All Chapters of From Wife to Boss: His Greatest Regret: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

THE paper in Alessia’s hands trembled just slightly. It was not enough for anyone else to notice, but just enough.The doctor was still talking. His voice was calm and measured and professional. Words layered over words, explanations following explanations, but none of it was landing. None of it was staying.Because all she could see… were the lines on that sheet, as they stood clear, definite and likely unarguable.Her eyes ran over them again, but slower this time, as if reading them differently might change something. As if there had been a mistake, a mix-up, something, anything. Because they just had to be.But there was nothing. No errors, no doubts, just truth, the underlying truth, and it didn’t match the life she had been living.Her fingers tightened around the edge of the report.Four years.Four years of quiet shame. Of careful silence. Of swallowing questions before they could even form. Of pretending not to notice the looks, the whispers, the way conversations would pause

TIME ticked.One second. Two. Three.Too long.And then Alessia had seen enough.She turned on her heel, ready to walk away and that was when Damien noticed her. Vanessa too.“Okay. You didn’t see us?” Damien’s voice cut in.She stopped, but didn’t turn immediately. Her fist clenched at her side.Vanessa chuckled, soft and low.“Youuuu never could tell,” she said, dragging the words just enough to irritate.Alessia slowly turned back to them. Her face was calm, too calm.“I thought you were at work, Damien. I didn't expect to see you here.”Vanessa rolled her eyes.Damien scoffed.“Exactly. At work, while you lazy about all day here, doing nothing.”The words hit.Of course they always did.Alessia exhaled slowly, holding it in, holding everything in.Across from her, Vanessa giggled again, one hand resting on her swollen belly, rubbing it like it was something to be displayed.“Okay,” Alessia said quietly.Just that.She turned to leave.“Don't dare move an inch, Alessia.”Her steps

THE steady beeping of the monitor filled the room. Slow and consistent. Alive.Damien sat on the metal chair beside the bed, his head resting back against the wall, eyes closed, fingers loosely clasped together. The tension in his jaw hadn’t eased since they got here.On the bed, Alessia lay still.An oxygen cannula rested beneath her nose, the thin tube looping over her ears. An IV line was fixed into her hand, clear fluid dripping steadily into her veins. A pulse monitor clipped to her finger blinked faintly with each beat, tracking what her body was still trying to stabilize.Her skin had lost that frightening flush from earlier, though faint redness still lingered along her neck. Her breathing, though shallow, had evened out.The door opened quietly and a nurse walked in, clipboard in hand.Damien’s eyes opened immediately. He straightened.“How is she?” he asked.The nurse moved to the bedside, checking the monitor first, then the IV line. Calm. Routine.“She is stable,” she said

THE house had finally quieted.The mess from earlier was gone— cleared, wiped, arranged back into something presentable. The dining table now sat neat and polished, as though the chaos from hours ago had never happened.Damien stood by the table, stacking the last of the plates.“Careful,” Vanessa said lightly from the couch, watching him. “You might break something.”He glanced at her, a faint smile pulling at his lips.“Then I will just have to make another one,” he replied, carrying the plates toward the kitchen.She chuckled softly, adjusting her position, one hand resting over her stomach.“You cooked well,” she added, almost lazily. “I didn’t expect that.”Damien let out a small breath, rinsing one of the plates.“Neither did I,” he admitted. “But if that is what you want, I will figure it out.”Vanessa’s smile deepened.“That is what I like to hear.”“You would make a really good husband,” she added after-thought.On the table, his phone lit up.It buzzed once. Then again.Vane

SILENCE stretched between them, heavy and charged.Damien’s question still hung in the air.“Who the fuck is Carl?”Alessia didn’t answer.She simply maintained her focus and attention to the table, like the question hadn’t even reached her. Like he hadn’t spoken at all.She picked up the lid of one of the food containers, her movements calm, unhurried.She was doing this on purpose. That alone irritated him.Damien inhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. He dragged a hand down his face, forcing himself to steady.“Alright…” he muttered under his breath.Then louder,“I’m asking you again.”A pause.His voice dropped, sharper this time.“Who… is Carl?”That was when she stopped, not abruptly, just enough. Then she turned. Slowly.Her arms folded loosely across her chest, a faint, almost amused smile playing on her lips.“Well,” she said lightly, “he is just a friend if you must know.”A beat.“An old friend. From before we got married.”Damien let out a dry, humorless laugh.“An old frie