Elaine’s lips parted and her chest rose with a shallow breath. She clenched her fists slightly.
Antonio had been a loser, nobody clinging to her for support! She thought he would be groveling after the divorce, devastated and broken. Yet here he was…Dressed in a tailored tux, calm as ice, with the most unattainable woman in the city on his arm. How’s that possible?! How dare he?! Rage flooded Elaine’s veins. She couldn’t stand being replaced so fast. Made her feel like the lesser woman in front of Antonio. “Antonio!” Elaine called as she stormed across the room, heels clacking like war drums, and came to a halt in front of them. "Antonio!" Antonio stopped, but he didn’t turn or flinch and his expression remained unreadable. “What the hell are you doing here?!" Elaine’s eyes flicked to Cynthia, then back to Antonio. “How the hell did you convince Miss Cynthia to show up here with a nobody like you?” She sneered, arms crossed. “Is this some kind of pathetic stunt? What? Did you really think showing up with a woman would make me jealous?” Antonio almost laughed out loud. Instead, he glanced at her with a look colder than the winter sea. “Not everything is about you, Elaine.” Cynthia raised a brow. “He’s my plus one, if that wasn’t obvious.” Elaine's lips twitched in disbelief. “Plus one?” Her voice sharpened. “Why would someone like you bring him?” Cynthia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “That’s simple. Mrs.—oh, sorry, Miss Elaine.” Cynthia put extra weight on the word “Miss”. Her eyes casually raking over Elaine from head to toe, unimpressed. “Just because you didn’t see Antonio’s value, doesn’t mean the rest of us are blind.” The words struck like a slap. Elaine’s fists clenched at her sides. Her whole body tensed. But she didn’t dare snap at Cynthia, no matter how much jealousy, bitterness, and rage surged in her chest like a rising storm. Not when Cynthia was the CEO of Bellagio Group, and Elaine’s company was still dreaming of sealing a deal with them. So instead, she spun on Antonio and let all her fury pour out on him. “Oh, I get it now! So you were cheating on me this whole time, huh?!” “You’re suddenly dating someone just hours after we’re divorced? Really?” “Or was it going on before the papers were even signed? Is that it?!” “That’s why you were so damn quick to walk away! Because you already had someone lined up!” Antonio turned to her with a cold expression. “It’s none of your business, Elaine.” “We’re divorced, remember?” “Who I’m with now isn’t your concern. You lost that right the moment you signed the paper.” Elaine’s breath caught and her chest tightened. Just then, another voice slithered into the conversation. “Cynthia, my dear CEO.” Harry Gibson said, stepping forward with a smug smirk, “I can’t. believe it! I thought you’re smarter than that.” Elaine turned, eyes lighting up at the sight of him. Harry radiated confidence in his sharp gray suit. Compared to Antonio, he was the epitome of power and wealth. At least, that’s what Elaine told herself. “You’ve been misled, Cynthia.” Harry continued, “This Antonio? He’s just a parasite,” “First he clung to Elaine, now he’s latched onto you!” “It’s his pattern. He survives by leeching off powerful women.” Cynthia let out a cold laugh. “Are you done?” Harry ignored her, eyes gleaming. “You should know, Cynthia, you shouldn’t argue with us because of this nobody.” “After all, you're not really the one pulling the strings at Bellagio. Everyone in the industry knows who’s really in charge.” “A man no one’s ever seen… The true heir of the Morris family!” The crowd buzzed. Antonio tilted his head slightly. Now he was paying attention. Harry smiled wider, sensing the shift. “And my company? We’re about to sign a deal with him—the real boss of Bellagio.” He was bragging, completely clueless about who the real boss behind the Bellagio Group was. But he’d heard the rumors. And he was convinced he’d get close to that person eventually. “Once that deal goes through, Cynthia… I’ll be the one calling the shots. Not you.” “And as for this good-for-nothing fool...” Harry sneered at Antonio. “Well, I’ll make sure this city never sees his face again.” Murmurs spread through the crowd, with people pitying Antonio for overstepping his bounds and trying to appear important. "That guy is about to regret crossing paths with Harry Gibson," someone whispered. "Harry's about to seal that deal with Bellagio Group, and the lowlife would be kicked out of the City. What a pity?" "He should have just stayed in his lane." Most of the crowd agreed—it was bound to be a nightmare for Antonio! Elaine’s breath hitched. She looked at Harry with something close to admiration. That was the kind of man she always wanted. Dominant, capable, connected. But just as Harry was basking in his imagined victory, a quiet voice broke through. “That’s impossible.” Everyone turned. It was Antonio. Harry narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?” Antonio took a slow step forward. “You said you’re closing a deal with Bellagio Group’s real owner?” “Yeah,” Harry said. “That’s right.” Antonio smiled. “No, you’re not.” Harry’s expression twitched. “You think I’m bluffing?” Antonio slipped one hand into his pocket. “I know you are, Harry.” “Because the person behind Bellagio Group... is me.” "And you will never secure a partnership with Bellagio Group!"
