Chapter 12
Author: Mel Hope
last update2025-05-24 19:39:46

Elaine’s doubt returned like a tide.

Antonio couldn’t really be Bellagio Group’s hidden boss.

That was ridiculous.

And Cynthia?

Probably just enjoying the novelty of having a pretty boy on her arm.

She nodded slowly.

“You can talk to Alder. See if he’s willing.”

Harry smirked.

Perfect.

He’d already taken Antonio’s wife, and soon, he’d take everything else too.

On the other hand, Antonio didn’t care about it much.

Inside the grand ballroom of Celestine Manor, the air shimmered with an atmosphere of wealth and refinement.

Towering chandeliers bathed the hall in golden light, illuminating the lavish decor—silken drapes, intricate floral arrangements, and glistening crystal glasses raised in toasts.

A live orchestra played an enchanting melody, setting the stage for an evening of elegance.

Among the distinguished guests, Cynthia stood out effortlessly.

Dressed in a flowing sapphire gown that hugged her slender frame, she moved with a grace that left onlookers captivated.

Her luminous ski
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  • Chapter 79

    The question left Florence’s lips before she could restrain it.The dining room grew oddly silent after that, as if her words had wrapped themselves around the air. She felt her own pulse quicken, realizing she had crossed into personal territory. Antonio, however, did not flinch. He leaned back slightly in his chair with the faintest smile curving his lips and his dark eyes glimmering with a knowing light.He understood instantly what Florence’s question truly meant. She wasn’t just being conversational—she was probing, measuring possibilities, and planting seeds. Still, he pretended otherwise, choosing instead to take her words at face value. “Of course I would remarry,” he said smoothly with his tone laced with quiet humor. “Why wouldn’t I? If I found the right woman, I wouldn’t wait an eternity. Life is too short for unnecessary delays.”Florence felt her lips part slightly and her heart warming at his response. There was hope in those words, even if he hadn’t directed the

  • Chapter 78

    She just needed clarity. Antonio paused for a moment, tilting his head as if the question amused him. Then, with calm certainty, he shook his head. “No, Miss Gales, I wasn’t there. But I do know the wine. I’ve kept a few bottles at home—it’s quite enjoyable.” Florence’s lips parted in disbelief. She hadn’t expected that answer, and it left her slightly embarrassed. “You… you already have them?” “Yes,” Antonio replied smoothly, his tone carrying a mix of reassurance and unshakable confidence. “I keep a few different bottles at home—Château Duvall, and some Italian reds I happen to like. It's just something I enjoy from time to time.” As he listed them, Florence’s eyes widened. She knew those names. They were prestigious, expensive, and difficult to obtain unless one had strong connections or a deep wallet. She stared at him, stunned and utterly speechless. Antonio noticed the shock in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking—that only a wealthy man could speak so cas

  • Chapter 77

    She just needed clarity.Antonio paused for a moment, tilting his head as if the question amused him. Then, with calm certainty, he shook his head. “No, Miss Gales, I wasn’t there. But I do know the wine. I’ve kept a few bottles at home—it’s quite enjoyable.”Florence’s lips parted in disbelief. She hadn’t expected that answer, and it left her slightly embarrassed. “You… you already have them?”“Yes,” Antonio replied smoothly, his tone carrying a mix of reassurance and unshakable confidence. “I keep a few different bottles at home—Château Duvall, and some Italian reds I happen to like. It's just something I enjoy from time to time.”As he listed them, Florence’s eyes widened. She knew those names. They were prestigious, expensive, and difficult to obtain unless one had strong connections or a deep wallet. She stared at him, stunned and utterly speechless.Antonio noticed the shock in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking—that only a wealthy man could speak so casually about s

  • Chapter 76

    Mr. Morris,” Florence finally asked.“This herb you speak of—the one you believe can heal Matilda—what is it called?”Antonio leaned back in his chair, arms folding as his gaze held hers. “It’s called Frostheart Bloom.”Florence’s spoon dropped into her bowl with a faint clink. Her lips parted in disbelief, then curled into a faint, astonished smile. “Frostheart Bloom?” she echoed, almost as though she doubted her own ears. “Are you serious?”Antonio tilted his head, puzzled. “Yes. That’s the herb I need. Why?”Shaking her head slowly, Florence let out a half laugh.“Mr Morris… do you have any idea what you’ve just said? Frostheart Bloom is no ordinary herb. It is one of the rarest in existence. In fact,” she leaned in closer, lowering her voice, “it happens to be one of the items listed for the upcoming Gelrith Grand Elite Auction.”Antonio blinked.The Gelrith Grand Elite Auction. Yes, he had heard of it before. The city’s wealthiest and most influential gathered there each sea

  • Chapter 75

    For a moment, Florence thought she was dreaming. The ceiling above her wasn’t the familiar one in her bedroom and the sterile smell of disinfectant and faint beeping of monitors confirmed that she was lying on a hospital bed. Her heart skipped as she tried to push herself upright, but weakness held her down.What stunned her even more was Antonio.What was he doing here, and by her side?Florence blinked several times, wondering if her mind was still clouded.“Mr Morris?” she whispered.“What… why are you here?”She also noticed the doctors she had already known standing just beyond him.Turning her gaze from Antonio to them, she demanded, “What am I doing here? And why is he beside my bed?”A couple of the doctors exchanged knowing looks before one of them stepped closer with his lips curling into a reassuring smile. “Miss Gales, it was Mr Morris who saved your life. Without him, we might have lost you.”Florence’s brows knitted. She stared from the doctor to Antonio, utterly bew

  • Chapter 74

    None of the doctors spoke. They knew Florence had been poisoned, but the culprit remained a mystery—and no one seemed to know where to start. Antonio’s dark eyes scanned the room, taking in the hesitant, uncertain expressions of the doctors. “If you don’t know how to find the person responsible,” he said coldly, “then I’ll show you how.” He turned toward the nearest nurse. “Get the security immediately. I want the camera footage from this ward, from the hospital pharmacy, and from the kitchen.” Some of the doctors stiffened. “Footage? But—” “Do it,” Antonio interrupted firmly. “No excuses. Time is running out, and Miss Gales’s life depends on it.” The nurse hurried to comply, and within minutes, three sets of footage were displayed on the large monitor at the end of the ward. Antonio gestured to the group to pay attention. The ward footage revealed subtle, almost imperceptible movements of Dr. Dennis Tella lingering suspiciously near Florence’s medications.

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