Semua Bab Ruthless Claim: Bab 71 - Bab 80

My scream didn’t sound human.It tore out of my chest raw, ugly, feral.The phone slipped from my fingers and crashed to the floor, the frozen image of Luca’s bloodied face still glowing on the screen. My knees buckled at the same time. I barely caught myself on the edge of the bed before I collapsed completely.Alive, he was alive.But trapped.My whole body shook violently, as if every nerve inside me had been set on fire at once. My vision blurred, the room tilting sharply.“No… no, no, no,” I whispered, pressing my palms to my mouth to muffle the sob that clawed its way up my throat.They had him.After everything.After surviving the birth. The press. The chaos. The threats.They still got him.The door flew open.“Aria!” Marco rushed in. “What happened?”I pointed at the phone with trembling fingers. He picked it up, his face draining of color as he watched the clip.“Benedetti,” he said softly.I nodded, unable to speak.Marco swore under his breath and immediately pulled out h

Darkness swallowed me whole.At first, I thought I was dreaming and floating somewhere between the echo of pain and the memory of his voice. Then I smelled antiseptic.Beeping.Soft, rhythmic.Hospital.My eyes fluttered open slowly. The ceiling swam in and out of focus. My body felt heavy—like gravity had doubled overnight. My stomach throbbed faintly, a deep soreness reminding me that I had just brought life into the world… and almost lost myself in the process.“Aria.”Marco’s face appeared beside my bed, his eyes lined with exhaustion and worry. Eva stood behind him, arms folded tight, fear barely hidden beneath her forced calm.“You scared the hell out of us,” Eva muttered.My throat was dry. “The baby?” I whispered.Marco exhaled. “Stabilized. Still in the NICU… but breathing on his own now.”Relief broke through me so suddenly that I sobbed.Thank God.Thank God.But relief never comes alone anymore.The image slammed back into my mind without warning.Luca.The hotel.The woma

The world becomes noise and motion.Alarms.Footsteps.Voices calling my name from faraway places I can’t reach.I run.Bare feet slap against cold hospital tiles as the words repeat in my head like a death sentence.Your baby’s oxygen just dropped.My lungs burn, my stitches scream in protest, but I don’t slow. I can’t. The NICU doors loom ahead like a barrier between life and terror.“Aria, wait!” Eva shouts behind me.I don’t.The doors swing open, and the room explodes into controlled chaos.My son’s tiny body jerks under wires and tubes. A nurse is already adjusting something on his face. Another calls out numbers I don’t understand but fear anyway.Too low.Still dropping.Not responding fast enough.“No,” I breathe. “No, no, no…”My legs give out, and someone catches me before I hit the floor. I don’t even register who. My eyes never leave that small, fragile chest fighting for air.“Please,” I whisper. “Please don’t take him. I just got him. I just met him…”A doctor turns tow

The cameras never stop flashing.They burn into Luca’s eyes like white fire as he stands beside Amandine on the marble steps of the Laurent estate. Her hand is looped through his arm, light, possessive. The diamond on her finger catches every flash, every scream of the press.But Luca barely sees any of it.All he sees is five words on his phone.She’s gone.His chest locks.The world tilts.The voices of reporters blur into noise.“Mr. De Rossi, is the wedding still on for Friday?”“Did Aria Bennett flee the country?”“Is the baby truly stable?”Amandine tightens her grip. “Smile,” she whispers urgently. “You’re shaking.”He slowly turns his head.Looks at her.And something inside him finally snaps.He pulls his arm free.The movement alone sends a ripple through the crowd.“What is he doing?” someone shouts.Amandine’s smile stiffens. “Luca—”He steps forward.Directly to the microphones.Lucia’s face drains of all color from the entrance of the building.Eva, watching from a scree

The courthouse is almost empty at this hour—just a skeleton staff, echoing hallways, and the low hum of fluorescent lights that never fully sleep.Luca’s hand is wrapped securely around Aria’s as they step through the doors. His grip is steady, but she can feel the tension vibrating in him, coiled tight beneath the surface like a restrained storm.He hasn’t let go of her once.Not since the highway.Not since the board threatened their son.Not since everything changed… again.They walk toward the clerk’s office, flanked by two of Luca’s men. Silent. Watchful. Ready.Aria feels eyes on them—security guards, night-shift staff, a few late workers who instantly look away when they recognize the man beside her.Luca De Rossi is no longer the polished business icon he once was.Tonight, he looks like a man who would tear down the system brick by brick.And people can feel it.“Breathe,” he murmurs to her without looking down.“I am,” she whispers back.“You’re shaking.”“I know.”He pauses