All Chapters of His Arranged Protection: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

153 Chapters

MARCO RIVA

~~LENA~~ Niccolò sucked. That was not a new discovery. I had known it for weeks. Still, that morning, the realization irritated me more than usual. My first attempt at getting closer to him had failed completely. I should have expected it. The man had the emotional availability of a locked vault. Looking back, I honestly did not know what I had expected. Perhaps gratitude, trust or a normal conversation that did not end with him either dismissing me or walking away. Instead, I had gotten neither. With a quiet sigh, I pushed the food around my plate for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. I had barely managed a few bites, and even those sat heavily in my stomach. My mind was too occupied with everything I had learned the previous night. None of it made sense, and the harder I tried to piece everything together,

ALIVE...?

The name Isabella Voss stayed in my head long after I left the garden. I did not trust Marco. Not even a little.The man was charming, polite, and entirely too willing to offer information. People like that usually wanted something in return. Still, I was not exactly losing in this arrangement either.He clearly had an agenda, probably a selfish one, but I had questions, and he seemed willing to point me in the right direction. Besides, while I hated admitting it, Marco would never dare cross certain lines.Not while I was Niccolò's wife.Whatever issues existed between the two men, one thing had become clear to everyone in this house. Niccolò was not a joke. And despite all my complaints about him, he was far more decent than I had expected when this whole arrangement started.That thought alone irritated me.When I looked up again, I found Marco still watching me with quiet amus

THE CONVERSATION

~~LENA~~ I remained seated on the floor long after I discovered the photograph. The file lay open beside me, forgotten. My entire attention was fixed on the picture in my hands. Isabella Voss. At least, she had been alive six months ago. I read the handwritten note again. And once more, because apparently my brain had decided that repetition might somehow produce a different answer. It did not. The words remained exactly the same. "Isabella Voss. Alive." I exhaled slowly. "Okay, Lena. Don't panic." Unfortunately, telling myself not to panic had never actually prevented me from panicking. Questions began piling up immediately. Who had taken the picture? Who had been tracking Isabella? Why had they hidden the photograph inside an old personnel file? And most i

THE DINNER TRAP

~~LENA~~I had originally assumed that finding the perfect opportunity to question Niccolò would be nearly impossible.The man rarely remained in one place long enough for an uninterrupted conversation. Even when he was physically present, his mind always seemed occupied by something else. He worked constantly, disappeared without warning, and had perfected the art of avoiding discussions he did not want to have.So, when he returned home that evening and informed me that the entire household would be attending a family dinner hosted by his father, I genuinely thought I had misheard him."We're going out?" I asked, lowering the book I had been pretending to read.Niccolò loosened the cuffs of his shirt without looking at me. "We're attending a family dinner."I frowned. "A family dinner?""Yes."I stared at him suspiciously. "Voluntarily?"That finally made him look at me. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"I folded my arms."Nothing. I just didn't know your family believed in s

WHAT EVERYONE AVOIDED

~~LENA~~The silence was not what I had expected. Actually, that wasn't entirely true.I had expected silence from Niccolò. Perhaps even from his father. I had anticipated a few uncomfortable glances, some awkward shifting in seats, or maybe someone attempting to steer the conversation in another direction.What I had not expected was for the entire table to fall completely silent. The reaction was immediate. And deeply unsettling.Forks stopped halfway to mouths. Conversations ended abruptly. Even the soft clinking of cutlery against porcelain disappeared. It felt as though I had accidentally spoken a forbidden word.For several long seconds, nobody moved. Nobody spoke nor even seemed willing to breathe too loudly. I suddenly became painfully aware that I was still smiling.The smile vanished immediately.Oh God.What had I just done? My gaze moved around the table.Several people were openly staring at me. Some looked uncomfortable. Others appeared curious. One elderly woman looked

