All Chapters of The Chosen Bride: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

BellaThe room had quieted. Everyone waited—Elena, Mabel, Enzo, Matteo. But it was Aristide’s steady eyes on me that finally pushed me forward.He nodded. “You should say something. Or… take over. This is your war now.”Aristide’s stare never wavered from mine, but behind him, I felt all eyes settle on me like the silence that follows a drawn blade. My heart beat hard, but steady. My hands weren’t shaking anymore.“They tried to erase me because of my name,” I said, stepping toward the map table Enzo had set up, its surface covered in surveillance stills, old newspaper clippings, and hand-written notes. “So, we use it. We don’t hide from it anymore. We use what they fear most and make them regret ever trying.”Everyone remained quiet for a breath, like they were waiting to see if I’d flinch. I didn’t. I reached for a black marker and circled a name on the board—one of the last aliases tied to my mother.“Elena, find everything you can on Sofia’s old aliases. Look for anything connecte

BellaThe private villa where Nico arranged the meeting looked like it had survived a war… and in some ways, it had. Cracks spidered through its stucco walls like veins. Heavy shutters were drawn tight even in daylight, and armed men patrolled the perimeter with the kind of cold calm that only came from years of obedience to a man with a reputation like Salvatore Greco’s.Aristide’s hand rested at the small of my back, warm, reassuring. He hadn't said much during the car ride over—just little gestures, looks that said, I’m with you. No matter what happens.I needed that now.This meeting wasn’t just a test of my bloodline. It was a challenge of who I was. Not Riccardo Barone’s granddaughter. Not Antonio Romano’s daughter... Me.We were led inside by a silent guard in a well-cut suit and passed through a narrow hallway that opened into a wide room with arched windows and heavy stone floors. At the far end stood Salvatore Greco.He was shorter than I expected, but there was nothing smal

BellaThe low hum of the plane's engines was the only sound between us for a while. Aristide sat beside me, his fingers loosely laced with mine, his thumb absently stroking the back of my hand as we watched the clouds break beneath us.We hadn’t said much since takeoff, but that wasn’t unusual. Some silences were sacred… especially between two people who had endured what we had. There was safety in stillness, especially in the sky, above the chaos waiting for us back on the ground.“You okay?” Aristide asked finally, his voice low, meant just for me.I turned to look at him. His jaw was tight, always tighter when he was trying to pretend he wasn’t worried. I could feel the weight of his concern pressing between us, even in the softness of his touch.“I’m good,” I said. “Nervous. But I want to be there.”He looked at me, really looked at me, and I knew he was weighing whether or not to push. He didn’t.“I’ll protect you,” he said simply. “No matter what.”“I know,” I whispered. “But I’

BellaWhen Elena said one of the responses was from someone unexpected, a chill ran down my spine.“Who?” Aristide asked, voice flat and sharp.Elena tapped a few keys. “Encrypted signal routed from southern Italy. It’s… the De Luca family. They’ve been in hiding since the Palermo fire. Everyone thought they were wiped out.”I blinked. “Why would they resurface now?”“They must think aligning with you gives them a shot at power again,” Enzo muttered from the doorway. “Or survival.”Before anyone could respond, Elena’s screen lit up again. Another ping. Then a second. Then three more in rapid succession. “Five more responses,” she said, stunned. “That’s eight. Eight families, all replying within the first hour.”The air in the room shifted: buzzing, tense, but alive.Matteo, who had just entered with a mug of coffee, raised an eyebrow. “Well… looks like you stirred the hornet’s nest, Bella.”Aristide looked at me then, and something in his expression softened, even with the storm behin

BellaI stood in front of the mirrored armoire in our temporary bedroom, adjusting the button on the cuff of my black blazer. It wasn’t about looking intimidating—it was about appearing composed. In control. Even when everything inside of me buzzed like a live wire. This wasn’t just another negotiation. This was the final stretch of pulling together an alliance strong enough to crush Giancarlo Bianchi and anyone else who thought we were weak.Aristide came up behind me, his fingers brushing down the back of my neck before resting lightly on my shoulder. “Ready?”“As I’ll ever be.”The plan was simple. Well, no plan involving old mafia families and strategic blackmail was ever simple, but this one was calculated. Elena, Marco, and Enzo had worked through the night digging into the last three holdouts: the Vasari family from Chicago, the Leone family out of Miami, and the mysterious, reclusive Donato family, who had been ghosts for the last decade. Each had their reasons to hesitate. Ea