Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE DON'S MISSING PIECE : Kabanata 121 - Kabanata 130

Isabella was in custody.Salvatore was in custody.The nightmare was finally over.Cassandra and Dante returned to the safe house in the early hours of the morning, exhausted but relieved. Samantha was recovering in one of the guest rooms, her bruises fading, her spirits slowly lifting. The house was quiet—peaceful. The kind of quiet that came after a storm.But Cassandra couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.She sat by the window in the bedroom, staring at the sunrise. The sky was painted in shades of gold and pink. The world outside was waking up—birds singing, leaves rustling, life continuing.Dante was asleep behind her, his arm draped across the empty space where she'd been lying. He'd barely slept in days. She didn't want to wake him. But she couldn't sleep either.Her mind was racing.She kept thinking about Evelyn. Her grandmother. The woman who had raised her. The woman who had betrayed her. The woman who had died before Cassandra could get answers—before she

Cassandra couldn't stop thinking about her grandmother's letter.The words were burned into her mind—Evelyn's handwriting, Evelyn's confession. I introduced your mother to Vincent. I thought I was helping her. I didn't know what he was.But there was more. There had to be more. Evelyn had known about Vincent for years. She'd known what he was capable of. She'd known what would happen to Grace. And she'd never told anyone. She'd never warned her daughter. She'd never tried to stop it.Why?The question haunted Cassandra. It followed her through the days—through the meals she barely ate, the conversations she barely heard, the nights she barely slept. It whispered in her ear when she closed her eyes. It screamed at her when she was alone.She needed answers. She needed to understand.---She started digging.She went through Evelyn's old journals—the ones she'd found in the closet, buried under piles of old clothes. They were dusty, their pages yellowed with age. Evelyn's handwriting fi

Cassandra woke before the sun.She lay still for a moment, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, her heart pounding against her ribs. Today was the day. Her wedding day. The day she would marry Dante Moretti—the man who had saved her, loved her, held her together when she was falling apart.She turned her head. Dante's side of the bed was empty. He'd slept in a separate room last night—a tradition, Samantha had insisted. The groom can't see the bride before the wedding. Cassandra had rolled her eyes, but she'd agreed.She sat up slowly, her hand resting on her stomach. The baby kicked—strong, steady."Good morning, Grace," she whispered. "Today's the day."---Samantha burst through the door an hour later.She was carrying a garment bag, a makeup case, and a tray of coffee. Her hair was still in curlers, her face bare, her eyes bright with excitement."Up! Up! Up!" She set everything down on the bed. "We have three hours. Three hours to make you the most beautiful bride in the world."Cassan

The news played on a loop in the safe house.Marcus Kane's face filled the screen—his cold eyes, his sharp features, his hands cuffed behind his back as he was led into a police car. Reporters shouted questions. Cameras flashed. The city was in chaos.Cassandra sat on the sofa, Dante beside her, their hands intertwined. She should have felt relieved. She should have felt victorious.But something was wrong.She couldn't shake the feeling that they'd missed something. That the puzzle wasn't complete.---She picked up the necklace.Her mother's necklace. The one that had started everything. The silver pendant gleamed in the light, the intricate engraving catching her eye.She traced the pattern with her finger. Something was off. The encryption she'd cracked before—it had been complex, layered. But there was something else. A second layer she'd missed.She brought it to Dante's tech team.They worked for hours—analyzing the code, running decryption programs, cross-referencing data. Cas

Elena's confession shattered Dante.He stood in the doorway of her room, his body rigid, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His mother sat before him—pale, trembling, tears streaming down her face."You hired him," he said. His voice was hollow. "You hired the man who killed Grace Hayes.""I didn't know—""You didn't know?" His voice rose. "You hired a killer, and you didn't know what he would do?"Elena sobbed. Her hands reached for him, but he stepped back."Don't.""Dante—""Don't touch me." His voice cracked. "Don't speak to me. Don't look at me."He turned and walked out.---Marco took Elena away that night.Dante didn't say where. He didn't care. He just wanted her gone—out of his sight, out of his house, out of his life.Cassandra found him in the study, standing by the window, staring at the darkness outside. She crossed the room slowly, her hand resting on his back."I'm sorry," she whispered.He didn't respond."I know what it's like to be betrayed by the people wh