All Chapters of HIS BUTTERFLY (BETWEEN TWO DONS): Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

DANTE.The house is quieter than it has been in years.No phones ringing. No meetings running over time. No men waiting outside my office with problems that apparently cannot survive until morning. Just my family, in the sitting room, with toys scattered across the carpet and the particular low-key chaos of small children who have decided that evening is their most energetic hour.I sit back and watch Sofia on the floor with the children. She has been working all day — I know because I know her schedule and I know the look she carries at the end of a long one — and somehow she still found the energy to come down here and be present for this. That is a thing about her that I have never fully gotten used to, how she shows up for them even when she has already given most of what she has. But I can see the worry underneath it. The way she checks her phone when she thinks nobody is watching. The small thing that happens in her expression when the screen shows nothing. She has been doing it

NICOI turned toward the door. I had heard enough. More than enough. I didn't care what he claimed to know about me or Luca, didn't care about his inheritance speech, and I certainly wasn't about to steal a ledger for a man who had materialized out of nowhere and expected me to take his word for something this large. I took two steps."Nico."I stopped. His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be — it had the particular quality of a voice that has never needed volume to make people stop. I turned my head slowly.. "I left you and Luca in Dante's father's care."I stared at him. "What?""You heard me." He walked toward me, his footsteps measured and unhurried against the marble. "How did you think you ended up growing up with Dante?"I said nothing."By accident?" A faint trace of something moved through his voice. "No." He stopped a few feet away. "I made it happen."My brows pulled together. "You?""Me." He pointed toward me. "I made sure Dante's father—Giuseppe took you both in. I m

NICOThe room was getting harder to breathe in. I could see it in the way Vivian's chest moved on the screen — too fast, too shallow, her body working harder than it should have to for something as basic as air. Every cough that came through the speakers scraped against my nerves like something physical. I wanted to tear the screen off the wall. I wanted to put a bullet between the Alchemist's eyes and watch him fall and then find Vivian and get her out of this building and out of this country and somewhere that had nothing to do with any of this.Instead I stood there. Because Vivian had taught me something long before I understood who she really was. Never react when someone wants you to. Especially when they are watching and waiting for it.My eyes stayed on the screen. Vivian pushed herself upright slowly. She looked terrible — hair everywhere, clothes covered in dust, skin pale under the harsh light of that bare room. She looked like someone who had been through something and was

The worst part about loving someone is knowing exactly what you would destroy for them.NICOVivian's expression changes. The small smile disappears, and suddenly she looks terrified — not because of what has been done to her, not because of the room or the pain or any of the physical things. Because of something she has just remembered. Something that is making her afraid in a specific, directed way."Nico." She looks at me. "There's something I have to tell you.""I know."She blinks. "What?"I take a slow breath. "The Alchemist."Her face goes completely still. "He told me."For a second she just stares at me. Then her brows pull together. "He told you?"I nod. "He says he's my father."Vivian's lips part. "You know?""Yeah, baby." I reach for her hand. "I know.""But how?""I spoke to him."Her eyes search mine. "You spoke to him?""Before I came in here.""And he told you?""He showed me pictures." I don't mention the rest — the way he spoke about leaving us behind, the way he ex

VIVIANI had never felt this helpless before.Not when I was young. Not when I had lost everything that had ever meant anything to me. Not when I had been forced to learn how to survive in a world where weakness was something people smelled on you before they decided what to do with it. I had been in difficult rooms. I had been in dangerous situations. I had been afraid in ways that required me to function anyway because there was no alternative.But this was different.I was locked inside a room with no windows and no clock and no way to know what was happening on the other side of the door. I had no information. No tools. No ability to move or plan or act on anything. Just four walls and the particular weight of not knowing, which I have always found more difficult than knowing even the worst things.I hated it. I hated every second of it in a specific and thorough way.But knowing Nico was out there made it easier. Not completely — nothing could make this situation actually easier.