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Chapter Eighty-Nine : Matteo's Alive

Autor: Nathy Fiverr
last update Fecha de publicación: 2026-07-20 01:01:19

Thursday arrived the way life changing days often do.

Looking completely ordinary.

The sky outside was the same pale grey it had been all week. The coffee maker hummed in the kitchen. The house followed its usual morning routine. Shower. Clothes. Breakfast. Nothing hinted that this day would split their lives into before and after.

Natalie had learned not to trust ordinary mornings.

She was dressed by seven in a dark jacket and comfortable flats. Standing before the mirror, she studie
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  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Eighty-Nine : Matteo's Alive

    Thursday arrived the way life changing days often do. Looking completely ordinary. The sky outside was the same pale grey it had been all week. The coffee maker hummed in the kitchen. The house followed its usual morning routine. Shower. Clothes. Breakfast. Nothing hinted that this day would split their lives into before and after. Natalie had learned not to trust ordinary mornings. She was dressed by seven in a dark jacket and comfortable flats. Standing before the mirror, she studied her reflection for a moment. It wasn't vanity. It was a quiet check to make sure she was ready. She was. Downstairs, Lorenzo was already waiting in the kitchen. He handed her a cup of coffee without speaking. They stood side by side in comfortable silence, the kind shared by two people who had already said everything that mattered the night before. "My team is already in position," he said at last. "How many?" "Enough. Every exit is covered. Two men inside, three outside. Anita wil

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Eighty-Eight : Re-strategize

    The file Anita sent was forty three pages long. By the time Lorenzo came downstairs, Natalie had already spread every page across the dining table. His hair was still damp from his shower, but the moment he saw the documents, something changed in him. The grief he had carried over the past few days quietly disappeared behind calm focus. He stepped closer. "What did Anita find?" he asked. Natalie handed him the first page. "Three important things. First, Fiona's communication records with the unknown contact. Second, a report tracking my aunt's movements over the last three days." She paused. "The third one is what really matters." Lorenzo lowered his eyes to the page. He read silently for a few moments before looking back at her. "She made a mistake." Natalie nodded. "Yes." For months, Fiona had been incredibly careful. She rarely made mistakes. Every message was coded. Every meeting was planned. Every move was calculated. But no one could stay perfect forever. Eventu

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Eighty-Seven : Sophia Carreti

    She found Lucian in the garage.He was standing beside his car with his keys in his hand and a bag at his feet, the kind of bag that said he had already made a decision before she got there. He looked up when he heard her footsteps and something in his expression settled, not relief, not quite. The look of a man who had been waiting without knowing he was waiting."You're leaving," she said."Thought it was best," he said.She looked at the bag. Then at him."Lorenzo asked you to go," she said. Not accusatory. Just placing it."Lorenzo didn't have to," he said. "I was there, Natalie. I saw his face in that doorway." He turned the keys over in his hand once. "There are things you do to people you love without meaning to and there are things you do knowing exactly what they'll cost. Last night was the second kind." He looked at her. "I'm not going to keep costing him things."She stood with that for a moment."Where will you go?" she asked."I have a place," he said. "I'll be fine. I'm

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Eighty-Six : Jealous Husband

    Dinner was a performance.That was the only word for it. Two people seated across a table, passing dishes, pouring water, existing in the same room with the practiced ease of people who had done this many times except that tonight something sat between them that neither of them named, a presence as real as a third person at the table, eating all the food and saying nothing.Lorenzo was courteous.That was the worst part.Not cold in the obvious way, not clipped or short or visibly withdrawn. He asked her how her afternoon had been. He mentioned something Anita had sent over about the shop. He refilled her glass without being asked. Every gesture was exactly what it should have been and not one degree warmer, and she sat across from him and felt the distance like a physical thing, like a drop in temperature in a room where the windows hadn't moved.She had tried to speak to him on the stairs.She had caught him in the hallway before dinner and said his name and he had turned and looked

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Eighty-Five: His brother wants me.

    Her little nemesis found her , or rather she found him in the library.He was actually reading, legs stretched out on the old leather sofa near the window, a book open across his chest, the afternoon light falling across him in the particular lazy way it did in that room at that hour. He looked unbothered. Comfortable. Like a man with nothing on his conscience and nowhere pressing to be.She had always found that quality in him disarming.Today it just made her tired."Lucian," she said.He looked up. Saw her face. Closed the book."You look like you've had a day," he said."Several," she said. She came and sat in the armchair across from him not close, not pointed, just the nearest available seat. She had told herself on the way down the stairs that this would be a simple conversation. Necessary but simple. She would say what needed saying and he would hear it and that would be that.She was already sensing it wasn't going to be that."I need to talk to you about something," she said

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Eighty- Four: The silence between Them

    Lorenzo told her everything in the kitchen. Not in the study where strategy lived. Not at the long table covered in files and photographs and carefully organized plans. The kitchen. Morning light spilled through the windows, pale and quiet. A cup of coffee sat untouched between them, already going cold. Somewhere outside, gravel shifted softly beneath the gardener’s rake. Ordinary sounds. Ordinary light. And then Lorenzo told her that Viktor knew she was the witness. Not recently. Not because of some mistake they’d made. He had always known. Natalie stared at him without speaking as the words settled heavily into the room. But it was the next part that changed everything. Lorenzo told her he had known too. Before the wedding. Before the contract. Before she ever stepped into this house. The reason he had taken her away from Viktor Roman on what was supposed to have been her wedding day had never been convenience or business or even strategy. It had bee

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Sixty-Two : Little to Imagine

    His gaze sharpened, a shadow passing over his face. “That’s irrelevant now. It was a mistake to even consider it.” “Tell me,” she urged, stepping closer, her hand finally reaching out, her fingers brushing his arm. The contact was electric, a jolt of raw sensation. “Please, Lorenzo. Tell me the t

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Sixty-One : Begging for mercy

    The next morning, the mansion felt different. The air was heavy, thick with unspoken words and an oppressive silence. Lorenzo was gone. His usual early morning presence, the faint scent of his coffee, the distant sound of his voice on the phone—all absent. Anita, her eyes downcast, brought her a

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Fifty-eight : Blurred lines

    The attack, though repelled, left an unsettling residue. Lorenzo tightened security, his movements more watchful, his gaze more intense. He still pursued the truth of Marco’s death, still pressed Natalie for memories, but there was a subtle shift in his approach. The urgency was still there, but

  • The Devil Who Bought Me    Chapter Fifty-Four: Devilish Temptation

    He carried her, not towards the door, but deeper into the room, towards the opulent, king-sized bed that dominated the far wall. Each step was a deliberate, powerful declaration, her body swaying with his rhythm, her face buried in the crook of his neck, inhaling the intoxicating musk of his skin,

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