บททั้งหมดของ Matteo Bellandi Buried the Wrong Woman: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 9

When class ended, Leo was the first one through the school doors.A black armored SUV was waiting at the curb, one of Matteo's men at the wheel and another up front. In the back, Sofia sat in a cream dress and heels, polished enough for a gala, not a school pickup.Leo ran straight to the open door. "Mom!"Sofia laughed and pulled him into her arms without hesitation. Then she looked at me over his head, pleased with herself.Matteo was beside her, one arm stretched along the leather behind her shoulders. "Twenty-five and already playing lady of the house?"Sofia arched a brow. "If you don't like it, I can always let someone else spoil me."Matteo caught her wrist and tugged her closer. "Try it."Their laughter followed me into the rain.At the corner, a sedan from the estate rolled up beside me, all dark glass and quiet obedience. Usually I would have gotten in. This time I kept walking.I was too humiliated to let one of Matteo's drivers carry me neatly back into his world. Rainwater

Mrs. Bellandi was smiling at the screen as if she were looking at something perfectly ordinary."Sofia is still young," she said. "Girls her age are not built for a life like ours. Be patient with her."Matteo ruffled Sofia's hair with open fondness. "She's got a temper. One wrong look and she starts a war.""Then don't cross her," his mother said, amused. "Sofia, sweetheart, eat a little more. You're far too thin."I was still standing by the foyer, damp from the rain, bag in hand. I had not even taken off my shoes.So that was the truth of it. Matteo had not run out of tenderness. He had simply given it to someone else, and his mother had made room for her.Mrs. Bellandi finally noticed me. "Elena. You're here.""Just passing through," I said. "Don't worry about me. I'm leaving."It was raining again when I stepped outside.I walked to the old park by the university because some wounds insist on being opened where they began. Once, beneath those trees, Matteo had kissed me and promis

I never meant to see Matteo Bellandi again.The nurse kept her word. The death call was made. The paperwork held long enough. By the time Matteo got to Malta, there was nothing left to identify except a name, a file, and ashes he thought were mine.I came home quietly, moved every liquid asset my lawyers could legally shield, and bought myself a townhouse in the city under a clean holding company Matteo could not touch. Then I opened a small supper club in a neighborhood where people still appreciated low lights, strong drinks, and pasta that tasted like somebody actually loved them. Business caught faster than I expected. Before long, one location had turned into three, and I was spending my nights studying payroll, wine orders, and permits instead of waiting up for a man who never came home on time.Months later, on the night we closed our first truly ridiculous month in profit, my staff dragged me into the private lounge upstairs to celebrate.That was when Matteo's messages started

Ethan kept showing up after that.Sometimes with coffee. Sometimes with legal names I needed to know. Sometimes just to take Leo for gelato or down to the docks, then bring him back sugared up and full of stories about tugboats, card rooms, and why every respectable man ought to tip valets properly.He also found me the kind of divorce lawyer men like Matteo usually hired before anyone else could. That alone should have told me not to underestimate him again. Somewhere along the line, Leo stopped watching him like a stranger and started waiting by the window when Ethan said he'd come.Sofia came to my restaurant two weeks later.By then the place was packed every night, all low lighting and expensive wine, the kind of room where politicians, captains, and women in backless dresses pretended not to clock one another's bodyguards. She stood out anyway, all diamonds and grievance."Don't flatter yourself," she said the second she sat down across from me. "One rooftop stunt doesn't mean Ma