All Chapters of I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Dante’s POV Isabella body went entirely rigid. She slowly turned her head to look at me, completely overwhelmed. "A... a Zia?" Isabella stammered as she gripped my forearm. "Dante... what does she mean?" I didn't flinch. I just shifted my posture, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist to support her, knowing her knees were threatening to give out again. "I told you I spent months digging through Gabriel's buried files, tesoro.” I replied softly, brushing a stray, tear-dampened curl away from her cheek. "I didn't just find your mother. I found the life that was stolen from you. I didn't want to tell you in the car because I was afraid it would be too much at once." Isabella stared at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her mind tried to process the impossible. Before she could form another question, the soft sound of footsteps echoed from deep inside the house. "Mama?" A bright voice called out from down the narrow hallway. "Chi è alla porta? I thought the flour delive

Isabella’s POV"Too much?" Irene asked, turning to the side and frowning at her reflection in the mirror. "Or just enough to make him regret not calling me back immediately after our first date?"Irene was getting ready for date and the walk-in closet in the guest wing looked like a mess. Silk scarves draped over chair backs, three different pairs of stilettos were kicked onto the mat.I sat on the velvet ottoman in the center of the chaos, clutching a glass of wine I hadn’t really touched, watching Irene hold up a slinky dress against her body in front of the full-length mirror."You said it yourself, Irene, he is not a monk.” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. "If you wear that, he is going to have a heart attack before the appetizers arrive."Irene grinned, tossing the dress onto the 'maybe' pile which was dangerously close to falling and grabbing a black slip dress instead. "Good. I like them weak." She paused, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "But have I told you? You

Dante’s POV"There goes the menace." I murmured as I watched Irene walk out of the front door and carefully adjusted a microscopic plastic hinge."Zia Irene is not a menace, Papa.” Elara corrected me immediately with the kind of tone she had absolutely inherited from me. "She is a tactical distraction.”I let out a soft chuckle, leaning back on the rug. I was wearing dark slacks and a charcoal button-down, sitting cross-legged on the floor, completely surrounded by thousands of brightly colored Lego pieces.For the last hour, the ruthless CEO of Inferno Tech had been taking direct orders from a seven-year-old architect."A tactical distraction?" I raised an eyebrow, looking across the plastic battlefield at my daughter. "Who taught you that phrase?""Zio Romeo." Elara answered without missing a beat. She shoved a tiny plastic knight onto the highest tower of the fortress we were building. "He said Zia Irene distracts the enemy with her outfits so he can flank them. Papa, we need more

Isabella’s POV Four months later, the tiny secret I had whispered to Dante in our living room was no longer a secret. It was a very visible, very round bump that made putting on my own shoes a daily challenge. Now, I was sitting on the examination table, my legs dangling off the side. Dante had refused to let me go to a normal hospital for my check-ups. Instead, he insisted I get check up in the clinic in our penthouse. Again. And, of course, the only doctor he trusted to touch me was his own brother. "Your blood pressure is perfect, Bella." Romeo, who was wearing a crisp white doctor’s coat over his usual expensive clothes, said with a bright smile. He gently took the blood pressure cuff off my arm. "You are glowing. Truly. Motherhood looks very good on you." "Thank you, Romeo," I smiled, placing a hand over my stomach. The baby kicked gently against my palm, a tiny flutter that still made my heart skip a beat. Dante, however, did not look relaxed. My husband was stan

Isabella’s POV My breath hitched, catching painfully in my throat. The careful, measured distance Dante had kept between us for the last four months completely vanished. In its place was a raw, burning intensity that made my pulse pound in my ears. "Yes.” I whispered as my hands drifted down to rest on his broad shoulders. "He did." Dante’s dark eyes were entirely black, completely consumed by a hunger he had been forced to lock away. He moved his hands from my round belly, sliding them slowly, agonizingly up my waist. His large palms flattened against my ribs, his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts through the thin silk of my nightgown. "Do you have any idea.” Dante murmured, his voice a dark, rough rasp that sent a shiver straight down my spine, "what it has done to me? Sleeping next to you every single night. Smelling your skin. Feeling your heat. And forcing myself not to touch you?" "Dante..." I breathed out, my eyes fluttering shut as he leaned forward, pressing an