The Billionaire's Rebellious Bride のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

I reach out and press the small, red button on the side of Santino’s bed. The plastic feels cool and slightly textured under my thumb, and the soft click sounds loud in the quiet, sterile room. Almost immediately, the heavy door swings open. A doctor and two nurses walk in, their footsteps light and synchronized on the polished linoleum floor. Seeing Santino awake and sitting up, their faces break into perfect smiles. They look like they have just witnessed a miracle, but to me, it feels like a rehearsed performance.They move around the bed with practiced ease, their movements a blur of white and blue fabric. One nurse checks the IV drip, her fingers moving quickly over the plastic tubing, while the other wraps a black cuff around Santino’s arm to check his blood pressure. The doctor shines a small, bright light into Santino’s eyes, the reflection dancing in his dark pupils. He then listens to Santino's chest with a cold, silver stethoscope. After a few minutes of whispering and nodd

“What?” Hailey asked, her composure slipping. The air inside the greenhouse was thick and heavy, smelling of damp earth and the cloying, sweet scent of white lilies a smell that reminded her of her father’s funeral. She looked around the glass walls, feeling trapped. Seeing no other door, she turned to Lorenzo. He didn't speak. He simply walked past her, his movements slow and deliberate, toward a single wooden chair tucked in the corner.Lorenzo moved the chair aside, the legs scraping against the stone floor with a sound that set Hailey’s teeth on edge. He knelt down, his expensive trousers staining with dirt as he used his bare hands to sweep away a layer of fine sand. A small, rusted iron latch appeared. He pulled it, and a section of the floor groaned open, revealing a dark, yawning staircase that led deep underground."It’s small," Lorenzo said, his voice echoing in the quiet greenhouse. "But you’ll fit."Hailey stared at the dark hole, then back at Lorenzo. Suspicion curled i

(SANTINO’S POV)I lean my head back against the cool, buttery leather of the car’s headrest, closing my eyes for a moment to let the heavy silence of the car wash over me as the driver sped towards the house.The air conditioning hums at a perfect, chilled temperature, moving the scent of expensive hide and hand-polished mahogany around the cabin. My side feels tight, a dull heavy ache that serves as a constant reminder of the lead I took for her. Next to me, my mother is a whirlwind of sharp edges and bitter, toxic words. She hasn't stopped talking since the driver pulled away from the hospital’s private entrance. Her voice is high and thin, like a piano wire being pulled until it is ready to snap and draw blood."She is a parasite, Santino," She hisses, her voice dripping with a venom she usually saves for her enemies. She clutches her designer purse so hard that the expensive leather creaks under her manicured fingers. "An ungrateful little girl. You almost died to protect her d

I sit on the edge of the king sized bed, the silence of the room pressing against my ears like a heavy weight. The sun has long since vanished, replaced by the deep, ink-black shadows of the evening. I have been in this room for hours, trapped behind the heavy door. My stomach let out a long, low growl, a sharp reminder that I haven't had a real meal since before the hospital drama. The hunger pangs are starting to feel like tiny claws scratching at my insides.I stand up, my legs feeling a bit shaky, and begin to rummage through my leather purse. I am looking for anything a stray mint, a piece of gum but all I find is a single, crushed energy bar at the very bottom. I tear the wrapper open with my teeth, the crinkle of the plastic sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet suite. The bar is dry and tastes like cardboard, but I chew it slowly, forcing myself to swallow every bite. It isn't enough, but it stops the shaking in my hands for a little while. I lie back down on the silk duvet

The voice booms through the room, vibrating in my chest. The bedroom door, already hanging crooked on its hinges, is pushed open further. It is Santino’s father. He stands there with his chest heaving, his face pale and lined with deep worry. He looks older than I have ever seen him, his eyes wide with shock at the sight of his wife hovering over me like a demon.I don’t waste a second. As Eleanor’s grip falters in surprise, I twist my body and scramble out from under her. My bare feet hit the cold marble floor, and I run. I don’t run for the door; I run straight to him, ducking behind his broad, sturdy back, grabbing the rough wool of his blazer with trembling fingers. I make sure to let out a small, broken whimper.I feel a quick flash of surprise in his muscles as if stunned that I would seek shelter with him. But the look vanishes quickly, replaced by a stern, protective glare directed at his wife.Eleanor doesn't back down. She stands by the bed, the silver letter opener still c