Todos los capítulos de I Was Written to Be His Forgotten Wife: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

[Salvatore's POV — On the Way to Mancini Group]I had driven with Luceille for nearly fifteen minutes before I realized that I had been watching her more often than the road required.She sat quietly in the passenger seat, looking out of the window as the city passed by. The morning sunlight fell across her face, catching the loose strands of black hair that had escaped from behind her ears. She looked peaceful enough to make me wonder whether the events of the previous evening had affected her at all. Then I noticed the way her fingers kept moving against the bracelet on her wrist, tracing the delicate metal whenever she thought I wasn't paying attention.She had done the same thing the night I gave it to her.I remembered how she had looked at the bracelet then, her expression changing so completely that I had been unable to look away. She hadn't asked about its price or the collection it belonged to. She hadn't compared it with the jewellery Clara had received. She had simply held

[Clara's POV — Mancini Mansion]I smiled until the study door closed behind Salvatore.It was a small, practiced smile, the kind I had worn for years whenever I wanted people to believe that nothing could hurt me. I kept it on my face as Alessandro returned to his work and Lorenzo muttered something about having wasted his afternoon. I even managed to laugh softly when Lorenzo glanced at me and apologized for the unpleasantness of the conversation, as though I were the one who had been wronged."It's all right," I told him. "Salvo has a lot on his mind lately. I understand."Lorenzo gave me an affectionate pat on the shoulder before leaving the study. Alessandro barely looked up when I wished him good afternoon, but I didn't mind. I had never needed to be the centre of attention with him. As long as he continued to see me as the sweet, considerate daughter who cared about the family, I could afford to let him believe that I was content with whatever affection he chose to give me.I wa

Salvatore’s POVI had held Lena before.There had been occasions when I had taken her hand in public, guided her through a crowded room, or placed an arm around her because it was expected of me as her husband. Those gestures had always been simple enough to understand. They were part of the role I had agreed to play when I married her, and I had never given them much thought.But holding her while she cried was different.I had not known what to do when the first tear slipped down her cheek. I had watched her wipe it away almost immediately, as though even the smallest display of emotion was something she needed to apologize for. Then she had begun crying in earnest, and the woman who had endured every accusation with a quiet, almost frightening resignation had finally fallen apart in front of me.I had panicked.That was the only word I could use to describe it.I had faced hostile negotiations, corporate crises, and men who believed they could intimidate me into surrendering what b

Marco Carter’s POVThe Carter mansion had always been a place where silence meant obedience.The servants knew it. The employees knew it. Even the members of the family understood the difference between the quiet that followed a pleasant dinner and the kind that descended when someone had displeased the head of the household. Tonight, the mansion had fallen into the latter, its grand corridors unusually still as the rain beat against the tall windows and the grandfather clock in the hallway marked the passing minutes.I stood inside my father's study, a glass of whisky resting between my fingers, while he examined a report on his desk. My uncle occupied the other side of the room, pacing back and forth with the restless impatience of a man who had expected results days ago.The problem was Lena.My little sister had apparently forgotten how to answer her phone."Has she responded?" my father asked without looking up.I took a sip of whisky. "No.""Not even to your last message?""She

Marco Carter’s POVI had always believed that people revealed their true nature when they were denied something they considered theirs.Some became angry. Others begged. A few tried to negotiate, pretending they had suddenly discovered principles they had never possessed before. But sooner or later, most people learned that refusing a demand did not make the demand disappear.Lena had yet to learn that lesson.I sat behind my desk in the Carter mansion, scrolling through the messages I had sent her over the past two days. She had read them, every single one, and responded to none. My calls went unanswered, and when I contacted one of the household staff at the Mancini residence under the pretext of asking after my sister, I was informed that Lena was doing well.Doing well.The words had irritated me more than they should have.She was supposed to be helping us, not enjoying a comfortable life while the rest of the family dealt with the consequences of her incompetence. The documents