant without being sharp. She notices things people usually overlook—the rhythm of conversations, the pauses between words. She laughs easily, but not carelessly. There’s a gentleness to her that doesn’t read as weakness. It reads as discipline.We fall into a routine without trying.Coffee before her morning classes. Long walks that turn into shared meals. Study se
The Chosen Bride Elena & Enzo Chapter 5
Enzo Ferri - Year TwoThe first thing I tell myself is that I’m imagining it.That’s been my strategy for two years now—disbelief as discipline. If I don’t trust my instincts, I don’t have to answer to them. And for the most part, it works. I execute orders. I manage people. I keep my voice even and my presence unobtrusive.I do not look for Elena Moretti.Not anymore.So when I notice her across the room with Luca De Santis, my instinctive reaction—to catalogue the way she’s standing, the angle of her shoulders, the tilt of her head—is a reflex I immediately resent.They’re close.Not intimately. Not yet. But close enough that it’s intentional. Close enough that it’s meant to be seen.Luca’s hand rests lightly at the small of her back. Familiar. Comfortable. The kind of touch you don’t earn in a single evening.She doesn’t move away.The thought settles in my chest like a weight.So this is how it ends.I turn my attention back to the conversation in front of me, nodding at intervals
The Chosen Bride Elena & Enzo Chapter 4
Elena Moretti - Year TwoI told myself I had put it behind me.That was the sentence I used when people asked how I was doing. When my brother glanced at me too closely across a table. When I caught my own reflection late at night, and didn’t like the questions in my eyes.I’m fine.It was efficient. Convincing. It required no explanation.And for most of the year, I believed it.Life moved forward in clean, orderly lines. The family expanded its influence, secured new routes, and eliminated inefficiencies. I worked longer hours than ever before, not because I needed to—but because I wanted to. Structure was easier than reflection. Strategy quieter than memory.If I kept my days full, my nights passed without incident.And Enzo Ferri stayed exactly where I had placed him.At a distance.Not deliberately at first. The space grew naturally, the way it often does between people who choose restraint over risk. He remained professional, respectful, and precise. He followed orders without q
The Chosen Bride Elena & Enzo Chapter 3
Enzo- Year OneThere are moments that change the shape of a man’s life without ever becoming a story he’s allowed to tell.The terrace was one of mine.I replayed it more times than I care to admit—not the nearly-kiss itself, but the second before it. The instant when instinct screamed yes and something older, heavier, far more dangerous forced my body to stop.I told myself it was discipline.I told myself it was loyalty.I told myself it was survival.But none of those explanations dulled the ache that followed.The morning after, I rose before the bells, before the guards rotated, before the estate fully woke. Training was the only place I could take the tension without letting it show. The weights didn’t ask questions. The sparring floor didn’t judge hesitation. Pain made sense. Desire didn’t.I fought harder than necessary that morning. The younger men noticed. They always did.They mistook it for intensity.They didn’t know it was restraint curdling into frustration.When I fina
The Chosen Bride Elena & Enzo Chapter 2
Elena- Year OneThe morning after the terrace, I learned how loud silence could be.It followed me down the corridors of the estate, settled into the stone walls, lingered in every space where something had nearly happened and then hadn’t. The kind of silence that presses against your ribs until breathing becomes an act of will.I woke before dawn, the sea outside my windows still ink-dark, the horizon barely beginning to soften. For a few suspended seconds, I lay still, caught between sleep and memory.Enzo’s breath at my cheek. His hand at my waist. The tension in his body as he stopped.I can’t.The words hadn’t been sharp. They hadn’t been cruel. That almost made them worse.I pushed myself upright and swung my feet onto the cold stone floor, grounding myself in sensation before memory could take over. The estate was quiet at this hour—guards rotating shifts, servants still asleep, the world momentarily holding its breath.I dressed quickly. No indulgence, no unnecessary softnes
The Chosen Bride Elena & Enzo Chapter 1
Elena MorettiGrief doesn’t announce itself.It doesn’t always crash through the door or scream its way into the room. Sometimes it arrives quietly, settles into your bones, and refuses to leave. It becomes the way you breathe. The way you stand. The way you learn to keep moving even when something essential has gone missing.The night my mother died, the Moretti estate felt hollow.Not empty — hollow. Completely hollow.The house still hummed with the sounds of guards. Whispered conversations, radios crackling somewhere deep in the corridors, doors opening and closing softly as people tried to be useful. But the sound had changed. It echoed too much, like the walls themselves had lost something they couldn’t replace.I couldn’t stay in my room. I had to get out.Every surface smelled like her. Lavender and bergamot. Ink and old paper. The faint sweetness of the tea she drank every night before bed. I stripped off the dress I’d worn through the endless hours of condolences and closed
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