บททั้งหมดของ The billionaire's secret son: บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

Benjamim thought that there was a fifty percent chance of him arguing with Antonella that day.He went back to the bedroom, with Fred heeling him. He showed agitation, as if he wanted to say something. After what Benjamim had done, standing up to the governor, anyone would want to ask him why he had been so bold.Benjamim went straight to bed, feeling weak, as if he could faint at any moment. He didn’t see when Antonella entered the room, furious and walking toward him, ready to demand an explanation.The fifty percent chance had ended right there.“Where is Dante?” Benjamim heard her voice, but he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “What did you say to him?”“You’re quite interested in the governor,” he said, suddenly leaving her in a bad mood. “I have no idea where he went.”“You should stop with these insinuations,” Antonella continued, gesturing. “And stop meddling in my life. Whether I’m seeing Dante or not, that’s my business.”Those words paralyzed him. He had intended to lie down

BeforeAntonella’s face became completely expressionless when she heard Carlota’s words. But she knew it wasn’t entirely true; still, she was surprised to hear her say those things behind her back.She left before she could hear another major piece of nonsense or before Benjamim saw her overhearing their conversation. It was clear that he agreed with his mother and considered her a gold digger. She preferred not to hear the rest of the conversation to avoid further frustration.However, the tears were inevitable. Before she realized it, they were already streaming down her cheeks. It was impossible to hide it from Dominique. She came walking towards her, and Antonella's first impulse was to turn her back and leave.Too late.“Why are you crying?” she asked, looking deeply into Antonella’s eyes. “Did Benjamim say something that hurt you?”Antonella wiped her eyes with her fingers immediately. She swallowed all the pain because, right there, looking at Dominique, she concluded it was a

Benjamim arrived home alone. He lay down in his bed and waited for his room to fill up in a few hours. He had called his lawyer on the way and explained everything that was happening, hearing the man say he would be there in a few minutes.But before all of that, he had to face a few journalists, who, for some reason, were camped outside the hospital. He was bombarded with those idiotic questions about whether his company was going bankrupt, how he felt about meeting his son, and if he and Antonella were together. That last question lingered in his thoughts until he finally got home.Although he tried to be polite—he tried to be polite with everyone—he hated being interviewed by those people. They were just waiting for him to slip up, to crucify him, or to throw him to the lions.He tried not to think about it and focused on the tasks ahead, but Antonella’s face wouldn’t leave his mind. He regretted leaving without telling her how he felt, or worse, without saying goodbye to his son.

Antonella remained startled until Fred's car left the hospital and headed toward the city's main road. Only when she realized what had happened and that she was safe did she finally release the air trapped in her lungs.Her damp, trembling hands relaxed. She wiped them on the jeans she was wearing. She looked at Fred, asking how he knew she needed help and how he had managed to be so effective in getting her out from among the lions.“You told me that Benjamim sent you.”Fred turned his head and laughed at her. He looked at her hand, then turned his attention back to the road, but with a smile still on his face.“I need to know where to take you,” he said. “After all, Benjamim didn’t tell me where you live.”“He doesn’t know where I live.” Her voice almost faded. “So, you were really telling the truth when you said it was him who sent you here?”The car started to slow down, and Fred’s gaze wandered over the road as if he were completely lost.“Mr. Benjamim ordered me to come to the h

Enrico was reading the news in the newspaper, sitting in his old, worn-out chair, and his expression changed with every sentence he read. His heart filled with certainty as he neared the end: Alessia was involved in this.He crumpled the newspaper and threw it away. He shouldn’t care about the daughter he has never shown affection for. Antonella had always been neglected by him; although, deep down, he loved her, he never showed it.He stood up impatiently, realizing that Alessia was a lost cause. He concluded that even his different treatment of his daughters hadn’t influenced them. While Antonella, who was always scolded and mistreated by him, caused less trouble, Alessia, who had always had everything, was the one who caused the most.He blamed himself for the way he had raised them and felt enormous relief that Francesca wasn’t alive to see the family fall apart.Suddenly, Enrico's shouts were heard from afar. Fabricio’s hurried footsteps echoed on the old wooden floor as he heade