The Dons Forbidden Wife의 모든 챕터: 챕터 51 - 챕터 60

Serena’s POVThe Romano Group headquarters still knew how to intimidate people. The glass facade reflected the city like a warning, all sharp angles and moneyed arrogance. I felt eyes on us the moment Dante and I stepped through the revolving doors, the quiet snapping into place like a trap. Humiliation had followed me out of the building like a shadow the last time I was here . Now, I walked back in beside Dante.The revolving doors slid shut behind us, and the lobby reacted instantly. Conversations cut off mid-sentence, phones stilled and a few people froze outright, staring like they were looking at a ghost.Whispers started almost immediately."Look at her... she has the nerve to come back?""The fake heiress," a voice hissed from near the reception desk. "She’s lucky the Blacks haven't finished her yet.”“She shouldn’t be alive,” someone said louder than the rest.Dante stopped dead, the temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees. He turned slowly, his eyes sweeping o

Antonio’s POV“Turn it off!”My voice tears through Isabella’s penthouse, rough enough to scrape my throat raw, but the television keeps playing, the same image kept showing like i am enjoying this.I see Serena standing tall in the Romano boardroom looking like she belongs there. The headline scrolls beneath her face in bold white letters.ANTONIO STEPS DOWN FOR THE NEW ROMANO QUEEN.Something inside my chest fractures.“Turn it the fuck off!” I shout again.I grab the crystal vase from the side table and throw it at the screen. It explodes on impact, glass spraying across the marble floor as the image freezes with Serena mid-frame, victorious even in destruction.Silence crashes down.I stand there breathing hard, fists clenched, heart pounding like I just lost a war instead of a seat. My jaw aches from grinding my teeth.Then Isabella laughs.I turn slowly.She’s sprawled across the sofa, one leg draped over the armrest, wine glass balanced in her fingers like this is entertainment

Serena’s pov “Good morning.” Dante’s voice reached me before I opened my eyes. For a second, I didn’t move, I just took a deep breath. The bed was warm, the room quiet, the air carrying the faint smell of coffee and clean linen instead of fear. My body didn’t jolt awake the way it had every morning. I opened my eyes slowly. Golden light spilled through the tall windows, cutting across the dark wood floor and the edge of the bed. Dante was propped on one elbow beside me, watching me like he had nowhere else to be. No phone call, no tension in his shoulders just his eyes, steady and intent, softer than I’d ever seen them. My face heated instantly. He noticed. “There it is,” he said quietly. “You blush when you’re not afraid.” I pulled the sheet up slightly, more out of reflex than modesty. “You’re staring.” “I know.” That should have unsettled me Instead, it made something loosen in my chest.For the first time since I’d walked into the Romano estate, I felt… safe

POV: Dante“Get the jet ready. We’re going to Monaco. Now.”I don’t wait for a reply, I don’t slow the car. The words are already done, already irreversible, the way every order I give is meant to be. The leather of the steering wheel groaned under my grip as I tore away from the estate. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass.I, Dante Romano , a man who had built an empire on logic and cold-blooded precision, had committed the ultimate sin, I had fallen in love and like a fool, I had let that love blind me to the reality of the woman I brought into my bed.I wasn't just a husband; I was a Don and a Don cannot be a cuckold. Every time I closed my eyes, I didn't see the woman I’d held the night before… I saw Antonio’s smirk , I felt his shadow in my own bedroom. The thought of his blood mingling with mine in that house made my stomach turn. I was disappointed in her for the past she couldn't change, but I was more disappointed in myself for caring. Everything irritated me. T

Serena’s pov “I won’t stay in a house where my child was called a stain.”The words come out rough and loud in the empty room. I don’t take them back.I open the wardrobe, rows of dresses stare back at me, they were all made of Silk and Cashmere. Gowns chosen to make a statement, to remind the world that I was the Romano Queen. My fingers brush one sleeve, then recoil. They feel like costumes now, Like chains disguised as luxury.“I can’t take you with me,” I murmur, shutting the doors.I grab a small suitcase instead. Documents go in first, Passports, IDs. Then my hand hesitates over the nightstand. I open the drawer and pull out the old photo of my mother, the edges are worn soft but her smile steadies me.“I’m trying,” I tell her quietly.At the bottom of the drawer, wrapped in tissue, are the baby socks, White and tiny. I bought them days ago and hid them like a crime. My throat tightens as I press them to my chest for a second before tucking them carefully into the suitcase.“