Todos os capítulos de His Unwanted Witness : Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

Alessandro lifted Lilian in his arms as if she weighed nothing. She was weak, trembling, her skin cold against his chest. Isabella walked beside him, refusing to let go of Lilian’s hand even for a second.“Hold on,” Isabella whispered. “We’re getting you out.”Lilian nodded weakly, her voice barely audible. “Please… don’t leave me…”“I won’t,” Isabella said firmly. “Not now. Not ever.”Alessandro carried her down the stairs, ignoring the destroyed hallway, the dead guards, and the smell of gunpowder lingering in the air. His jaw was tight, his eyes cold with fury, but his grip on Lilian stayed gentle.“Open the doors,” he ordered.His men pushed the front doors wide. Two SUVs waited outside, engines running. Alessandro walked straight to the first one and laid Lilian gently across the backseat.“Bring blankets,” he commanded.One of his men rushed forward with a thick coat. Alessandro wrapped it around Lilian’s shaking form.She flinched. “It hurts…”“I know,” Alessandro said softly,

The hospital room was quiet.Too quiet.Machines beeped softly beside Lilian’s bed. The white curtains swayed slowly whenever the AC hummed. The room smelled of antiseptic and cold metal.Lilian lay on the bed, her skin pale, her arms bandaged, faint bruises peeking from beneath the gown. Her eyes were half-open, staring at nothing.She looked small.She looked broken.She looked like someone who had seen hell and barely made it back.Isabella sat beside her, holding her hand gently. She hadn’t left the chair since they arrived.Across the room, Vivienne and Matteo stood near the wall. Their faces were tense, almost unreadable. Vivienne looked terrified. Matteo… looked like a man whose soul had been yanked out.Outside, Alessandro spoke quietly with a doctor, his expression cold and unreadable.Finally, the door opened.Alessandro stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, locking immediately on Lilian.“She’s stable,” he said quietly. “No internal bleeding. Just exhaustion, bruises,

Matteo and Alessandro walked back into the hospital room. Isabella sat beside Lilian’s bed, her hand gently wrapped around her sister’s. Vivienne sat on the other side, wiping Lilian’s forehead with slow, careful movements.When Alessandro stepped closer, Isabella looked up immediately.He cleared his throat. “Isabella,” he said softly, “we need to head home.”Isabella’s brows furrowed instantly. “No,” she said firmly. “I’m staying with Lilian. She needs me.”Vivienne placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Isabella,” she said kindly, “I’m here. I won’t leave her side. I promise.”“But—” Isabella started.Vivienne squeezed her hand. “You have been running around all day. You haven’t eaten. You haven’t rested. You will collapse if you stay longer. Go home for tonight. I will take care of her.”Isabella looked at Lilian again—bruised, tired, but alive. Her heart squeezed painfully. She didn’t want to leave, not even for a second.Alessandro stepped closer. His voice was strong but gentle. “I’

Alessandro rested against the headboard, one arm around Isabella, the other lightly brushing her hair as she leaned into him. The teasing had softened into quiet breathing, steady heartbeats, and a rare moment of peace after the chaos of the day.For a while, neither of them said anything.Isabella traced small nervous circles on Alessandro’s shirt, her mind clearly far from calm.He felt it.Her shoulders were tense.Her breathing uneven.And her silence wasn’t the peaceful kind—it was the scared kind.He brushed her cheek lightly. “You’re thinking too much.”She hesitated. “I’m… just trying to process everything.”“You’ve been processing too much today,” he murmured. “Sit still. Rest.”But she didn’t relax.Not even a little.Alessandro frowned softly. “Isabella.”She inhaled shakily.Then finally asked the question that had been sitting on her chest like weight:“Alessandro… do you think Lorenzo will come back?”He didn’t answer immediately.But the moment she said the name—the e

The night was quiet.Too quiet.Far from the city, where no one would think to look, an old warehouse sat behind rusted shipping containers. The place smelled like damp wood and dust, but inside… it was almost spotless.A single lamp hung over a metal table.And beneath that dim circle of light…Lorenzo stood alone.He wore the same calm expression everyone had seen him with for years—the same handsome, almost too-perfect face that made people trust him, fear him, admire him.But that face…Wasn’t his.He sighed, annoyed, as he loosened the buttons of his shirt. “I swear… this thing gets more uncomfortable every year.”He reached into a drawer, pulled out a small metal tool, and placed it beside the lamp.Then he lifted both hands to his face.His fingers pressed against his cheeks—and the skin shifted.Not bleeding.Not tearing.Just… loosening.Because it wasn’t skin.It was a mask.A perfectly engineered layer of artificial human flesh—smooth, flexible, customized to look natural