All Chapters of His Possession: Don’s Reluctant Bride : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The corridor to the east wing had never felt so long. Elana’s footsteps echoed against the marble, quick and determined, but inside, she was splintering. Her mind churned with memories—her father’s warmth, his warnings, his sudden absences. A part of her still clung to the belief that he was innocent. That there was an explanation. That the man who had kissed her forehead every night growing up wasn’t capable of selling out his own daughter. She reached the study and pushed open the door. Giovanni Romano stood behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, reading a file. When he looked up and saw her, he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Elana,” he said carefully, “you look upset.” She didn’t waste time. “Don’t pretend you don’t know why I’m here.” He closed the file slowly. “Then tell me.” Her voice trembled, but she stood tall. “Did you give Marconi the gala’s security layout?” Silence. “Elana—” “Answer the question.” He walked around the desk, his movements deliberate

The storm had passed, but Elana couldn’t shake the chill it left behind. She stood alone on the balcony of her room, arms wrapped around herself, staring into the moonlit garden. Below, the estate was quiet—too quiet. As if even the walls were holding their breath, waiting for the next rupture. Luca hadn’t said a word after escorting her back. No questions, no reassurances. Just a heavy silence that stretched between them, thick and unspoken. She couldn’t blame him. What was left to say when your father had just confessed to betraying you? A soft knock broke her thoughts. She turned, expecting a maid. But it was Luca. His dark shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a rare vulnerability in his usually guarded appearance. He didn’t speak right away, only stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “You shouldn’t be alone right now,” he said quietly. “I’m fine,” she replied, voice flat. He walked over, stopping just short of touching her. “No,

The night air pressed heavy against the windows of the Moretti estate, as though it, too, held its breath. Elana sat on the edge of the bed, still dressed from the strategy meeting earlier. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her blouse, but her mind was elsewhere—tracing every word, every glance exchanged with Luca. There was no denying the shift between them. The kiss had been real. Not an accident. Not strategy. But now what? A soft knock broke her thoughts. The door eased open, and there he was—Luca, in a black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, jaw clenched like he’d been arguing with himself the whole way up the stairs. “I didn’t want to assume you wanted company,” he said, voice low. “But I couldn’t sleep.” Elana didn’t stand. She looked at him, measured and calm. “I didn’t say I didn’t.” That was all he needed. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. The air in the room changed—thicker, charged. He walked slowly toward her,

The morning air was heavy with tension. Elana stood by the window of the master bedroom, watching as a few of Luca’s men checked the perimeter below. They moved with purpose, heads on swivels, their hands never far from their weapons. It wasn’t paranoia anymore. It was preparation. She hadn’t slept much. Neither had Luca. The attack hadn’t come yet—but it was close. She could feel it in her bones. Behind her, the shower clicked off. Moments later, Luca stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist, water still clinging to his chest. He looked like a man at war—physically ready, emotionally guarded. But when he saw her standing there, something in him softened. “Elana,” he said, voice rough. “You okay?” She nodded without turning. “I’m fine. Just… waiting.” He stepped closer, standing just behind her, their reflections caught in the glass. “You don’t have to carry all of this.” She finally looked up at him through the mirror. “I’m not. I’m carrying my part. That’s what p

The night air was colder than usual as Elana stood on the terrace outside their bedroom, arms crossed over her chest. Below, the estate grounds were quiet. Too quiet. Luca hadn’t come up yet. She hadn’t expected him to, not after the call he took with Matteo downstairs. But the silence that followed was unnerving. She could sense it—the tension building again, like storm clouds stacking behind clear skies. The door opened behind her. “You should be in bed,” Luca said softly. “I couldn’t sleep.” He came up beside her, slipping off his jacket and placing it over her shoulders. His body radiated quiet heat, but his eyes were distant. “They moved the weapons,” he said. “All of them. Marconi’s crew cleared out the warehouse by the docks.” She turned toward him. “Do you think they know you’ve been watching?” “I think they’re preparing to hit harder and cleaner than we expected. Matteo thinks they’re baiting us.” Elana swallowed. “Are we biting?” “Not yet.” His hand br