He let our daughter die for his ex’s child 16

Posted by adminh, ? Views, Released on March 2, 2025

Chapter 16

The air inside the dimly lit hideout was thick with dust and desperation. The place reeked of cheap alcohol and stale cigarettes–Isabella’s misery seeping into every inch of the rundown apartment.

She didn’t hear me come in.

She was hunched over a table, gripping a half–empty glass of whiskey, her hands shaking.

Pathetic.

The moment she looked up and saw me, her eyes widened in horror.

“Y–You-”

I didn’t let her finish.

Slap!

My palm connected with her cheek, the sharp sound echoing off the walls.

Her head snapped to the side, and for a moment, she just sat there, stunned.

Then she let out a breathless laugh, clutching her face. “You have some nerve showing up here-”

I grabbed her by the hair, yanking her up until our faces were inches apart.

“Shut up,” I hissed. “Before I decide to end you right now.”

Her breath hitched.

I shoved her back into the chair, my movements calm, precise. My gun was already in my hand, the barrel pressing against her forehead.

She froze.

Her eyes darted toward the door, toward the window–searching for an

escape.

There wasn’t one.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” I whispered, tilting my head. “Did you really think you could send men after me and still walk away breathing?”

Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to speak. “I had no choice. You ruined my life, Valeria!”

I let out a cold laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t even started ruining you yet.”

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I pressed the gun harder against her skull.

Her body shook. “Please-”

“You hired assassins to kill me, Isabella,” I cut her off, my voice dropping lower, colder. “You wanted me dead. And for what? Because you couldn’t handle the consequences of your own lies?”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Lorenzo threw me away like garbage!” she spat. “I lost everything!”

I leaned in, my lips curling into a smirk. “And you think you suffered?” I whispered. “You think losing your name, your money, your status was pain?”

I leaned down, pressing my mouth close to her ear.

“You don’t know what real suffering is.”

Then I kicked her stomach–hard.

She gasped, doubling over, coughing violently.

I watched her struggle, watched her hands tremble as she clutched her

abdomen.

Her broken sobs filled the room, but I felt nothing.

No pity. No guilt. Just rage.

“You killed my daughter, Isabella,” I said softly. “And for that, even killing you wouldn’t be enough.”

me.

She stiffened, her bloodshot eyes locking onto mine.

I crouched down beside her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at

“Be grateful I’m letting you live,” I murmured. “Because this way, you get to suffer.”

She let out a ragged breath. “V–Valeria-”

I smirked.

–

I shoved her back, and before she could react, I kicked her a brutal, punishing blow to her stomach.

She screamed, doubling over, clutching herself.

“Stop the fucking act.” My voice was ice. “You were never pregnant in the first place.”

She gasped in pain, writhing on the floor.

And with that, I vanished into the night.

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I sat behind my desk, fingers gliding over the polished wood, as the city lights shimmered through the towering windows of my office. The name Victoria Moretti gleamed on the door–a name I had carved into existence, a mask I had worn so perfectly that even the man who once held my heart had been fooled.

But not anymore.

Lorenzo knew the truth now.

I had exposed myself, stripped away the illusion, and walked away from him without a second glance. I no longer worked as his secretary, no longer played the role of his loyal subordinate.

I was done.

Or so I thought.

The moment the heavy oak doors of my office slammed open, I knew.

I didn’t need to ask how he found me.

He was a mafia boss. Of course, he found me.

The tension crackled like a storm as Lorenzo stepped inside, his movements slow, deliberate.

His hair was disheveled, his tie loosened, his eyes hollow–like a man on the brink of insanity.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other. “You must be desperate to barge in here like this, capo.”

His jaw clenched. “You left me.”

I arched a brow. “I did.”

He exhaled sharply, his fingers trembling at his sides. Then, without warning-

He dropped to his knees.

I stilled.

Lorenzo De Luca, the feared and revered mafia king, kneeling at my feet.

His hands gripped the floor as his head bowed, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

Then, he did the unthinkable.

He kissed my feet.

Desperation seeped from his every pore, his lips pressing against my skin

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I should have felt victorious.

I should have felt satisfied.

Instead, I felt nothing.

A cold laugh bubbled in my throat. “Look at you,” I murmured, tilting my head. “The mighty Lorenzo De Luca, reduced to this.”

He gripped my ankle, his fingers digging into my flesh as he looked up at me with raw, unfiltered agony. “Come back to me, Valeria.” His voice was hoarse, broken. “Please.”

I leaned forward, brushing my fingers through his hair, watching as he closed his eyes at my touch.

Then, I whispered the words that shattered him.

“You killed my daughter.”

Lorenzo’s body stiffened.

I watched as the color drained from his face, his pupils blown wide with madness.

He knew.

He had always known.

But hearing it from my lips–hearing the absolute truth–destroyed him.

His grip on my leg tightened, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. “Valeria…”

2

I yanked my foot away, standing tall as I towered over him. “Get out,” I said coldly.

He remained frozen on the floor, a man who had finally realized the full weight of his sins.

Then, without another word, he rose to his feet, his entire frame trembling. He turned toward the door, each step heavy, slow–like a man walking toward his own grave.