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Home / Romance / His Nemesis, Her Heartbreak / Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

All Chapters of His Nemesis, Her Heartbreak: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

85 Chapters

Chapter 71:

Ophelia’s POV:Eugene Whitmore stood at the threshold, his green eyes searching mine with a vulnerability that felt entirely misplaced on a man of his stature. Behind him, Ezra stood with his head bowed, his shoulders tense and his brows furrowed in a simmering, poorly concealed anger.“You’re awake,” Mr. Whitmore said. His voice was gravelly, and I could tell he was fighting with every fiber of his being to pull back the iron-clad CEO persona I had been seeing him in the past couple days. I kept my lips pressed into a flat, hard line, physically unable to speak. My throat felt as though it had been coated in dry ash. What was I supposed to say? How does one respond to overhearing that their entire life might be a fabrication? I wanted to scream at him to e

Chapter 72:

Ophelia’s POV:The room felt like it was tilting on its axis. I felt like I was dreaming—not a pleasant dream, but a feverish, disjointed one where the ground beneath my feet was made of shifting sand.Was he serious? Did he truly expect me to swallow this like a bitter pill and thank him for the privilege?I wasn't stupid. I understood exactly what he was implying, but the sheer, gargantuan scale of the claim was enough to make my mind recoil in self-preservation. I shook my head.“You think Mar—Lilah,” I corrected myself, the name tasting like poison on my tongue, “stole your daughter... and that daughter was... me?” I said the words out loud, and just hearing them resonate in the quiet study made me cringe. It sounded like the plot of one of the ta

Chapter 73:

Ophelia’s POV:“How do I know this thing isn’t forged?!” I burst out, my voice cracking under the strain of a decade's worth of suppressed trauma. “How the hell am I supposed to trust you when I don’t even remember you? The earliest memories I have of my childhood are of going hungry. Or feeling cold in an empty orphanage room.”I took a step toward him, my finger trembling as I pointed it at his chest. “And then, when I finally received the mercy of a woman… the woman I considered my savior, my mother… you’re standing here telling me she is some psycho who kidnapped me? That my entire life is a lie constructed by a madwoman?”Eugene didn't flinch. His expression remained etched with a grim, sorrowful certainty. “She not only kidnapped you, Ophelia… sh

Chapter 74:

Damon’s POV:I paced the length of the room. Every few seconds, my eyes would dart toward the phone resting on my desk. It remained mockingly dark.Why the hell has there been no news of her?I didn’t get it. The Whitmores were many things—ruthless, ambitious, and ancient rivals to the Vitale name—but they weren't silent players. Usually, by now, a ransom would have been issued or a public statement made to undermine our stock. But they weren't contacting us. Not a whisper.Valeria had stopped crying a long time ago. The little girl had finally exhausted herself, her small frame yielding to a heavy, restless sleep. A week had already passed since she last saw her mother. Seven days of her waking up, calling out her mother’s name and then going back to sleep after

Chapter 75:

Ophelia’s POV:The plastic of the water bottle crunched under the pressure of my grip. I stood frozen, tucked into the shadow beneath the staircase, my ears straining to catch every syllable of the conversation echoing in the foyer between Eugene and his assistant.Calling the man an "assistant" felt like polite fiction. In this house, he functioned more like a shadow, a second-in-command who would have looked more at home in a smoke-filled room of a mafia commission than a bright, airy mansion. But then again, as the words spilled from Eugene’s mouth, I realized the distinction was purely academic. My biological father’s voice carried a chilling violence that rivaled anything I had ever heard from Marino Vitale. And Marino was a man who built his throne on bone and blood."Make sure he lives. This was just one dose. I

Chapter 76:

Ophelia’s POV:Although Ezra had been completely against this—vehemently, almost violently opposed to it—he had brought me to the hospital anyway. We moved through the city, weaving through the late-afternoon traffic on the outskirts.We’d sneaked out without informing Eugene and so we’d taken the bike for a faster trip.I squeezed Ezra’s waist as he leaned the bike into a sharp turn. “I know you want closure, Ophelia,” Ezra’s voice crackled through the comms in our helmets, sounding strained and heavy with a brotherly concern I was still getting used to. “But I need you to understand that his imprisonment wasn’t your fault. You didn’t put those chains on him. He did that to himself the moment he touched you.”

Chapter 77:

Ophelia’s POV:I stared into the hollowed-out depths of Maximillian’s eyes, and for a moment, the girl I used to be—the one who hid in the shadows of the Vorthas mansion—wanted to run. But that girl was dead now. I stood my ground, the sterile scent of the hospital room clawing at my throat.I shook my head slowly, reaching out as if to brush away the invisible demons haunting him. “No. Max… you aren’t a monster.” Even if a part of me thought otherwise. Right now…I needed to calm him down. To bring him back to reality.“Shut up!”The outburst was sudden, I startled as he lurched upward, his movements jerky and uncoordinated, hindered by the heavy clinking of the chains. He sat straighter, the effort causing the heart monitor

Chapter 78:

Ophelia’s POV:After a long while of that suffocating silence, I spoke up once again. “Don’t you get it, Max?” I asked, leaning slightly closer, though the smell of antiseptic and old blood made my stomach turn. “If we keep blaming ourselves, if we keep spiraling into the past, we’ll drown in this dark void. And I’m done. I’ve been drowning for over twenty years... gasping for air while everyone else held my head underwater.”I thought of Marino’s cold sneer, of the way the Vitale household had felt like a tomb. I thought of the way I had been traded and discarded.“I don't plan on letting the actual perpetrators who destroyed our lives get away with it,” I continued, my voice growing colder, sharper. “And I d

Chapter 79:

Ophelia’s POV:For a second, the world stuttered. Oxygen refused to enter my lungs, and my vision tunneled until all I could see were those haunting, deep purple eyes. Then, in the next heartbeat, the silence was shattered.A deafening, shrill BRIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGG erupted from the walls, vibrating through the floorboards and rattling my very teeth. The fire alarm.My breath hitched as I saw the sudden movement in the lobby. Damon’s head snapped up, his instincts instantly pinpointing our location on the mezzanine. At the exact second where our eyes would have locked—Ezra’s hand clamped around my bicep. He yanked me around with a force that nearly took me off my feet, and we took off into the shadows of the upper hallway.

Chapter 80:

Damon’s POV:I had missed him. By minutes, perhaps even seconds, I had missed the chance to wrap my hands around Maximillian’s throat.He had escaped. The official reports were a mess of bureaucratic excuses, but the security footage—the parts that hadn't been corrupted by a digital loop—told a very specific story. A woman and Ezra Whitmore were the last recorded individuals to enter that room.She had done it. Ophelia had willingly let Max escape.The thought should have enraged me more. It should have felt like a betrayal, knowing she’d freed a man who had tried to claim what was mine. But strangely, that didn't ache half as much as the visceral, bone-deep memory of seeing her in that hospital hallway. For a f

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