The glass doors slid shut behind Isabella with a soft hiss, sealing in the sterile tension of the hospital corridor. But instead of leaving, she stopped abruptly, her heels halting against the polished floor with a sharp click. Her expression, which had briefly settled into cold composure, twisted again—this time into something harsher.“Call the director,” Isabella demanded coldly.Her voice carried across the nurse station, sharp enough to cut through the quiet hum of machines and muted conversations. A few nearby patients and staff turned their heads, drawn by the sudden authority in her tone.The nurse blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Excuse me?”Isabella’s gaze narrowed, irritation flaring. “You heard me. Call the hospital director. Now.”Alessandro stood slightly behind her, watching the scene unfold, his expression carefully neutral—but his eyes flickered with interest. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t need to. The situation was spiraling exactly the way he wanted.The nurse s

Isabella staggered back as the hospital doors slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing like a verdict she couldn’t overturn. The cold night air hit her face, but it did nothing to cool the fury boiling beneath her skin. Her hands trembled, fingers curling into tight fists as her nails dug into her palms hard enough to sting.“They’ve all been deceived!” she snapped, her voice sharp, almost hysterical. “Every single one of them!”Her heels clicked harshly against the pavement as she paced, her movements erratic, fueled by humiliation and rage. The image of the director’s cold expression replayed in her mind again and again, each repetition twisting deeper into her pride.Alessandro stood a step behind her, his posture tense, his expression carefully arranged into one of shared outrage. “This is too much,” he said, his tone heavy with indignation. “They didn’t even give you a chance to explain.”Inside, however, his thoughts were far from sympathetic.He watched her carefully, noting

The black car rolled to a smooth stop in front of Isabella’s residence—a sprawling estate that screamed wealth from every polished surface and towering column. The gates alone were enough to remind anyone approaching exactly who held power here.Luca stepped out first. His expression didn’t change. Not at the size of the mansion. Not at the guards stationed by the entrance. Not at the quiet judgment in their eyes. To him, it was just another place.Caterina followed, holding the file neatly against her side, her posture straight and composed. Her presence was calm, controlled—like a shadow that moved only when necessary.The guards exchanged glances.“Name?” one of them asked, his tone dismissive.“Luca Doyle,” he replied flatly.The guard’s lips curled slightly. “Wait here.”He didn’t move.He didn’t argue.He simply stood there, hands in his pockets, gaze steady.Caterina remained beside him, silent.A minute passed.Then another.Inside the house, laughter could be faintly heard—li

Isabella’s fingers hovered above the document, trembling ever so slightly before she clenched them into a fist.The hesitation was brief.But everyone saw it.Alessandro’s eyes darkened. “What are you doing?” he snapped under his breath. “Don’t tell me you’re actually considering this.”Isabella didn’t look at him.Her gaze remained fixed on the paper.The divorce agreement.Clean. Simple. Final. Her pride burned.Her humiliation from the previous night still lingered, fresh and raw. The whispers, the laughter, the looks of disdain—it all pressed against her mind like a storm threatening to break.And now—This man.The same man she had dismissed, insulted, treated like dirt—Was standing in front of her, calm and unshaken, asking her to sign.Her lips curled slightly.“You think this is over?” she said slowly.Luca didn’t respond.That silence irritated her.“You walk in here,” she continued, her voice rising slightly, “throw a few pictures on the table, and suddenly you think you hav

The door closed behind Luca with a quiet, decisive click.Inside the mansion, silence lingered like a suffocating weight.Outside, the air felt colder.Caterina walked beside him, her steps measured, her posture composed, but her mind was anything but calm. The confrontation replayed in her thoughts with sharp clarity—the shift in power, the collapse of arrogance, the quiet dominance Luca carried without ever raising his voice.He didn’t slow down.“Are you alright?” she asked.“I should be asking you that,” Luca replied evenly.“I’m fine.”“You’re thinking too much.”She glanced at him briefly. “That’s part of my job.”He stopped walking.So did she.For a moment, neither spoke. The faint sound of wind brushed past them, carrying the distant hum of traffic, grounding the silence between them.“They’ll retaliate,” Caterina said finally.“Let them,” Luca replied.“They won’t accept this quietly. Isabella lost face today. Alessandro lost control. People like them don’t walk away without