All Chapters of The Vitale Brothers Ruined Me, Then Made Me Their Queen: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

211 Chapters

Chapter 101: The Body Betrays

The tension in the mansion is a physical weight. It sits on my chest, pressing down until my ribs ache.It has been three days since the partition. Three days since Aureliano locked himself in the East Wing and left us to rot in the luxury of the West.But we aren't rotting. We are suffocating.Ciro and Spadino are everywhere. They are a constant, hovering presence. If I stand up, Ciro is there to offer me a hand. If I sigh, Spadino is asking what's wrong. They are trying to fill the void Aureliano left with their own bodies, their own devotion.It is exhausting.I am sitting in the library. I am trying to read a book on Roman history, but the words swim on the page. My head is heavy. My stomach is a knot of cold iron.I haven't eaten properly in two days. The nausea is back, sharper than before. It strikes at random—morning, noon, midnight. I hide it. I swallow the bile. I smile and say I’m just not hungry.But my body is keeping score.Spadino enters the room. He is pacing. Click. C

Chapter 102: The Awkward Dinner

The dining room is a stage set for a play no one wants to perform.The chandeliers are dimmed to a polite, golden glow, but they don't hide the tension. It hangs in the air like smoke, thick and acrid.Aureliano sits at the head of the table.He is miles away.Physically, he is only ten feet from me. But emotionally, he is on another planet. He is wearing a dark suit, his tie knotted with geometric precision. He is drinking wine—the Amarone he opened the night he accused me of theft.He doesn't look at me. He stares at the centerpiece—a massive arrangement of blood-red roses—as if it holds the secrets of the universe.I sit in the middle.Ciro is on my right. He is a wall of solid, silent heat. He isn't eating. He is watching Aureliano, his hand resting on the table inches from mine, ready to intercept a threat that hasn't materialized yet.Spadino is on my left. He is vibrating. He is tearing a bread roll into tiny, doughy pieces, making a pile of crumbs on the pristine white tablecl

Chapter 103: The Run

The chair legs scream against the marble floor.Skreeee.It is a sound of violence. A sound of escape.I don't excuse myself again. I don't look at Aureliano. I don't look at Ciro, who is half out of his seat, his hand outstretched as if to catch me.I just run.I turn and sprint for the door. My heels slip on the polished stone, but I catch my balance on the doorframe and propel myself into the hallway.The air in the dining room was thick with the smell of roast lamb—grease, rosemary, blood. But the hallway isn't safe either. The scent follows me, a cloying, oily ghost that clings to the back of my throat.My stomach contracts. A violent, cramping spasm that doubles me over as I run.Not here. Not on the floor.If I vomit in the hallway, they will see. They will smell the sickness on me, and they will know it isn't just a stomach bug. They will smell the truth.I need a door. I need a lock.I scramble for the powder room under the stairs. It is the closest sanctuary.I slam into the

Chapter 104: The Question

The library feels like a courtroom where the sentence has already been passed, but the crime hasn't been named.Aureliano is standing over me. His hands are flat on the desk, his knuckles white. He is leaning in, invading my space, using his height and his anger to cage me."A mistake," he said. "We will fix the mistake."He meant abortion. He meant purging the intruder. He meant cutting out the part of me that dared to create a life without his permission.I sink back into the leather chair. The leather creaks. Scritch. It sounds like a bone breaking.I look at Ciro.He is standing by the door. He is the only one who knows. He heard me retching. He saw my face. He felt the changes in my body when he lay with me in the dark.He looks at the floor. He won't meet my eyes. He is the Enforcer. His loyalty is to the House of Wolves, not to the stray they let in.I look at Spadino.The Wildcard. The boy who loves chaos.He is standing near the bookshelf. He has stopped crying. His tears hav

Chapter 105: The Explosion

My nod is the detonator.I dip my chin, a single inch of movement, and the library explodes.It isn't a physical explosion. The walls don't crumble. The windows don't shatter. But the air in the room combusts, consuming all the oxygen in a flash of white-hot panic."When?" Aureliano roars.He lunges across the space between us. He grabs the arms of my chair, trapping me. His face is inches from mine, twisted into a mask of terrifying intensity."When did you know?" he demands. "The tests? The ones you hid in the vent?"I flinch. He found them. Of course he found them. He tore the apartment apart looking for reasons to hate me, and instead he found reasons to own me."Yes," I whisper."And you said nothing!"He shoves the chair. It skids backward on the rug. Scritch."You sat at my table," he shouts. "You slept in my bed. You let me plan a war, and you said nothing!""I was protecting it!" I scream back."From who?" Spadino yells.He is on his feet now. He is pacing, a frantic, caged a

