All Chapters of Too Broken To Be Healed : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Matteo Rinaldi’s POV I had felt pain before, but what gripped my heart at that moment was excruciating. I could barely endure the sight before me. Why was she drinking alone at the bar? What have I done? I moved a little closer. Her eyes were red and swollen. Had she been crying? Looking at her beautiful face stained with tears, memories of our marriage flooded my mind. Alessia had always been there—loving, kind, thoughtful, patient. Almost flawless. And I broke her. I have failed you, Alessia. If only I had not allowed Giulia to poison my mind. If only I had learned to love Alessia better. If only I had known earlier what she endured in the hands of the Conti family. If only I had been there. Lost in my thoughts, my mind drifted back to how I uncovered the malicious lies and schemes of the Conti family against Alessia. A few weeks after marrying Giulia, I had visited their ancestral home. She had suggested the trip, claiming she missed the place where she grew up. As I

Alessia’s POV What the heck! As the early morning light filtered through the curtains, I groaned. My head pounded like a third world war was going on inside it. I shifted slightly as I felt a warm body beside me and then turned to see who it was. His long and perfect body lay beside me—naked just like I was. I quietly lifted the covers to check myself, and the memories from yesterday began flooding back. I had met up with Camellia and Arianna, we had a lot to drink, and they left earlier. I remembered how the alcohol dulled my senses and clouded my judgment. And then Matteo had appeared; he took me home, but his presence stirred something within me I had long tried to suppress. Now, in the harsh light of day, regret gnawed at my insides. The last thing I wanted was a one-night stand with him. I should have known better than to get involved with a married man—especially one with whom I shared a complicated history. My eyes glanced over his fingers. The rings were gone. I shifted

Alessia’s POV Italy’s morning sun streamed into my room, casting a warm glow. I yawned and got off the bed, stretching. Quickly, I went to freshen up and paused before the mirror. Over the years, my body had changed—I had gained a little weight, my face had grown softer, and I felt more beautiful than ever. I dressed and moved downstairs to prepare a quick breakfast for the kids: scrambled eggs with fresh bread and a cup of latte for each of us. I headed to the boys’ room, expecting a struggle to get them ready for school, but they surprised me with their excitement. Tiziana was just as lively when I entered her room. Today must really be a good day, I thought, smiling as they all ran down to the breakfast table. The room was filled with chatter and laughter. “Promise Mummy you’ll tell me all about your day when you get back,” I said, looking at them with a pleading smile. “Of course, Mummy! We’ll tell you everything,” Tiziana giggled. I nodded warmly. “You boys must take care

Matteo Rinaldi’s POV As I stepped into the lively casino in Italy, the flashing lights and buzzing atmosphere immediately pulled me in. It was crowded as usual, and irritating as ever. “Look who we have here.” I turned to see Luca walking toward me with a glass of wine in his hand. “Long time no see, brother,” he added as we shook hands and patted each other’s shoulders. “Yeah. Long time,” I replied. We walked past the half-naked dancers, the men deep in card games, and several other distracting sights before finally reaching the private suite. “Brother!” Marco called out excitedly, pushing aside the woman clinging to him. “Marco,” I smiled. “Seems some habits are too precious to outgrow.” They laughed. “Well, a man’s got to do what a man must,” Marco replied with a shrug. We settled in and ordered more drinks. Marco sent the woman away, leaving just the three of us in the suite. “How have you been, brother? Did you miss us?” Luca asked. I raised a brow at him. Miss their

Matteo Rinaldi’s POV I arrived at my parents’ home as soon as I received my mother’s message. I paused for a moment outside, staring at the familiar structure, letting memories wash over me before finally stepping inside. The Rinaldi estate carried the quiet dignity of old Italian wealth. Every corner reflected refined elegance—classic décor, antique paintings, and luxurious furnishings that spoke of generations of legacy. “Ah, look who finally remembered his way home.” I turned to see my mother, walking gracefully toward me. She was dressed in one of her finest silk gowns, tailored perfectly, the kind worn by women who had spent their lives moving between villas, galas, and endless vacations across Italy. “Hello, Mother,” I greeted, pulling her into a hug and kissing her cheek. “Oh, my son,” she said warmly. “How have you been?” “I’ve been well,” I replied briefly. Just then, my father walked in. I took most of my features from him—tall, sharp-eyed, and dignified. He was a