บททั้งหมดของ The Don's Stolen Bride: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

A year had passed since Sofia's wedding.The garden was more beautiful than ever. The roses had grown taller, their blooms more vibrant. The paths were lined with new flowers—peonies, lavender, hydrangeas. The stone bench beneath the arch of climbing roses was still there, worn smooth by time and love.Sofia sat on the bench, her hand resting on her growing belly. She was five months pregnant, glowing with the joy of new life."I can't believe it," she said softly, looking down at her stomach. "I'm going to be a mother."Marcus appeared, his footsteps soft on the grass. He sat down beside her, his hand covering hers."Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.Sofia smiled, her eyes shining. "I'm more than okay. I'm happy. I'm so, so happy."Marcus leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'm happy too, Sofia. I never thought I'd have this. A wife. A child. A family."Sofia leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. "Neither did I. But here we are. Living our dream."The baby arr

The morning sun rose over the garden, painting the roses in shades of gold and crimson.Isabella stood at the center of the garden, her hands clasped together, her grandmother's necklace warm against her chest. She had been home for a month now, and every day she felt more connected to the legacy her grandmother had left behind.But today was different. Today was special.Today, she was going to plant a new rose bush—a special one, in honor of her grandmother."Aunt Sofia! Aunt Sofia, come quick!" Isabella called out, her voice filled with excitement.Sofia appeared at the door, her face creased with concern. "What is it? Is everything okay?"Isabella beamed, pointing to the ground. "Look! I found it!"Sofia walked over, her eyes widening as she saw what Isabella was pointing at. In the center of the garden, right where the stone bench sat, a tiny rose bush had sprouted—its leaves a vibrant green, its stem strong and healthy."Is that—" Sofia's voice caught in her throat."It's a new

A year had passed since Isabella's wedding.The garden was thriving, more beautiful than ever. The roses had grown taller, their blooms more vibrant. The new rose bush—the one Daisy had planted from beyond—had become the centerpiece of the garden, its deep crimson petals a symbol of enduring love.And today, the garden would witness another miracle.Isabella sat on the stone bench, her hand resting on her growing belly. She was six months pregnant, glowing with the joy of new life."I can't believe it," she said softly, looking down at her stomach. "I'm going to be a mother."Matteo appeared, his footsteps soft on the grass. He sat down beside her, his hand covering hers."Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.Isabella smiled, her eyes shining. "I'm more than okay. I'm happy. I'm so, so happy."Matteo leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'm happy too, Isabella. I never thought I'd have this. A wife. A child. A family."Isabella leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

Ten years had passed since Daisy Rose's wedding.Isabella sat on the stone bench in the garden, her hands resting on her lap, watching her grandchildren play among the roses. She was seventy-two now, her body frail, her steps slow. But her heart was still full of love, still full of gratitude.The garden was as beautiful as ever—more beautiful, even. Her children and grandchildren had taken over its care, expanding it, nurturing it, making it their own.It was her legacy. Their legacy. A testament to the love that had bloomed in the most unlikely of places."Grandma! Grandma, look!"Isabella looked up to see her granddaughter, Elena, running toward her. She was eight years old, with her mother's honey-brown eyes and her great-grandmother's stubborn determination. Her dark hair flew behind her like a banner, and her face was split in a delighted grin."What is it, sweetheart?" Isabella asked, her voice soft.Elena skidded to a stop and held out her hands. In them was a single perfect r

Five years had passed since the hundredth anniversary of the garden.Daisy Rose sat on the stone bench, her hands resting on her walking stick, watching her great-grandchildren play among the roses. She was sixty-seven now, her body frail, her steps slow. But her heart was still full of love, still full of gratitude.The garden was more beautiful than ever. It had grown over the years, expanded, flourished. New flowers had been planted—peonies, lavender, hydrangeas. The arch of climbing roses was covered in blooms, their petals catching the golden light of the afternoon sun.It was her legacy. Their legacy. A testament to the love that had bloomed in the most unlikely of places."Great-Grandma! Great-Grandma, look!"Daisy looked up to see her great-granddaughter, Lily, running toward her. She was six years old, with her mother's honey-brown eyes and her great-great-grandmother's stubborn determination. Her dark hair flew behind her like a banner, and her face was split in a delighted g