All Chapters of The Wedding Jilt: Gangster's Revenge Bride: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Chapter 61: The Proposal*Valerie's POV*I made my way to the address Hassan had texted me. After hours of restless sleep filled with dreams of Tony's hands on my body and nightmares of waking up alone, I'd finally given up on rest and decided to meet Hassan as planned.Maybe distraction was exactly what I needed.The location he'd chosen was tucked away in a quiet corner of Rome, far from the tourist crowds, a small, elegant bar that looked more like a private club than a public establishment. The kind of place where wealthy people came to conduct delicate conversations away from prying eyes.Hassan was already waiting when I arrived, impeccably dressed, his dark eyes lighting up when he saw me approach. He stood immediately, moving toward me with that fluid grace that seemed to come naturally to him."Valeria," he said warmly, taking my hands in his. "You look beautiful, even with sadness in your eyes."I tried to smile, but it felt fragile on my face. "Thank you for meeting me. I k

Chapter 63: The Business Meeting*Victor's POV*The streets of Rome rolled past the tinted windows of the luxury car, ancient architecture mixing with modern traffic in a way that reminded me why this city had survived for millennia. Power endured here, adapted, evolved. Just like I was doing.I adjusted my tie and checked my phone for the third time in ten minutes. This meeting with Hassan Al-Rashid could change everything for Familia del Norte, when Tony's inevitable downfall was complete. The Arab had the kind of oil money that could fund expansion into European markets, the kind of legitimate business fronts that would make our operations virtually untouchable.My driver, a local contact who knew how to navigate both Rome's traffic and its more discrete business arrangements, glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "The Al-Rashids have been in Rome for three generations," he offered. "Very connected family. They do business with everyone… governments, corporations, people who prefer

Chapter 65: The Awakening*Victor's POV*I found an empty chair near the back of the reception hall, my mind reeling from what I'd just discovered. Valerie Newton was sitting unconscious in a wedding dress beside Hassan Al-Rashid while guests celebrated their supposed marriage.Nothing about this made sense.I turned to the elderly man seated beside me, a distinguished gentleman in traditional Middle Eastern formal wear who seemed to be enjoying the champagne more than the ceremony."Excuse me," I said quietly, "but what exactly is happening here? What are we waiting for?"He looked at me with the slightly unfocused gaze of someone who'd been celebrating for hours. "The Imam, of course! He's running late, but once he arrives, they'll complete the official ceremony. Though I must say, it's unusual for the bride to be so... drowsy during her own wedding."Exactly! So, I am not the only one witnessing the strangeness in the fact that she is unconscious. Was she forced? Is this against he

Chapter 67: The Evidence*Valerie's POV*I pushed myself upright from the bed, my muscles protesting, my legs unsteady beneath me. The world still swayed at the edges, but determination dug its claws deeper than the weakness. I couldn’t stay here. If Victor came back and found me awake, found me moving, he wouldn’t just interrogate—he’d break me. I had to get out, had to find Tony, had to warn him before this spiraled any further out of control.My gaze locked on the door. Ten steps, maybe less, and I could make it into the hall. I took one breath, then another, willing my body forward. But then—something glinted at the edge of the small hotel table, snagging my attention like bait.A phone.Victor’s phone.It lay face-up, the black screen dimly glowing, unlocked, as if mocking me with its accessibility. The arrogance of it. He’d been so sure of my helplessness, so certain that I’d remain unconscious and pliant, that he hadn’t even bothered to lock it before stepping out.I hesitated

Chapter 69: The Trap*Tony's POV*The beach house had become my prison as much as my sanctuary. Three days of hiding, three days of eating stale crackers and canned food, three days of jumping at every sound that might signal my discovery. I'd gone from commanding respect across Mexico to cowering in a rented cottage, afraid to step outside for fear that someone might recognize the face plastered on every wanted poster from Rome to Naples.This wasn't living. This was just a slower form of dying.I sat on the sagging couch, staring at the peeling paint on the walls, and thought about how far I'd fallen. Antonio Reyes-Santos, head of Familia del Norte, reduced to hiding like a rat in a hole while his enemies carved up everything he'd built.The worst part wasn't the isolation or the fear or even the knowledge that I was probably going to die soon. The worst part was the regret that ate at me like acid, the constant replay of every moment I'd spent with Valerie and every reason I'd give