All Chapters of THE DON'S MISSING PIECE : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Later in the afternoon, a soft knock echoed through the bedroom door.Cassandra stirred in Dante's arms, her body warm and content. She called out, her voice still carrying the lazy satisfaction of their earlier passion. "Come in."The door creaked open. A young maid stepped inside, her eyes immediately dropping to the floor when she saw them tangled together on the bed. She held a tray laden with food, the smell of fried plantain filling the room."Miss Cassandra, Mr. Moretti," the maid said, her voice soft and nervous. "Martha asked me to bring your lunch. Since you didn't come down for breakfast, she thought you might be hungry."Cassandra smiled warmly, sitting up slightly. The sheet fell away from her shoulders, and she didn't bother to pull it back up. "Thank you. Just give it to me."The maid hesitated, glancing at the table near the window. "I can set it down for you—""It's fine." Cassandra reached out, taking the tray from her hands. "I'll take it. Thank you, and please than

The garden was cold, the night air biting at Cassandra's exposed skin.She stood among the roses, her arms wrapped around herself, staring at nothing. The file was still in her hands—clutched so tightly her knuckles had gone white. She couldn't seem to put it down. Couldn't seem to let go of the truth it contained.Her mother had a brother. A brother who betrayed her. A father who might not be her father.She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the silence. For twenty years, she'd believed she knew who she was. She'd believed she understood her past. And now, in the span of a single evening, everything she thought she knew had crumbled to dust.She touched the necklace at her throat. The silver was warm against her cold fingers.Who are you, Mom? she wondered. What were you hiding?The garden offered no answers.---Dante found her an hour later.She was still standing in the same spot, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed. The file was now tucked under her arm, held against her chest

Cassandra sat in the small, cluttered living room, her hands wrapped around a chipped mug of tea she hadn't touched. The warmth of the cup did nothing to chase away the cold that had settled in her bones.Adrian sat across from her, his face lined with grief, his eyes still red from crying. But there was something lighter in them now—something that looked almost like hope. Like a weight he'd been carrying for twenty years had finally been lifted."I want to know everything," Cassandra said quietly. "About my mother. About who she was before... before all of this."Adrian nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair. "Elena was fierce," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. "She was always the brave one. When we were kids, she'd stand up to bullies twice her size. She'd fight for anyone who couldn't fight for themselves."Cassandra's heart ached. "She sounds like someone I would have loved to know.""She would have loved you." Adrian's eyes glistened. "She talked about you constantly. Even

Cassandra stood at the edge of the road, staring at Isabella's car.Every instinct screamed at her to run. Isabella had betrayed Dante before. She'd fed information to his enemies. She'd nearly destroyed everything he'd built. And now she was here, smiling like nothing had happened, offering them a ride.Dante's hand tightened around hers. His body was rigid, his jaw tight. He didn't trust her. He wouldn't trust her. And Cassandra understood why.But they were out of options."The hunters are still out there," Isabella said, her voice calm. "They'll find you eventually. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow. But they will. And when they do..." She let the sentence hang.Cassandra looked at Dante. His eyes were dark, conflicted."I don't trust her," he said quietly, only for Cassandra's ears."I know." Cassandra squeezed his hand. "But we need her."She made the call.They got in.---The car ride was tense.Isabella drove in silence, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every few

Cassandra woke to the smell of woodsmoke and the warmth of Dante's body pressed against hers.The fire had burned down to embers, casting the small cabin in a dim, orange glow. She was still on the sofa, the file clutched to her chest like a lifeline. Dante was beside her, his arm draped across her waist, his breathing slow and steady.For a moment, she forgot everything. The file. Her grandmother's betrayal. The danger that lurked outside these walls. She just felt him—his warmth, his strength, the steady beat of his heart against her back.Then the weight of yesterday crashed back down on her.She sat up slowly, careful not to wake him. The file slipped from her grasp, pages scattering across the floor. She stared at them—her mother's handwriting, her grandmother's name—and felt the anger rise in her throat like bile.Dante stirred. His eyes fluttered open, finding her immediately."Cassandra?"She didn't turn around. "I need to call her."He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.