All Chapters of His Queen,Their War: Chapter 51 - Chapter 57

Salvatore’s POV I returned home before nightfall, Guila had taken Alessia home already. I pulled into the driveway and the house was unusually still, like her scent always lingered before she even stepped into a room.My footsteps echoed across the marble, and I loosened my tie. Tonight, everything had to end. The more I watched her trying to behave that she didn't want me…the more I knew I couldn’t let it happen. I wasn’t ready to lose her again,not to Lorenzo, not to the cruel weight of her hatred, and definitely not to Francesca.Francesca…That name alone felt like poison down my throat. Her threats, her sweet fake smile, her constant manipulation,it was time to burn them all. If her parents wanted the engagement to stand, fine. I would pay them a billion euros. The Cosa Nostra always had its rules, but I was done letting others write mine.Tonight, I would go to Alessia. I would explain everything. Even if she screamed at me. Even if she spat in my face. Even if she never forgav

ALESSIA'S POV For the past few days, I’d been doing everything humanly possible to ignore Salvatore. And God, it was exhausting.Every time I heard his footsteps somewhere in the house, every time his presence brushed against mine like static, every time I felt those eyes on me,my stupid heart twitched. And I hated that. I hated that he still had that kind of effect on me. I hated that he could hurt me without even touching me.To think he even called Francesca over.The thought alone made my chest tighten. It shouldn't have. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t feel anything. And I absolutely, definitely, completely wasn’t allowed to feel jealous.So I didn’t. I smiled instead, I forced myself to smile. I acted unbothered. Hallelujah, I didn't fall deeply again. I refused to. Hold on a second,I was falling before? Damn you Alessia! But every time I remembered Francesca’s hand fixing my hair… her whisper… those ugly words;“Let go of him before you hurt yourself.”I felt something inside m

The quiet in my room was finally beginning to feel like comfort. I had spread the sketch papers on my bed, pencils lined up beside them, and was trying—really trying—to force an idea out of my tired brain. Nothing was coming. Not a silhouette, not a spark, not even an ugly scribble I could pretend was “artistic exploration.”I exhaled loudly and let myself fall back on the bed. The silence wrapped around me like a blanket. Good. I needed it. I deserved at least five minutes without stress, without thinking of school, competitions, Francesca, or—The door opened.Of course.Salvatore walked in like he owned the house. Well, technically he did, but still. The audacity. The absolute audacity.I groaned and didn’t even bother hiding it.“What are you doing in here?”He didn’t answer right away. He rarely did. Instead, he stepped further into the room. Then he held out the telephone receiver toward me.I blinked.“What?”He didn’t say a word. Just kept holding it out.“Who is it?” I asked.

I didn’t even hear Guila’s first words. My head was ringing too loudly, stuffed with panic and humiliation. Pearls still clung to my palms like tiny reminders of my failure. I tried to breathe, tried to blink the tears away, I tried to think,but my chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.“Alessia, hey,hey,look at me,” Guila said, reaching for my shoulders.I jerked away. “Don’t,just don’t talk to me right now.”“But we can fix…”“No, we can’t.” My voice broke, and I hated how fragile it sounded. “We searched everywhere today! Everywhere, Guila! There is no other fabric. That was my last hope. The competition is in two days. What exactly do you want me to fix, huh?”Her eyes softened. “We can buy another…”“Another what?” I snapped. “Another fabric? Another design? Another month of stress? Because I’m not seeing it!”She blinked at me, startled, but I was shaking from both anger and that ugly, hopeless heaviness kneeling on my chest.She reached out again. “Alessia, I get it. Y