All Chapters of BETROTHED TO THE CRAZY DON: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Ambush The nurse adjusted Vittorio's blanket before offering them a gentle smile. "He needs to rest now." Valentina leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss against her father's forehead before reluctantly letting go of his hand. "I'll come back," she whispered. Outside the room, Marco remained by the door, watching through the glass as their father slept peacefully for the first time in days. Alessandro rested a reassuring hand against the small of Valentina's back, guiding her toward the hospital exit where the motorcade waited. Rain had begun to fall, tapping softly against the black SUVs. "Valentina," Marco called. She turned. "I'll be there in a minute." She nodded and continued toward the car with Rosa, leaving the two men alone beneath the hospital awning. Marco's jaw tightened. "I don't know what my father meant." His voice was low, edged with frustration. "He looked at you like... he already knew something." Alessandro's gaze lingered on the rai

The Lesson Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Alessandro's study, painting long bands of gold across the polished floor. Valentina stepped inside carrying a notebook, expecting another lesson on territories, alliances, and the invisible rules that governed the city. Instead... Alessandro reached into a desk drawer. Without a word, he placed a black pistol on the desk between them. The soft metallic click echoed through the room. Valentina froze. Her gaze locked onto the weapon. It looked heavier than she had imagined. More final. "I don't know how to use one," she admitted, her voice barely steady. "I know." She looked at him, hoping he'd change his mind. "I don't want to." "I know." Silence settled between them, stretching until it became almost unbearable. Alessandro rested one hand lightly on the desk. His gray eyes never left hers. "The next person who points a gun at you..." he said quietly, "...won't care whether you want

Smoke Morning broke gently over the De Luca estate, washing the gardens in pale golden light. For the first time in days, the mansion felt almost... peaceful. Almost. Valentina stood in the underground training room, flexing her fingers around the grip of a practice knife. The bruises scattered across her forearms had faded from deep purple to dull yellow, but every ache reminded her of the masked man in the library. Some nights she still woke to the whisper of his blade slicing through the air. Lorenzo stepped onto the mat opposite her. "Again." She nodded, drawing a slow breath. This time she didn't rush. She waited. Watched. When he reached for her wrist, she remembered. Don't fight the strength. Redirect it. She pivoted, caught his arm, and drove her elbow toward his ribs. The strike landed. Not hard. But clean. Lorenzo stepped back, surprise flickering across his face before the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest smile. "There yo

The morning after the family dinner, the De Luca mansion felt deceptively peaceful. Sunlight poured through the library windows, painting warm patches across the polished wooden floor. Valentina sat curled into a leather armchair, a novel resting open in her lap. She hadn't read a single page. Every time she tried, her mind wandered back to the night before. Luca's smile. Too polite. Too cold. Then Sofia's quiet warning. "Not everyone wants my brother to keep carrying this family." The words lingered like a shadow she couldn't shake. A gentle knock broke the silence. "Come in." Rosa entered carrying a silver tray, her usual smile replaced by a hint of concern. "Mrs. De Luca..." She placed the tray carefully on the table. "This arrived a few minutes ago." Valentina frowned. Resting on the polished silver was a single cream-colored envelope. No stamp. No address. No return name. Only two words, written in elegant black ink. For Valentina. A

Losing Himself Three days came and went, but nothing felt the same. The mansion, once softened by quiet conversations and lingering glances, now felt painfully empty. Valentina stopped waiting for Alessandro in the mornings. By the time she entered the dining room, his chair was already empty, his coffee cup long gone. She threw herself into training, welcoming every bruise because physical pain was easier to bear than the ache in her heart. When she wasn't training, she hid in the library, pretending to read while the same thoughts chased each other through her mind. At night, they slept in the same bed, yet it felt as though miles separated them. If they met in the hallway, they exchanged a small nod and kept walking. No arguments. No explanations. Just silence. And with each passing day, that silence grew heavier, slowly becoming something neither of them knew how to break. ****** Late that evening, the underground shooting range echoed with the sharp cra