Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE'S SERVANT : Bab 31 - Bab 40

32: calm after the stormThe echo of the serious voices resounded in the corridor while I was walking towards the office of Alessandro. I did not intend to interrupt anything, but something in the sharp tone of Alessandro made me slow down. I stopped right in front of the ajar door. - Do you think you can come here and dictate your conditions? Romaa Alessandro. The other man replied, just as aggressive, but his Italian accent was too pronounced for me to understand everything. However, I felt that the exchange was tense. My heart got carried away. Who was this man to speak to him like this? I gently pushed the door, and my eyes fell on Alessandro, standing behind his desk, the black look and the tense jaws. He was furious. The short breath, I had never seen this facet of him, at least not with such intensity. The man in front of him seemed less sure of him than his voice let him believe. Alessandro dominated the play, his pure anger igniting the air around him. And then ... he

34: trapped in the unknownLivia's point of viewWhen I finally opened my eyes, throbbing pain hammered my skull. My whole body was numb, as if I had slept for an eternity. Where am I? I blocked the eyelids several times, trying to adjust my vision to the low shine of a hanging lamp. The smell of withdrawn and moldy wood grabbed my nostrils. I wanted to move, but a heaviness weighed on my belly. My belly. My breathing blocked, and in a panicked reflex, my hands slid on the rounded curve of my belly. My baby ... He moved slightly under my fingers, a sign of his presence. He was fine. A trembling sigh escaped my lips, but fear did not leave me. I straightened up with difficulty on the thick dusty blanket where I was lying down. The room around me was dismal: raw stone walls, a damaged wooden floor, a makeshift bed. A cabin? I was thirsty. My throat was dry like paper. I turned my head, desperately looking for a carafe, a bottle, something. But there was nothing. A thrill traveled t

36: Return to the villaLivia's point of viewI am nestled against Alessandro in the car, his protective arm around my shoulders, but my mind is elsewhere. My body is still shaken by what has just happened. I was removed. Torn from my husband. Separated from him as I have his child. Just thinking about it, my breath cuts, my belly tightens. But what troubles me the most are not the memories of anxiety or even the fear that I felt. It’s something else. Dario. His words haunt my mind. His gaze ... It was not that of a man drunk with revenge or pure cruelty. It was something else. Deeper resentment, anchored pain. He said he wanted to take revenge on Alessandro, make him understand something. But what? I unconsciously hug my hands on my belly. Our child moves slightly, and this simple gesture brings me back to reality. I'm safe now. Alessandro collected me. However, a thrill travels to me. The car slows down while the villa appears in front of us, majestic and yet so different from

38:Since our return to the villa, Alessandro has changed. Oh, he has always been possessive, authoritarian, and absolute control over everything around him. But since the birth of our son, it's worse. Well worse. Nothing escapes him. He wants to manage everything. The safety of the house has been reinforced, no one is without its authorization. Doctors and nurses who come to see our baby are handpicked. Alessandro checks every detail, each movement, as if the whole world was a threat to our son. I should feel reassured. Admiring, even. Because basically, he does all of this for love. To protect us. To offer us a bubble where nothing and no one could reach us. But this bubble ... begins to weigh me. -You shouldn't wear that, let me do it. -Rest, I'm going to ask someone to bring the baby. - You're tired, go to sleep, I take care of everything. His words, repeated again and again, end up frustrating me. I feel like I am locked up in a too tight cocoon, a place where I am reduce

40:Alessandro's point of viewSilence has become a weight in this house. Before, there was his voice. Its perfume. His benevolent gaze placed on me. Before, there was his advice, even when I did not ask them. His way of putting her hand on mine to remember not to be too hard. Do not forget man under armor. Before, there was my mother. Today, only the void remains. I get up every morning with this strange feeling that something is missing. As if I had forgotten something important, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Then I remember. She is no longer there. I could say that I'm better. That time does its job. That the pain is erased slowly. But it would be a lie. We do not recover from the loss of a mother. We just learn to live with it. I think about it all the time. To the child I was, to the one she raised. To my father, which she never stopped loving, even after her death. I remember dinners with family, her laughter, his looks heavy with reproaches when I was stupid. I al