All Chapters of His Bride Of Revenge: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

**Stefano's POV**I moved restlessly through the living room, like a trapped predator, my shoes noisily hitting the tiles. My hands shook, not out of weakness, but from an intense rage that seemed to hum with electricity beneath my skin. Elario sat on the sofa with his face buried in his palms, while Luca stood by the door, his body stiff, watching me with wide eyes as if he expected me to explode at any moment.My chest tightened, and the anger ripped out of me. “FUCK!” My voice bounced off the walls hard enough to shake something loose inside me. “I can’t believe this is really happening.”A week. One fucking agonizing, hellish week.Elena had been missing for an entire goddamn week. No calls. No messages. No sightings on any security feeds. No trace of her anywhere. It felt like she had been erased from the earth. I had used every resource at my disposal — every informant, every crooked cop on my payroll. And yet, there was nothing but silence.My fingers curled around a crystal g

**Elena's POV**I woke suddenly, sitting upright on the bed, my heart slamming against my ribs. For a moment, I didn’t move, straining to hear any sound of Dante around, since everywhere was quiet and dark.Where was he?I didn’t even remember falling asleep, which scared me more than anything. For a whole week, I'd forced myself to stay awake as much as I could, terrified he would touch me while I slept.I had no idea what time it was because I'd forgotten my watch on the hospital table.I swung my legs off the bed, pressing the sore spot on my belly where he had kicked me. It still hurt, but sleep had helped. I tiptoed to the door and peeked into the living room.Dante lay on the couch, one arm hanging off the side, snoring lightly. He was shirtless, wearing the same pair of pants he had on earlier. A small plaster covered his forehead from the vase I threw at him.My stomach twisted. This felt like an opportunity.Where was the key?I remembered how he shoved it into his pants pock

**Elena’s POV**I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. If I did, I knew I’d see him behind me. Or worse, I’d imagine him there. My feet hit the wet ground again and again as I pushed through the trees. Branches scratched my arms and stomach, leaving stinging welts all over my body.I kept imagining a hand grabbing my arm and dragging me back; the thought alone made me run faster.It was so cold; I was wearing only a bra and sweatpants, both wet from the rain and clinging to my skin. The wind blew hard, making my skin feel raw, and my teeth chattered so loudly I heard them over my heartbeat.Oh God, please. Just let me survive this night.I didn’t know how long I had been running; minutes, an hour? The forest looked the same in every direction, dark and wide. I couldn’t see a road, houses, or even a distant light.When I finally felt there was enough distance between me and the cabin, my legs gave out. I pressed my palm against a tree to steady myself. My breath sounded too loud, too weak. I

**Stefano's POV**The moment the SUV hit the main road, I grabbed my phone, my fingers fumbling over the screen. I dialed Doctor Romano; he was the only man I trusted with a life this precious.He picked up on the second ring. "Doctor Romano."“It’s Stefano Bernardo.” My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was a rough, raw scrape of sound. “I’m bringing my wife in. We’re in Lombardy. She’s... she’s dying, Doc. It’s critical.”“Yes, of course, Mr. Bernardo. We'll be waiting for her. Bring her directly to the trauma bay,” he said.I ended the call and leaned forward, my hand gripping the back of the driver's seat so hard the leather groaned. “Matteo, get to Gruppo San Donato now. If you have to burn the engine to get there, do it.”“Yes, boss.”I looked down at Elena. She looked like a porcelain doll — pale, still, and hauntingly beautiful even in the face of death. Her skin was so cold it felt like it was burning mine. I grabbed her hand, rubbing her stiff fingers, trying to pour my own h

**Stefano’s POV**The car had been waiting downstairs for five days. I hadn't touched it. I hadn't gone home. I couldn't bring myself to walk away from the door to her room, as if my presence alone were the only thing keeping oxygen flowing into her lungs.Five days passed, and I stayed right here, in this hospital that smelled of disinfectant and sadness, sitting beside her bed as machines hummed. Five days of watching her chest rise and fall. Five days of waiting for something as simple as her eyelashes to move.She spent the first two days in the ICU under constant monitoring. The seizures never returned. Her temperature remained normal. Her brain activity was steady, with no signs that she would need surgery. The doctor finally decided she could be moved to a private ward.Elario and Armando kept going back and forth between the house and the hospital. Luca came every day, and Martina did too. They brought food and a change of clothes, though half the time I forgot to eat. My ches