All Chapters of The CEO’s Secret Triplets: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

​Dante’s hand clamped onto the edge of the hallway console, his knuckles turning a stark, bloodless white. He didn’t look at the door; he looked at Bella. The air in the corridor seemed to solidify, turning the distance between them into a pressurized vacuum. The rhythmic thud at the main entrance wasn’t just a sound; it was the arrival of the one man Dante had spent a decade trying to keep on the other side of the Atlantic.​"Silas isn't coming for the chair," Dante said, his voice dropping into a low, clinical tone that Bella recognized as his ultimate defense mechanism. "He’s coming for the foundation. He knows that if he can prove we’re unfit for even twelve hours, he can trigger the 'Succession Contingency.' He doesn't need to win a board seat if he can simply dissolve the parent-trustee role."​Bella didn't waste time on shock. She looked down at the fax, her mind stripping the legal jargon into its barest parts. "The International Succession Act only applies to multi-jurisdicti

The click of the door latch behind Bella seemed to vibrate through the floorboards of the study, leaving Dante in a room that suddenly felt too small for the weight of her declaration. He stayed where he was, leaning over the desk, his gaze fixed on the empty space she had occupied. The digital tablet sat between them like a ticking bomb. She hadn't just changed the venue; she had redefined the stakes of their entire existence.​He didn't wait for his pulse to settle. He walked out after her, his stride catching up to her at the end of the long, portrait-lined gallery. He didn't reach for her arm—he knew better now—but he stepped into her path, forcing a stop near a tall window that overlooked the rain-slicked gardens.​"Bella, wait."​She stopped, but she didn't step back. She stood so close he could see the slight tremor in her hands before she clasped them together. The air between them was thick, charged with a friction that had nothing to do with corporate bylaws and everything t

​Dante didn’t release her hand. His fingers were warm, a solid anchor in the middle of the foyer that had suddenly become a stage for their supposed devotion. He could feel the pulse in Bella’s wrist—rapid, shallow, like a bird trapped in a cage. Judge Miller’s words about a "genuine union" still hung in the air, a phantom sentence that felt more permanent than any of the legal filings they had spent the morning debating.​"Let go, Dante," Bella whispered. Her voice was low, meant only for him, but it carried a sharp edge that he hadn't heard since the day she first walked into his office.​He loosened his grip, his hand dropping to his side, but he didn't move away. He remained in her space, his height casting a shadow over her that felt less like protection and more like a claim. Around them, the technicians were still packing up, their eyes darting toward the CEO and the woman who had just scorched the earth of the Blackwood board.​"The medical team is at the gate," Dante said, hi

The silence in the foyer felt heavier than the marble pillars rising toward the vaulted ceiling. Dante stood motionless, his phone still pressed to his ear, listening to the static of a disconnected line. The head of the medical group had hung up, but the weight of the revelation remained, pressing against his ribs. Bella had named him. In a sterile hospital room in Geneva, surrounded by the wreckage of their relationship and the shadow of his family’s threats, she had written his name into the only document that mattered.He turned toward the library, his mind already calculating the fallout. By signing the voluntary admission of paternity, he was effectively blinding the board’s ability to use the birth certificate as a weapon, but he was also walking into a financial and legal trap. He was admitting that the Geneva funding—the five million dollars—was a domestic family matter, not a corporate expenditure. It stripped him of his executive indemnity. If the board voted to sue for rec

The weight of the silence following Dante’s announcement about Evelyn was more suffocating than the humidity of the rain-slicked night. Dante watched Bella's face, looking for the flash of panic he expected. Instead, he saw her eyes go cold—a deep, crystalline stillness that he had come to recognize as her most dangerous state."Tomorrow morning," Bella repeated, her voice flat. She didn't move away from him, but the air between them, which had been humming with a tentative, unified heat, suddenly turned to ice. "She doesn't waste time. She knows exactly when we’re at our most vulnerable.""She’s been watching the feed, Bella. She didn’t come out of retirement for a social visit," Dante said. He reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over the dialer for his head of security. "I’ll have the north wing prepped. I can keep her restricted to the formal reception areas. She won't have access to the nursery.""You think you can restrict Evelyn Blackwood in her own family home?" Bella let