Latest Chapter
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.
Chapter 73
The doctors standing around Florence’s bed exchanged uneasy glances. One by one, their faces drained of color with the reality of what was happening finally sinking in. Florence’s chest rose and fell unevenly and her pulse fluttered weakly beneath the nurse’s trembling fingers. The beeping machines sounded like death tolls, with every irregular rhythm echoing through the sterile air. Antonio’s words had been dismissed as meddling arrogance. After all, what did he know compared to their collective years of medical practice? Yet now, watching Florence’s condition worsen by the second, they realized the cost of their defiance. Antonio had told them not to administer the medication. He had even warned them of the possible outcome. But pride and a deep distrust of him made them ignore his counsel. Now Florence’s body was shutting down, and guilt hung in the air like a suffocating fog. The security team, having been summoned earlier because Antonio was deemed disrupti
Chapter 72
The doctors shoved him aside, pressing him back against the wall. Then they moved with brisk precision, preparing instruments, rolling syringes, and discussing Florence's condition in low, hurried tones. Antonio tried to read their faces, but their expressions gave him no comfort—only a cold efficiency. Just then, the door to the ward swung open and Dennis Tella walked in. His white coat looked almost too large for his lean frame, and he carried himself with the eagerness of someone desperate to prove himself. “Dennis, come here quickly,” one of the senior doctors called out, waving him over. “Yes, sir,” Dennis replied, rushing forward. The doctors immediately began assigning him tasks. “Prepare the syringe.” “Fetch that bowl—yes, that one.” “Mix this medicine together and bring it to me.” Dennis obeyed without question, moving quickly between the table and the bed. Within minutes, he handed the prepared mixture to the senior doctor, who nodded and prepared to in
Chapter 71
Antonio’s expression remained cold and unreadable as the torrent of insults and discouragement from the doctors rolled over him like water against stone. He ignored their shouting, their jeers, and their warnings about risking Florence’s life. He moved closer to Florence and carefully adjusted her head, tilting it slightly to better assess her condition. He studied her face, noting the pale tinge of blue around her lips, the subtle rise and fall of her chest, and the labored pulse in her neck. His fingers pressed lightly against her wrist, measuring the rhythm and strength of her pulse. He then traced her temples, feeling the faint heat radiating from her feverish body. Everything told him that time was slipping away and that every second counted. After a long period of meticulous assessment, Antonio withdrew a small container from his bag. It was unassuming with its exterior covered with a rough brown wrapping. Inside, the substance looked like clay, dry and gr
Chapter 70
Antonio’s eyes were sharp, cold, and unyielding as he turned to face the head physician. “I know exactly what I’m saying,” Antonio said firmly. “Step back, all of you. If you truly value her life, give me the space I need to try and save her—and I want no interruptions.” The team of doctors surrounding Florence’s bed exchanged glances of disbelief. Had they heard right? Their white coats, pristine under the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights, contrasted with Antonio’s dark, travel-worn attire. Their skepticism was palpable and their professional pride was hurt that an outsider—a man they barely respected—had the nerve to tell them what to do. One of them—a short, broad-shouldered man with glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, sneered openly. “Step back? You?” the doctor sneered. “You’re not even a licensed physician—you’re a reckless fraud! Florence is fighting for her life, and you actually think your cheap tricks with needles will save her? Pathetic! D
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