I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 95

Mateo’s POVI walked away from the nursery, holding Isabella’s hand and moved down the corridor. It was for her own good. A child needed boundaries. A Santiago needed structure.I turned to Isabella.She hadn't stopped me. She must be tired from all her nagging too."She will be fine" I said as I took my hand to her back and placed it there.I felt her flinch. It was a reflex he had installed in her. A reflex of fear."Come." I whispered, guiding her firmly away from the nursery. "We need to get you settled. You look exhausted."I led her to the double doors at the end of the East Wing. The Master Suite.I paused with my hand on the brass handle, looking down at her. "Do you remember?" I asked softly.She nodded, though her eyes were empty. "I remember."I pushed the doors open.The room smelt of devotion. I had forbidden the maids from opening the windows for six years. I cleaned it myself. I didn't want the air of a world without her to contaminate this space."Look.” I breathed,

Dante’s POVThe penthouse was silent. It felt hollow.I sat in my leather armchair in the study, the lights off. The only illumination came from the bank of monitors on the wall.On Screen 1: The Santiago stock was climbing.On Screen 2: Galante Tech was plummeting.On Screen 3: A loop of the news footage. Isabella stepping out of the car. Mateo falling to his knees. The perfect, tragic reunion.I watched it. Over and over again for the last twenty hours. I watched her hesitate. I watched Elara hide behind her leg. I watched him touch them.I didn't blink. I didn't throw anything else. The rage that had consumed me on the terrace had simmered into something harder. Something colder.Twenty hours had passed since she left. They left."Dante."The door to my study flew open.Romeo walked in. He arrived just an ago. He asked me so many questions at once. I didn't answer any. So, he waited an hour."What the fuck are you doing sitting in the dark?" Romeo barked, slamming his hand against

Elara’s POV"Beg," Lucas said again, his voice echoing in the small space under the bed. "Say, 'Please, Master Lucas, I am a little rat.'"He dangled the tablet in front of my face. The blue light reflected in his eyes, making him look like a swamp creature. He was smiling, showing teeth that were too big for his mouth. He thought he had the high ground.I stared at him.Papa had taught me about leverage. He taught me that size didn't matter if you knew where the bones were weak. He taught me that a loud enemy was usually a scared enemy.Lucas was loud. And he was holding the device with a weak grip—thumb on the glass, four fingers loosely on the back. His wrist was bent at an awkward angle because he was trying to tease me."I am waiting," Lucas sang, waving the screen closer. "Beg."I took a slow breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth."Galantes do not beg," I said. My voice was quiet. Deadly.Lucas rolled his eyes. "You're not a Galante. You're a—"He didn't finish the