All Chapters of His Bride Of Revenge: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

**Elena’s POV**The breakfast felt like sawdust in my mouth. I took small bites of the eggs and toast, but I couldn't taste anything. Every swallow was a struggle. My throat felt tight, as if it wanted to reject everything. But I forced myself to chew and swallow. I did it for the tiny heartbeat inside me. After the last plates were cleared, we moved into the grand living room. This room was full of my childhood memories. I remembered playing on the rug as sunlight hit the heavy curtains. I remembered the smell of expensive leather and the feeling of safety. I had always thought my father was the strongest man in the world. I thought nothing could hurt me while he was near. But today, I didn't know what to think anymore.He sat in his large chair and leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. He looked much older than I remembered; the lines around his eyes were deep, and his skin was gray."Bella," he began, his voice thick with worry. "I tried to call Stefano. I wanted t

**Elena’s POV**The question still hung in the air, cold and heavy. *Did you kill him?* My father’s mouth opened, and I watched his lips, desperately waiting for the truth to finally come out. But before a single word could escape, the heavy living room doors burst open, and one of his security men rushed in, breathing hard, sweat beading on his forehead, holding a tablet tightly in his hand."Boss," the man panted, trying to catch his breath. "We have the information you requested about the shootout at the Lorusso estate."Armando sank back into his leather chair. The look of vulnerability I thought I saw earlier vanished in an instant. It was replaced by the cold, hard steel of a Don. He looked like a man who was back in control."Speak," he commanded, his voice flat."It was Stefano Bernardo," the man said, holding up the tablet. "He entered the compound alone, wiped out Raffaele and every single one of his men yesterday. The police are there now. The place is a graveyard."My fath

**Lucia POV**The first thing I felt was the light. It was the bright, harsh light of a hospital, burning through my eyelids, forcing me to come back to a world I was not sure I wanted to see again.Then came the pain.It started in my shoulder, a deep, steady throb. It felt like someone was driving a thick, rusted nail into my bone. Every time my heart beat, a sharp shock ran down my arm, making my fingers move on their own. I tried to breathe, but the air caught in my dry throat. My mouth tasted like old pennies.I lay there for a moment, trying to think. I remembered Elario’s face. I remembered the way he screamed my name; his eyes had been wide with a desperate kind of love. I knew that love was a lie, but it was the only card I had left to play. Calling him had saved my life. But I was not safe yet. I knew the clock was ticking. Between the police and Elario’s questions, this hospital bed was just a cage, covered in white sheets.I didn't know how long I had been asleep or what t

**Elena’s POV**Three days.For three days, I had been a prisoner in the room where I used to dream of fairy tales. The door opened only three times a day to deliver a tray of food. It was carried by a silent guard who refused to meet my gaze. He set the tray down and walked out. My own father had turned my bedroom into a prison cell.With every hour that passed, my regret grew heavier. I should have gone to a hotel after being discharged from the hospital. I should have run away while I had the chance. I should have known that in this family, love is just another word for control. My father didn't love me like a daughter; he loved me like a piece of jewelry he wanted to keep in a box.I was staring out the window, watching the garden as the sun went down. Then I heard the lock turn. I didn't move or even turn my head. I didn't want to see him. The door creaked open, and I felt my father’s presence behind me. "Bella," he said, his voice smooth and gentle. It was the voice he used whe

**Stefano’s POV**After I cut the call on Elena, I stood in the middle of my study. The room was dark, lit only by a single lamp on my desk. I was clutching Martina’s phone so hard that my hand began to cramp. I thought the screen would shatter in my palm.I didn't mean to snap at her. In the hollow space of my heart, I knew it wasn't her fault. I knew she had tried to save Martina. She had called to warn us, but I was the one who didn't listen. But the rage was a living thing inside me. It felt like a wild animal clawing at my ribs, trying to get out, and Elena was just the easiest target for my pain.I had promised her I wouldn't go after her father again. I had promised to let the past stay buried in the dirt where it belonged. But Armando Castellano had dug it up himself. He hadn't just declared war with words; he had stained my home with the blood of innocents. This war wouldn't end with a handshake or a business contract. It would end with his life. I wanted to see the light lea