Married to the Wrong CEO

Chapter 92: Get Out(...)

"If I ever see you again in this country for any reason whatsoever you’ll regret it!" He told her taking one more step towards her until their faces were right next to each other.

She could feel his presence overwhelming her. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

His heated breath in he nose almost like he wanted to kiss her but his icy expression made it clear that he had no such intentions.

The closeness felt suffocating rather than intimate.

"...If I ever see you near my child, I’ll make you disappear!" He directly told her even as tears flooded Dora’s eyes since it was obvious that he had taken what she said as a form of extortion.

Her vision blurred as the words sank in. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Worse, his demeanor towards her had clearly worsened in a way that he was not even trying to hide how disgusted he was to stand beside her.

Every glance felt like a silent accusation.

Sex? She could even forget about testing with him as she slowly opened her mouth to speak to me.

Her throat tightened painfully.

Her voice trembling, "my dad needs it? You Don’t have to give me...I’ll...I’ll work to pay for..." but Dante didn’t let her finish before he interrupted her gesturing for her to leave with his hands even as he spoke.

Her words fell apart under the weight of his silence.

"You open your mouth and ask for 500 million while you carry my child yet declare that you were simply asking? Do I look like a fool to you?" He snapped louder than she had ever heard him speak.

The sound made her flinch.

"Get out!" He ordered.

"Get out!" He ordered and Dora couldn’t bring herself to remain in the room as tears flooded her eyes. Trying to stubbornly remain and convince him was definitely not going to go well, especially since it was clear that he was struggling not to have a louder outburst towards her.

With tears brimming in her eyes, she simply turned around and left, unable to do anything else. She returned to her room crying as she sank to the floor, realizing she had made a mistake.

She couldn’t even call her best friend Llara since it was a plan Llara had warned her against, outrightly saying it would backfire on her. Now that it had, the last thing she wanted to do was call her and list out all her mistakes.

"I messed up," she mumbled to herself over and over again even as she wiped her eyes and stared at the ceiling of her room.

The trim itself was luxurious, not to mention the ceiling. It was clear that a lot of work and attention had gone into every detail of the bedroom area, the walk-in closet, and the bathroom. It was almost like another house on its own, but at that moment Dora could care less about all of that.

As she stared blankly at the ceiling, all she cared about was how to get Dante not to hate her like he clearly did. She wished she could turn back time so she could fix the mistake she had just committed.

But no matter how hard she thought, nothing popped up in her mind. Eventually, she stumbled to her bed and fell asleep.

She woke up later, scrambling out of bed to take a shower and dress up, hoping to catch Dante before he headed to work. Maybe with the calmness of the morning she would be able to explain to him.

But barely had she gotten to the door of the dining room when she met Guila, who was in charge of the affairs of the mansion.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bellini," Guila greeted, but Dora didn’t care about the greeting as she pushed open the door, not particularly surprised to see that it was empty.

The dishes had been laid out like usual, but this time it was clear that no one had touched them.

"Mr. Bellini didn’t eat?" She asked, turning to Guila, who had a very professional look on her face, like nothing but her job mattered to her.

"Mr. Bellini didn’t eat," Guila responded, speaking in her usual clipped but warm tone. "I asked him why, but he simply said he would be eating at work going forward."

It was more information than Dora felt she deserved.

"Your food is warm and you need to eat a lot! Especially for your health and the baby!" Guila continued in her usual tone.

Dora was aware that Guila had been much more caring than she would otherwise be ever since it became public knowledge that she was pregnant. Still, she had no choice but to head in like she usually would, going ahead to sit on her chair and eat, even if the food felt a bit blander in her mouth than usual.

There was a clear difference in the air, an awkward tension she could feel, aware that Dante might decide not to return—or worse, move completely to a different estate.

After eating as much as her stomach could take, she got up and headed back to her room. The last thing she wanted to do was head to the hospital and see her father and stepmother’s faces.

Calling Llara was out of the question, which left wallowing on her bed. But she had barely moved toward it when one of the nurses assigned to her instantly stopped her by stepping into her path.

"You need light exercise. Your body needs to be stronger to prepare for when the baby gets bigger!" the nurse—whose name Dora had forgotten—said. Her blond hair and beautiful features were almost something Dora felt jealous of as she simply nodded her head and headed upstairs to where the gym and workout room were.

There was no trace of happiness on her face since, apart from all the things she needed to focus on, she still needed to exercise.

If she hadn’t cried so much the night before, she knew she would have already started crying in frustration.

"It’s just your hormones glitching," she told herself even as she wiped away the tear that almost fell, doing her best to convince herself that she would figure out a way to fix things with Dante.

Since whatever money she had asked for was the last thing she wanted. His affection was the most important thing—something she had clearly taken for granted.

When he returns at night, maybe I’ll cook a meal for him! I’ll explain to him that I don’t want the money anymore! She decided even as she headed upstairs, dreading the exercises she had to do.

Her third pregnancy month was approaching, and everything was going smoothly—so much so that she couldn’t help but wonder why other women complained so much at the beginning.