Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

Serena’s povThe candles were already lit when we sat down.“Eat,” Isabella said lightly, passing a serving spoon across the table. “You’ll need your strength.”The words sounded harmless but the way she watched me said otherwise.The table was set like something out of a magazine, linen napkins, polished cutlery, real wine. Everything looks deliberate. Alex sat beside me, relaxed, leaning back in his chair, talking about the drive up the cliff and how quiet the road had been. He sounded pleased, proud even, like this dinner meant something normal.Isabella moved around us with practiced ease, pouring wine, adjusting plates, smiling at the right moments. She played hostess perfectly, too perfectly.I lifted my fork and took a bite because refusing would have drawn attention. My stomach tightened immediately, It wasn’t the food… It was the way her eyes followed every movement… my hand, my mouth, the pace of my chewing. She wasn’t watching to make sure I ate, She was counting.“She bare

Serena’s POV“Serena… Step away from the edge, now!!”Dante’s voice cut through the wind like a blade. I stood at the cliff’s edge, my boots half-buried in loose gravel, the ocean raging far below me. The spray stung my face, cold and relentless, as if the sea itself was trying to push me forward. One more step and there would be nothing left to decide."No," I shouted over the roar of the waves. "You called me a stain, Dante! You told me you couldn't look at me! Why are you here? To put me in a prettier cell?"Behind him, Alex hovered near the door, pale and confused, his hands lifted slightly like he didn’t know what he was walking into. Isabella stood farther back, no longer elegant, no longer composed. Her scarf was slipping, her face tight with something close to panic.“Don’t come closer,” I said.My hand slid to my waistband. I pulled the bread knife free and held it up between us. The metal caught the porch light. Alex sucked in a sharp breath.“Angela…”“My name isn’t Angela,

Dante’s POV“Dante? Oh God…you’re awake.”The voice reaches me before the light does.It cuts through the fog, through the sharp burn in my chest, through the steady hiss of something mechanical beside me. I try to breathe and pain flares hard enough that I suck in air through clenched teeth.“Easy,” someone says. “Don’t move.”I don’t answer him.I know that voice , I’d know it in hell.“Serena,” I rasp.My throat feels shredded and dry. Every muscle in my body feels like it’s been pulled apart and stitched back wrong. When I finally force my eyes open, the world swims…white walls, harsh light, blurred shapes but then she comes into focus.She’s sitting beside the bed, shoulders slumped, her hands folded together in her lap like she doesn’t trust them not to shake. There’s a faint smear of dried blood along her wrist that someone missed. Her hair is pulled back badly, loose strands falling around her face. Her eyes are red, not puffy from crying… red from holding it back too long.Sh

Serena’s pov“Don’t call me that,” I said quietly.Marco didn’t smile, but something in his eyes sharpened, like I’d confirmed a suspicion instead of denying it.We stood in the dim hospital corridor, the hum of machines and distant footsteps filling the silence between us. Dante’s room was a few meters behind me. One thin curtain. One weak heart monitor. One man who would burn the city if he knew what I knew.Marco tilted his head. “You don’t like old names now?”“I don’t like being watched,” I replied. “If you heard something you shouldn’t have, say it. Otherwise, move.”He glanced past me, toward Dante’s door, then back to my face. “Relax. If I wanted him awake, he would be.”That landed exactly where it was meant to.“What do you want, Marco?”“To understand what game you’re playing,” he said. “Because Antonio doesn’t send messages unless he wants something. And he doesn’t mock unless he thinks he’s already ahead.”My fingers tightened around the burner phone. “You eavesdrop often

Serena’s POV“Mr. Romano, you’re stable enough to be discharged,” the doctor said, flipping through Dante’s chart. “But I need you to understand this is conditional, Limited movement, No stress and absolutely no…”“I heard you,” Dante cut in, his voice rough but steady. “We’re leaving.”The doctor hesitated, then sighed like a man who knew better than to argue. “You’ll need constant monitoring. If anything feels wrong, anything… you come straight back.”“I will,” Dante said.His hand found mine as soon as the doctor stepped away, fingers closing around mine like he was anchoring himself to something solid. His skin was warm, but there was a fragility there that scared me more than the blood and violence ever had.“You okay?” I asked quietly.His thumb brushed my knuckles. “I am now.”They moved him slowly, carefully, helping him into the chair. Every shift of his body made my chest tighten, but he didn’t make a sound. When they wheeled him toward the exit, I stayed right beside him, d