Semua Bab The Debt of the Virgin Widow: Bab 61 - Bab 70

"Wake up, damn it! Dante, breathe!" Bianca’s voice cracked, a raw, desperate sound that scraped against her throat as she pumped her palms into his chest. The smell of burning pine and scorched stone from the Vane estate filled the air, heavy and choking. She didn't look back at the pillar of white fire. Her focus was the cold, grey skin under her hands."One, two, three, breathe!" She pinched his nose and forced air into his lungs. His lips were cold. There was no resistance, no reflex. Just the hollow, terrifying stillness of a body that had given up. She slammed her fist against his sternum, a dull thud echoing in the quiet woods. "You don't get to leave me! Not after that!"The distant wail of sirens began to cut through the ringing in her ears. Blue and red lights flickered through the trees, throwing long, distorted shadows across the dirt. She felt the vibration of tires on the access road, the heavy crunch of boots on dry leaves."Over here!" a voice barked.Bianca didn't stop

"Who authorized this transfer? I didn't sign off on a single cent leaving the Vane liquidity pool for the Zurich merger," Bianca snapped, slamming the leather-bound ledger onto the obsidian boardroom table. The heavy thud echoed against the glass walls, making the two directors at the far end jump."It was a legacy standing order, Miss Vane," Miller stammered, his eyes darting toward the bloodstain on the floor that the janitorial staff hadn't quite managed to scrub out from Arthur’s exit. "Arthur set it up months ago. We didn't think—""That’s your first mistake. Thinking is my job now. Yours is to follow the money and bring it back." Bianca leaned forward, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table. The amber in her eyes didn't fade; it burned like a low-yield fire. "If that capital isn't back in the primary account by the time the markets open in Tokyo, I’m not firing you. I’m auditing your personal offshore holdings. Every. Single. One."Miller turned a shade of grey

“Who the hell are you?”Dante’s voice didn’t just crack the silence; it shredded it. He sat upright in the hospital bed, the thin paper gown straining against his shoulders. The monitors spiked, a frantic beep-beep-beep echoing the jagged rhythm of his breathing.Dr. Aris stepped forward, hands raised in a calming gesture that only made Dante’s eyes narrow. “Dante, take it easy. You’ve had a massive concussion. You’ve been out for days.”“I asked a question.” Dante’s hand clamped onto the metal bed rail. The steel groaned. He didn't look at the doctor. His gaze was locked on Bianca, standing at the foot of the bed. “Why is this woman in my room? Why is she looking at me like I’m some kind of ghost?”Bianca’s breath hitched. She took a step closer, her hand instinctively hovering over the slight swell of her stomach. “Dante? It’s me. It’s Bianca. Please tell me you’re joking. This isn't funny.”Dante’s lip curled. A sneer. A cold, sharp expression she hadn't seen in years. Not since th

“Dante! I know you’re in the rafters! Come down and face me like the man you think you are!”Bianca’s voice bounced off the charred remains of the safe house. The scent of soot and damp rot hung heavy in the air. This place—this skeleton of a home—was where the war used to stop. Now, it was just another graveyard. She stood in the center of the living room, her feet crunching on broken glass. Rain lashed against the roofless ceiling, soaking her leather jacket.“You’re shouting at shadows, little girl.”The voice didn't come from above. It came from the corner where the kitchen used to be. Dante stepped out. He didn't look like a husband. He looked like a predator. His eyes were flat, scanning the room for exits, for traps, for the quickest way to kill her.“I’m not a girl. I’m the woman who owns half your books. Put the knife down.”Dante flipped the blade in his hand. The steel caught the moonlight. “You own what I let you keep. I’m taking the rest back tonight.”He lunged.Bianca m

“You really think a fall like that wipes three years of a man’s life by accident?”Sofia stepped from the shadows of the nursery, her heels clicking against the hardwood like a death march. She didn't look like a woman who had been hiding for months. Her dress was crisp, her lipstick a violent shade of crimson that looked like dried blood in the dim night-light.Bianca bolted upright from the rocking chair, her hand flying to the holster she now wore even inside her own home. “How did you get past the sensors? I have men on every floor.”“Your men are loyal to a ghost, Bianca. Or they’re loyal to the highest bidder.” Sofia leaned against the doorframe, checking her nails. “Arthur’s payroll runs deep. Deeper than the Moretti foundations. You want to know why Dante looks at you like you’re a stranger? It wasn’t the concussion. That was just the excuse.”Bianca’s fingers gripped the armrest of the chair. “What the hell are you talking about?”“The hospital. St. Jude’s isn't just a medica