All Chapters of The Bride He Bought : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼 "But you said the wedding would be in six months," I continue, once I recover from the shock of his announcement. "Yes. That was then." His voice over the phone is clipped. "Now it's happening in a month. We’ll talk tomorrow. My driver will pick you up." The call ends. I lower the phone slowly, staring at the black screen like it'll bring him back. Did this really just happen or is this all a dream? I ask myself. A month? Not too long ago, before I boarded the jet, Luciana pulled me into an unexpected hug and whispered into my ear with venom masked in a smile, "Don’t get too comfortable, Alera. You’ll be history soon." Those words have replayed like a loop in my head since then, mocking and haunting me, even though I shouldn't even be affected by anything she says. I'm pretty much immune to them because Dante and I will get married, the contract binds us. But, the wedding speeding up so closely? Now that's insane. My chest tightens, and my thoughts sw

𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼 The days that follow feel like one endless and perfectly rehearsed performance. Behind the smoke screens, I'm more impressed and a little sickened by Dante's flawless execution of the plan. When the engagement was announced, I had expected whispers on the media. Some suspicion concerning the wedding and why it's so soon. Maybe even a little backlash. Instead, I step into a whirlwind of glamorized delusion, that this city willingly bought into. A fantasy that Dante and I are madly, secretly and hopelessly in love. It starts with a TV interview. Not with us, I've learnt very quickly that Dante never does press, but he somehow controls the narrative. The interview is with a fashion editor from The Style Scene who gushes about our relationship as if she’s seen us make out in real life. “They’ve been together for a while. Very lowkey. But that kiss? That's classic Dante. The Italian American business mogul has always known how to turn a moment viral.” I stare at the s

𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀The second the call ends, I calmly drop my phone on the marble desk. “How the fuck did this happen?” I look up, my tone hitting my target like a whip. Francesca flinches. “Sir, I don’t know. I...I have no idea how the information got out.” She’s standing across from me, tablet clutched tightly to her chest, her knuckles are pale. It's actually quite unsettling seeing her like this. Francesca is never fazed, no matter the situation she would always have the same stoic expression. But right now she's practically shivering. “You don’t know?” I echo calmly. Francesca swipes open her tablet and starts typing rapidly. “I’ve used the same sources I always use, the information on her came same channels. They’ve been vetted multiple times.” “Maybe one of them turned on you,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “Or maybe someone offered more money than I pay you.” Her face drains of color. “No, sir. That’s not possible. I trust them.” Lorenzo who I absolutely forgot is in the

𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼 For a moment, I'm speechless, I can’t even process what he just said. Destroy Dante Moretti. The words echo in my head like a bell, but somehow far away. Oblivious to my state of mind, Kingsley’s voice keeps going, but I can’t latch onto the meaning. His mouth is moving, I'm catching glimpses of smug smiles between sentences, but I'm not registering anything he's saying. My thudding heartbeat is almost drowning him out. My fingers curl tight in my lap. This was supposed to be a job interview. “…and the thing is, people are finally seeing him for what he is,” his voice snaps back into focus, louder now. “It’s all over the damn media. The truth’s out there. No more perfectly planned images or fake happy couple PR stunts. People aren’t buying it anymore, Alera.” He leans back like he’s just dropped a winning hand in a poker game. “You’d be smart to stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.” My brows knit together. “Pretending? I came here for a job int

𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀 “Mr. Moretti…” Anita’s voice cracks. Her lips tremble and her eyes are glassy with tears that cling stubbornly before spilling down her cheeks. Her whole body is shaking against the restraints. “Save your tears,” I tell her in a flat tone. “You’ll need them later.” She sniffles, then swallows hard, and tries to sit straighter though the effort makes her look even smaller. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” I lean closer, watching her face twitch with fear. “How have you been?” “P...please Mr Moretti,” she stammers, voice breaking, “let me go.” I stand, brushing invisible dust from my jacket. “I can’t. You owe me.” A gesture with my hand and one of the men drags a chair over. I sit across from her, elbows on my knees and my eyes steady on hers. “We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t you think?” Her throat bobs as she swallows, eyes darting toward the floor as if it can protect her. “You really thought you could hide from me, didn’t you?” My voice drops an