Chapter 106: The Math

The silence in the library isn't empty. It’s heavy. It has mass.It presses against my chest like a physical weight, making every breath a battle.Aureliano is still kneeling. His forehead is resting against my knee. He hasn't moved since the confession. He is frozen in the aftermath of the explosion.Spadino is sobbing quietly beside him. Ciro is a statue by the door.But Aureliano’s mind is moving.I can feel it. I can feel the gears grinding, the logic trying to reassemble the shattered pieces of his reality.He lifts his head.His face is a ruin. His eyes are red-rimmed, the grey irises dark with a storm I can't predict. He looks at my stomach. He stares at the flat fabric of my dress as if he can see through it, into the womb, into the DNA."When?" he whispers.It is the same question he asked before. But the context has changed. Before, he was asking about the lie. Now, he is asking about the biology."I told you," I say. "Seven weeks.""Seven weeks," he repeats.He stands up.H

Chapter 107: The Demand

The library door is locked. But this time, I didn't lock it.Aureliano stands in front of the exit. His back is to the wood. His arms are crossed.Ciro and Spadino are flanking me, a protective wall of muscle and worry, but even they look uneasy. They are caught between the brother who leads them and the woman who holds their hearts."A test," Aureliano says.His voice is flat. Dead. It is the voice he uses when he orders a shipment of guns."We need to know," he says. "Now.""I told you," Ciro rumbles. "It’s too early. The doctor said—""I don't care about the blood test," Aureliano snaps. "The blood test takes weeks. I want certainty."He looks at me. His eyes are cold, assessing. He is looking at my stomach like it is a bomb he needs to defuse."Amniocentesis," he says.The word hangs in the air. Clinical. Sharp. Needle-like.I instinctively wrap my arms around my belly."No," I whisper."It is a simple procedure," Aureliano says. "A needle. They extract the fluid. They map the DNA

Chapter 108: The Cage Returns

The door to the West Wing suite doesn't lock from the inside anymore.The mechanism has been removed. There is a hole in the wood where the bolt used to be, filled with wood putty and painted over, but I can still see the outline. A ghost of my autonomy.I am sitting in the armchair by the window. The curtains are open, but the view is different.Below, on the lawn, men in black suits patrol the perimeter. They walk in pairs. They have earpieces. They have guns.They aren't looking out at the sea. They are looking up at my window.House arrest.But it isn't like the first time. It isn't the cold neglect of a prisoner awaiting execution.It is the suffocating, terrified attention of a museum curator guarding a priceless artifact that has already started to crack.The door opens.Ciro enters.He is carrying a silver tray. On it, a glass of water and a small porcelain dish.He walks to me. He moves with a quiet, heavy grace. He looks tired. There are dark circles under his eyes, and the

Chapter 109: The Rage

The room is too quiet.Spadino’s soundproofing works too well. The acoustic foam on the walls swallows every noise, creating a dead, muffled silence that presses against my ears like cotton.I am pacing.Click. Click. Click.My boots on the hardwood floor are the only sound in the universe.I stop at the window. It is closed. Locked. The view is the same—guards, rain, grey sky.I turn around.I look at the tray of vitamins on the table. The horse pill. The red iron supplement. The glass of water, now lukewarm.I look at the pillows Spadino piled on the bed. A mountain of soft, suffocating velvet.I look at the door where the lock used to be.I can't breathe.It starts in my chest. A tightness. A heat. It spreads to my throat, choking me. It spreads to my hands, making my fingers twitch.It isn't fear. It isn't sadness.It is rage.Pure, molten, radioactive rage.I am tired of being handled. I am tired of being protected. I am tired of being a vessel, a prize, a problem, a patient.I a

Chapter 110: The Ultimatum

The room smells of destruction.It is a scent I am starting to like.Spilled perfume. Dust from the torn curtains. Feathers from the ruined pillows. It smells like a battlefield where the smoke has just cleared.I am sitting on the edge of the mattress, my feet resting on a pile of broken glass. Ciro is beside me, his arm heavy across my shoulders.The door opens.Spadino enters first. He stops. He looks around the room. His eyes widen."Whoa," he whispers. "You really did it."He looks at the shattered mirror. He looks at the shredded velvet. He looks at me with a mixture of awe and fear."I told you," Ciro says. "She needed to break something."Aureliano walks in behind Spadino.He stops at the threshold. He surveys the damage.His face is unreadable. He doesn't look angry. He doesn't look surprised. He looks... tired.He looks at me.He sees the blood on my hands (wrapped in Ciro’s handkerchief). He sees the feathers in my hair. He sees the fire in my eyes that hasn't gone out."Ar

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