All Chapters of SUBSTITUTE BRIDE FOR THE MAFIA DON: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Dahlia’s POVHe looked at me for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something.“So… how did we meet?” Luca asked softly.The question caught me off guard. My heart skipped, and I let out a small breath.“It’s… kinda complicated,” I said honestly.He stayed quiet for a few seconds after I told him it was complicated. Not uncomfortable quiet. Just thoughtful. Like he was turning the idea over in his head, examining it from all sides.“Complicated,” he repeated softly, nodding once. “Yeah… I feel like my whole life is complicated right now.”I gave a small, sad smile. I wanted to tell him everything at once. How we were married. How much he loved me. How much I loved him. But the doctor’s words echoed in my head.Be patient.So I stayed quiet.Then he did something unexpected.Slowly, carefully, like he didn’t want to scare me, Luca lifted his hand and held it out toward me. His palm faced up, open and waiting. I stared at it, my chest tightening.“Then let’s not start with compli

Dahlia’s POVThe next morning, I woke up feeling lighter than I had in days.For the first time since everything happened, my body felt rested. Properly rested. I had slept deeply, without nightmares, without waking up in panic. When I opened my eyes and saw the soft morning light filling the room, it almost felt normal. Almost like my life hadn’t been turned upside down.I sat up slowly, one hand going to my stomach without thinking.I didn’t feel any morning sickness.I took that as a good sign.I took my time getting ready. I showered, dressed in a simple, comfortable dress, and brushed my hair slowly. There was no rush, but there was excitement bubbling under my calm. I was going to see Luca again. Awake Luca. Talking Luca.When I stepped out, the smell of food filled the house.Mrs. Cruz was already in the kitchen, moving around like she always did, like nothing in the world could ever truly shake her. Pots were on the stove, containers laid out neatly on the counter.She turned

Dahlia’s POVI smiled through my tears, my chest aching in that soft, painful way that comes from loving someone too much. Yes, I wanted him to remember. I wanted him to wake up one day and look at me the way he used to, with recognition and certainty.But even if he didn’t…Even if the memories never fully came back…I wanted him to feel it. The love. The warmth. The bond that had never really left us.So I took a deep breath and told him about Italy.“We went to Italy together,” I began softly. “You had gone for business at first. Meetings and all. I thought I would barely see you.”He watched me closely, his eyes calm and focused, like he was trying to picture it.“But something changed while we were there,” I continued. “We spent more time together. Real time. No rushing. No guards hovering too close. Just us.”I smiled at the memory. “We walked a lot. We talked a lot. We laughed more than usual. You seemed… lighter. Happier.”He tilted his head slightly. “What did we do?” he aske

Dahlia’s POVLuca was coming home today.The words kept repeating in my head, over and over, like a quiet prayer that had finally been answered. I had woken up before the sun, my body restless, my mind already racing. Sleep hadn’t wanted to stay with me. Every time I closed my eyes, my heart would start beating too fast, like it was afraid to miss something.After weeks of hospital rooms, white walls that all looked the same, machines that beeped day and night, and endless waiting… we were finally taking him home.When the doctor told us he was being discharged, I almost cried right there. He said Luca was strong enough now. Healing well. Stable. Those words felt heavy and precious, like something fragile I didn’t want to drop.I watched Luca get dressed that morning. He stood there with his jacket on, adjusting it slowly, like he was still getting used to his body again. When I really looked at him, my chest tightened. I couldn’t believe everything he had survived. The explosion. The

Dahlia’s POVLuca spent most of the day in meetings.It felt strange seeing him slip back into that role so quickly, sitting at the head of long tables, listening, speaking in that calm, firm way that made men straighten without him raising his voice. Even without his memories, the leader in him was still there. Solid. Natural.I checked on him several times throughout the day.Sometimes I just stood quietly at the door and watched for a moment, making sure he looked okay. Other times I walked in and asked if he needed anything. Every time he saw me, his face softened a little, like I was something familiar even if he didn’t fully know why.I made sure he ate his lunch. I reminded him about his medication. I sat with him while he swallowed the pills, watching closely like a worried nurse even though he teased me gently about it.“I’m not made of glass,” he told me at one point.“I know,” I said. “But you’re still healing.”He didn’t argue. He just smiled and did as I said.By the time