Todos los capítulos de The First Wife’s Revenge : Capítulo 141 - Capítulo 145

Rome glowed under the morning sun.Warm light hit the ancient stones, making them shine like gold. Crowds moved through the narrow streets, tourists snapping pictures, locals rushing to work, bus drivers shouting into phones. The world was loud, alive, ordinary.And in the middle of all of it, Olivia walked like a ghost reborn.Her daughter held her hand, stepping carefully, eyes wide as she studied everything, the pigeons, the fountains, the street vendors selling leather bags that were definitely fake. The girl still didn’t speak, but she communicated with small gestures. A tilt of her head. A shift of her fingers. A hum so faint only Olivia ever heard it.As they crossed Piazza Navona, Olivia felt the breeze pull at her coat. She breathed it in, fresh, warm, real.The world had forgotten the Bloodbound.No more rituals.No more councils.No more altars, no more chants, no more brides marked for sacrifice.Rome didn’t know her face.Didn’t whisper her name.Didn’t track her like an

The storm had not passed.Jessica’s name on the mirror still hung in Olivia’s mind like smoke that refused to clear.By morning, the monastery felt heavier, air thick, silence stretched, every corridor echoing with unspoken questions.But Olivia didn’t break.She moved with focus, strategy, and a cold, centered determination.Fear couldn’t run her operations. Not anymore.Today, she had a mission.A new order.A new code.A new foundation.The Bloodbound was dead.But the women who survived it were not.They needed something.Olivia sent out the call at sunrise.A single message delivered through private channels, encrypted, silent, crystal clear,“Come to the monastery. We begin again.”By noon, the courtyard was filled.Women from every corner of the world stepped through the arches, former wives, former captives, former soldiers of the old system. Some wore business suits. Some wore robes. Some carried their children. Some carried scars.All of them carried history.They looked at

The room was too quiet.Olivia stood by the edge of Ethan’s bed, watching his chest rise and fall in slow, shallow waves. His skin looked pale, almost translucent, like he was fading out of the world inch by inch. The ritual had burned through him like acid. The bond kept him alive, but only barely.He blinked at her. His eyes were softer than she’d ever seen them.“Don’t look at me like that,” Olivia said. Her voice cracked even though she forced it steady. “You were supposed to outlive all of this.”He gave a faint smile, the kind that looked like it hurt him to make.“I was never meant to survive you.”“Stop,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Don’t talk like that.”He reached weakly for her hand. She took it before she could stop herself.His fingers trembled.His breath rattled.Then, with difficulty, he whispered:“Your daughter… remembers everything.”Olivia froze.“What do you mean?” she asked sharply. “Ethan, look at me. What does that mean?”But his eyes were sliding shut. H