All Chapters of The Dons Forbidden Wife: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Serena’s povVictor’s voice fades into the dark, and for a moment the only sound left in the warehouse is the faint buzz of the overhead bulb and my own uneven breathing.Marco doesn’t move.He stands there watching me, studying the cracks Victor’s words left behind. I refuse to look away, even though my heart is pounding so hard it makes me lightheaded.Then something shifts in his expression.“Tie her tighter,” he says calmly. “Use the blades… I want a video sent to my father’s private line. I want him to watch every second of her agony. I want him to see exactly how ruthless I can be when I’m pushed."My stomach drops.Two guards step forward immediately. The leather restraints around my wrists are already cutting into my skin, but they pull them tighter. The straps dig in until my fingers start to tingle.“Marco,” I say, forcing steadiness into my voice. “You don’t have to do this.”He lets out a short, humorless breath. “You still think this is about necessity?”He moves closer,

Serena’s POV Marco… I’ll never forgive you…”The words scrape out of my throat, broken and barely audible, but I know he hears them.The pain inside me is no longer sharp or isolated. It is deep and tearing, spreading from my lower abdomen through my spine, forcing the air from my lungs in uneven bursts. The cuts on my arms burn, but they are distant compared to the agony twisting through my womb.I try to lift my head but my vision flashes white.When it clears for a second, I look down, I see Blood pooling beneath the chair. It slides across the concrete in slow, spreading lines.“NO!!!”“Please,” I choke. “My baby… please…”My stomach tightens violently again, and I scream until my throat feels raw. The sound echoes off the metal walls of the warehouse and comes back to me distorted.Across from me, Marco stands still with his phone in his hand. He is watching the screen, replaying what just happened as if reviewing footage instead of witnessing destruction.“You did this,” I whi

Serena’s POVThe door opens again, I sit upright before I can stop myself, heart slamming against my ribs.The maid steps in first. Her face is pale, tense. Behind her, half-hidden in the shadow of the corridor, is a woman in an oversized grey servant’s uniform.Her steps are slow and Careful.When the door shut behind them, she lifts her head… her hair is completely white not from age alone but from stress, from captivity, from years of something that hollowed her out. Her cheeks are thin, her wrists fragile beneath the fabric but her eyes…Her eyes are my eyes.She freezes when she sees me , her lips part with utter shock.“Martina…” Her voice cracks. “My God… you’re alive.”The name hits me again, but this time it lands differently.My heart pounds so hard it hurts. She takes one unsteady step forward, then another.I don’t recognize her face. I search it desperately, trying to find something familiar, some memory that matches the ache in my chest… nothing comes but something ins

Dante’s povThe image of Serena in that video will not leave my head. Her face pale, Her body trembling with Blood on the floor beneath her.I replay it again and again and again.It’s so frustrating that I don’t know where her location is no matter how many times I’ve watched the video… the area looks seemingly obscure to me .My phone rests in my hand, It feels heavier than a weapon. The screen lights up, it’s an Unknown number calling. I pick it up immediately “If this is Marco, I swear to God I will…”“Don’t hang up.”The voice is female, I notice she is Shaking and breathing hard like she’s hiding somewhere she shouldn’t be.I sit forward immediately. “Who is this?”“You don’t know me,” she says quickly. “But you need to listen.”My jaw tightens. “Start talking.”“She’s at Blackwood Estate.”Everything inside me stills.“Where?” I ask quietly.“Hidden room behind the library wing. There’s a passage through the west corridor. It looks like shelving, but it’s reinforced. That’s w

Serena’s POV“Dante…”I didn’t know if I said his name because I wanted him to save me or because I needed to hear how it sounded one last time.The smoke was no longer creeping… it was consuming. It rolled along the ceiling in thick, black waves before sinking lower, swallowing the room inch by inch. The air burned when I inhaled… My lungs felt scraped raw, each breath thinner than the last.I pressed my face into the heavy velvet curtain, desperate for clean air, there was none. The fabric smelled like dust and heat and something metallic. My vision began to blur, the edges of the room melting into a dull orange glow.Outside, gunfire thundered through the estate. Men shouted commands.“Dante is here.” The thought should have filled me with relief. Instead, it tangled with everything else…the photograph, my mother’s voice, the image of him standing in smoke years ago.The photograph slipped from my fingers. I didn’t even feel it leave my hand. It floated down through the smoke and