Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 211 - Chapitre 220

Luciano didn’t flinch, nor did he betray any hint of anger. He simply stated, “Rosie, he is my son, and you cannot deny it. I have ways to prove he carries my blood.”His icy composure terrified Rosa far more than an outburst would have. She couldn't lose her child; she wouldn't let anyone tear him away.“Your son? How dare you call him that?” she hissed through gritted teeth. Luciano narrowed his eyes, a silent warning, but she pressed on. “He is mine alone. He carries my blood, not yours.”Her eyes glistened as the painful reality set in: the man standing before her held all the power. How could she ever hope to win? Yet, she refused to concede. She would fight until her final breath. No one would take her child from her—not even God.She took a deep breath before turning around. Samuel was watching her with curious eyes, while Reid stood nearby, his face etched with a heavy frown of worry. Even the hospital staff had paused, lingering like spectators to a brewing storm.Rosa grabbed

“You... you’re threatening me?!” Her eyes went wide, wet with hurt and fresh pain at the thought of Lucy and Samuel being dragged into this danger because of her.“No, I am just giving you options. Otherwise, you know I don’t ask. I never ask,” he said, his voice turning commanding and cold. Rosa felt it—the ruthless Italian Don was back.“That is exactly what a threat is!” she retorted.“Baby…” He stepped closer and lowered himself in front of her, slow, deliberate. His hand rose to her cheek, but Rosa turned her face away sharply.For a second, he went still.Then he exhaled, patience thinning.“You really thought you could steal my sperm…” he said, voice low and cutting, “carry my child… and vanish?”His fingers closed around her jaw this time, firm enough to make her look at him.“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”Her breath hitched.“You don’t get to make a fool out of me and walk away breathing as if nothing happened.” His thumb brushed under her eye, catching a tear—but ther

“Renzo, sweetie… you always wanted to know about your dad, right?” Rosa said softly, watching her son’s face.“Yes, Mommy,” Renzo replied, his expression turning sad. He had asked about his father before, and she had always given the same answer—that he had left and never come back, maybe gone missing. It was the only way she could explain it without making him feel unwanted.Rosa took a breath.“So… I found him.”She held it, waiting for his reaction.“Really?” Renzo’s eyes widened, surprise flickering into something brighter—hope. “You found him?”“Yes, baby boy.” She gave a small, gentle smile, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “I did.”Her chest tightened.“That man… Mr. Luciano Mancini…” she said, her voice barely steady.“He’s your father.”Renzo looked at her with a small pout.“You’re playing a game again, aren’t you?” he asked, frowning, his tiny face scrunching up. “Do I have to pretend he’s my father?”He thought it was just like before—when they made him play along

Rosa stared at the message for a long moment. Her finger hovered over the screen, ready to type a reply… but she stopped herself.No.It was better this way—for him to stay away from her and Renzo, and out of the Italian don’s reach.She let out a quiet sigh, placed the phone back on the nightstand, and draped her arm over her eyes, trying to force herself to sleep.*Meanwhile, after dinner, Luca looked over at Lucy, his voice softer than before. “Should I drop you home?”Lucy hesitated before answering, her voice quieter than usual. “I don’t have a home in this city anymore.”They had given up the studio apartment. There was nothing left for her to go back to.Luca frowned slightly. “Who says you don’t have one?”Lucy looked at him, confused, caught off guard by the certainty in his tone.Then he added, almost casually, “I have a small apartment. If you want… you can stay there.”For a second, she just stared at him.Did he just ask her to move in?Her heart skipped.No… maybe not. M

Lucy’s heart broke listening to him.She couldn’t imagine a childhood like that—so cold, so cruel.And she knew he was telling it simply, almost calmly… but living through it must have been brutal. No ten-year-old should have to face that kind of rejection—being cast out by his own father, his own blood, for someone else.She tightened her hold on his hand, her eyes soft with something deeper than sympathy.Understanding.“I went through a juvenile trial,” Luca continued, his gaze distant now. “My own father pressed charges against me.”Lucy’s breath caught.“The first night in custody… I cried,” he admitted quietly. “I was scared. Hungry. I kept thinking he would come back once the punishment was over. That I’d apologize… and everything would be fine again. That I’d just stay quiet, never argue, never give them a reason…”He let out a low, humorless breath.“But I was wrong.”His eyes hardened slightly.“In court, all of them stood against me. My father… his wife… even their children.