All Chapters of Her Heart in his Empire : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

VIOLET Thanks to my husband’s prolong absence, two whole weeks of deafening silence. I have rediscover something I haven’t known in months. Peace. I have not tiptoe through every room of this mansion without the familiar weight of fear pressing on my chest. I haven’t had to walk on eggshells, holding my breath each time the front door creaks open. If Stefan could just stay in New York forever, I might remember what it’s like to breathe without flinching. Margaret has become my quiet refuge, between her motherly presence and our baking lessons, I have found a strange kind of therapy in flour, butter, and sugar. Since I’m not allowed to leave the house, I fill my days with recipes, sketching designs that will never leave these four walls, and baking cookies. I’ll probably never serve to a man who refuses to touch anything that didn’t come from his five star chef. This afternoon, the scent of vanilla and warm chocolate fills the kitchen as I pull a tray from the oven. Margaret cla

Violet After giving me a sharp once over, Stefan turned on his heel and stormed out of the house. I hurried after him, a sleek black Lamborghini roll to a stop in front of us. Without sparing me a glance, he slid into the driver’s seat, I climb in beside him, and in silence, we pull away from the estate. The car glide through the tall iron gates, leaving the estate behind , outside the road stretched endlessly, lined with nothing but trees and shadows, It felt eerily secluded. My face pressed lightly against the cool glass of the window, drinking in the unfamiliar world. This was the first time I’d seen the outside world since I got married. I felt like a dog finally let out of its cage, dazed and uncertain. Neither of us spoke, I kept my eyes on the blur of the trees, unsure when next I would be allowed this small taste of freedom. But I could feel his gaze on me watching me, ““We need to show up at the party like a happy couple, no smart mouth. I’ll do the talking,” he said col

Violet The drive home was suffocatingly silent. I sat frozen, eyes fixed on the dark blur outside the window, but my thoughts were back at that party on Gianna. There was something hauntingly familiar about her, the tilt of her smile, the way her eyes held warmth. She looked like Stefan, undeniably, beauty clearly ran in their bloodline, but Gianna she was different. Gentle and human, It makes me wonder if she had been raised in another world entirely. One untouched by venom and pride the Rossis seem to breathe, I liked her, more than I should and strangely, I was already looking forward to seeing her again. The car hadn't even come to a full stop in the driveway before I flung the door open and stormed into the house. The moment I entered the living room, the temperature dropped. There she was Nonna, Sitting on the velvet settee like a queen on her throne. Her eyes landed on me and turned cold with contempt, her mouth curling into a familiar sneer. “Oh, welcome,” she spat, risi

Violet I took my time getting ready, slipping into a pair of tailored blue boyfriend jeans that hugged me just right and a sleeveless white silk top that whispered luxury. My White Chanel heels clicked against the marble floor as I picked up my brown Prada bag. My perfume clung to me like confidence, expensive, and unforgettable. I made a vow to enjoy every luxury this marriage afforded me. Why not smell like generational wealth while I was at it? When I stepped downstairs, Oliver was already waiting, he opened the door to a gleaming Aston Martin, its black paint glistening under the afternoon sun. The scent of rich leather filled the cabin, smooth and decadent. I slid in, crossing my legs as the estate gates slowly disappeared behind us. From the rearview mirror, I caught Oliver’s eyes lingering. “If you’ve got something to say, out with it, Or is there a tracker in the car that will snitch to your boss if you talk to me?” I asked, sharp and cold, not in the mood for games. He

STEFAN I sat deep in the leather armchair of my penthouse suite, scotch in hand, shirt half unbuttoned, the city lights bleeding into the room. The air smelled of wealth, lust, and bad decisions. Then the door open and Vicky strolled in Wearing lingerie that barely qualified as clothing. Black lace hugged her curves like sin itself, her heels clicked on the marble floor. “Your penthouse now, huh?” she said, tossing her purse on the bed with a smirk. “Guess I’ve been demoted, no more mansion sex for the side chick. Perks of dating a married man.” I didn’t move, just watched her crouch in front of me, between my spread legs. Like a ritual. “Perks of fucking a married man,” I corrected, my voice low, sharp. “Let’s not romanticize it, I call, you come, If you don’t like it, don’t show.” Her eyes narrowed, but the smirk stayed, she clearly love this game. “You already look like you're drowning in that disaster of a marriage. Should’ve thought twice before marrying a broke, wide eye