A FATHER’S WARNING

~~NICCOLÒ~~ By the time dinner finally ended, I had developed a headache. It wasn't because of the noise. Santoro family dinners had always been loud. With enough relatives gathered under one roof, silence was simply impossible. No, tonight's headache had a name. Lena. I stood near one of the windows overlooking the gardens, with a glass of whiskey in my hand as I replayed the disaster she had created at the dinner table. Out of every subject available for discussion, she had chosen Isabella Voss. Isabella. Even now, I couldn't understand what had possessed her. I had known Lena was curious. Curiosity practically defined her existence. Ever since she had discovered that photograph, I had been waiting for the inevitable questions. It had only been a matter of time. What I didn’t expect was for her to casually mention Isabella's name in front of the entire family as though she were asking about a distant relative. The woman had no survival instincts. Absolutely none

THAT DAY

~~LENA~~ "Why did you say that name, Lena?" The question hit me the second the bedroom door clicked shut. Niccolò did not turn to face me. He stood by the tall, arched window, his back stiff under his dark suit jacket, his hands clenched at his sides. "I asked a question, Niccolò," I said, keeping my voice level. I stood near the foot of the bed, refusing to let my hands shake. "It was a simple question about a woman who used to live in this house. A woman my mother knew." Niccolò turned around slowly. The dim light of the bedroom caught the sharp angles of his jaw. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and completely unreadable. He scanned my face, his gaze lingering on my lips for a fraction of a second before meeting my eyes again. He was reading my lips. My chest tightened. His hearing loss was getting worse, and he was fighting harder to hide it. "Isabella Voss is not a name you throw around at my father's table," Niccolò said. His voice was pitched low, dangerously quiet.

MID-POINT

~~LENA~~ "You need to let me out, Sofia." I kept my voice to a sharp whisper, my hand gripping the cold iron bars of the kitchen window. Sofia froze, the porcelain mug she was drying slipping slightly in her hands before she caught it. She looked toward the hallway, her eyes wide with fear, before stepping closer to where I stood in the shadow of the pantry. "Signora, please," Sofia whispered, her eyes darting to the locked door behind us. "Don Niccolò locked the main bedroom doors for a reason. If he finds out I used the maid's key to let you out of that wing, he will have me thrown out. Or worse." "He won't find out," I said, stepping closer and grabbing her trembling hands. "I need to get to the garage. Just for one hour. If anyone asks, you haven't seen me since dinner." Sofia stared at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She knew the rules of the Santoro house better than anyone. Disobedience wasn't just punished here; it was erased. But she also knew what they w

MID-POINT II

~~LENA~~ "Make it look like a stroke, and do it fast." The cold, flat voice of Silvio cut through the silence of the room. I did not think. My survival instincts, honed by months of living in the Santoro house, took over. I lunged toward the window, throwing myself behind the heavy, dust-caked velvet curtains just as the door handle clicked and swung open. I pressed my back against the cold glass of the window, pulling my knees tightly to my chest. The fabric of the curtain was thick, but I could still see the dim outlines of the room through a small tear in the material. Two pairs of heavy boots walked into the room. "She is awake," the second man said. His voice was unfamiliar, rough and impatient. "Should I hold her down?" "Just keep her quiet," Silvio replied. "We do not need her screaming and waking up the nurses. The Don wants this clean. No marks, no suspicion." Through the tear in the curtain, I watched Silvio step into the pale moonlight. He pulled a small glas

WHO?

Lena's POV "That is a lie." The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I pulled back, pressing my spine hard against the passenger door of the SUV. The interior of the car felt incredibly small, the air thick and suffocating. "My mother was not an informant," I said, my voice rising as the panic began to claw at my chest. "And she would never have an affair with a Santoro. She hated everything this family stood for. She spent her entire life running from you." "She was running from the consequences of what she did, Lena," Niccolò said, his voice entirely flat and empty of emotion. He did not look angry that I was calling him a liar. He just stared at me, his face a shadow in the dim blue glow of the dashboard. "She wanted out of the life. She thought she could trade my family's secrets for a clean slate and a new name." "And your uncle killed her for it?" My hands shook so badly I had to tuck them under my thighs to hide them from him. "You expect me to belie

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