Chapter 65: Do not Drink Anything
It didn’t take long before they arrived at the estate, the long familiar drive ending before Dora could even fully prepare herself. She was relieved to see that Dante was actually going in with her and did not just intend to turn back around after dropping her off. T
Together, they got down and began heading inside the magnificent estate—an imposing structure that looked every bit as grand as she remembered. Despite having seen it before, Dora couldn’t help but marvel all over again at the sheer size and beauty of the place.
She was still admiring the details when she saw Elder Bellini himself coming down the staircase with a bright smile on his face. Her hand was looped lightly through Dante’s arm, but the moment she spotted the old man, she instinctively let go and hurried forward. She reached out to offer her arm to him, eager to help him down the remaining steps—even though, with his cane, he clearly didn’t need the assistance.
"I’m old, but I’m not that old!" he told her with a light chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Dora only smiled wider, refusing to withdraw her arm. "Still, it’s always good to have a little support," she said softly as she helped him down.
From behind them, Dante had a faint, barely noticeable smile tugging at his lips—an amused, fleeting expression that made Dora’s heart lift slightly. To any outsider, she thought, they must have looked like the perfect family. And perhaps they would have been... if she weren’t just a surrogate, standing in the role of something she could never fully be.
"You were supposed to come earlier," Elder Bellini said warmly once they reached the bottom. "I heard you were a bit under the weather!"
Dora instantly nodded her head, feeling Dante’s presence beside her as he led the way toward the study area. She followed alongside the old man, still lightly holding his arm. "Yes," she replied smoothly. "It wasn’t too serious." She knew well enough that this was the story Dante had told him—that she had been ill, and that was why she hadn’t left the house for weeks.
Slowly, they walked until Dante gestured for the older man to take a seat on one of the sofas. Dora was just withdrawing her arm when her mouth fell open at the words that came out of the old man’s mouth.
"Oh! Who knows... maybe you’re already with child!" Elder Bellini said, wiggling his brows in an exaggerated manner that caught her completely off guard.
Dora gasped, a blush rising to her cheeks before she burst into laughter. The sheer absurdity of it, combined with the playful look on his face, was enough to make her momentarily forget all formality.
Elder Bellini’s expression, though outwardly serious, carried a teasing edge that Dora had learned to recognize. Normally, his tone alone betrayed his humor—but this time, he went as far as to make a funny face, something that made Dora grin even more as she shook her head.
"I—I don’t think it’ll happen that fast!" she stammered, still laughing as she backed away toward Dante, trying to cool the heat that had rushed to her face.
The old man sighed dramatically, though there was a hint of real wistfulness beneath it. "Who knows? Sometimes it happens even faster. Besides," he said, his voice growing more thoughtful, "you can have more than a dozen. There’ll be enough room for them all here."
Dora couldn’t help it—she laughed again, nodding in amusement. "Of course," she said with a grin. "A dozen sounds like a perfect number."
Her humor pleased the older man, who nodded approvingly. Dante, meanwhile, leaned slightly closer to her, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear.
"I’d like to speak alone with him," he murmured.
Dora gave a small nod in understanding and stood up gracefully. Before leaving, she leaned down to place a light kiss on Elder Bellini’s cheek, an affectionate gesture that made the old man’s eyes soften, even though his expression remained as stern as ever.
She was just about to turn to leave when Dante caught her wrist gently and pulled her a little closer. He bent toward her, pressing a light kiss to her cheek as well, his lips barely brushing her skin.
"Do not drink anything," he whispered so seriously that the tone alone made her freeze for a moment. It wasn’t a request—it sounded like a warning.
Elder Bellini chuckled from his seat, clearly amused. "Jealous much?" he teased, implying that Dante only wanted his own kiss after seeing Dora give one first.
Dora, however, was still trying to make sense of Dante’s words. The sharpness in his tone replayed in her mind as she nodded mutely and headed for the door. Once outside, she murmured under her breath, "That sounded like a serious warning..."
Her heart was still racing slightly as she made her way up the grand staircase. She decided to take the stairs instead of the escalator, needing a moment to gather her thoughts. The estate felt quiet—eerily so. Unlike her last visit, the only people she saw were uniformed servants moving briskly through the halls and a few bodyguards stationed strategically, each one carrying what looked like heavy-grade weapons.
"Security is clearly a big deal here," she muttered to herself, comforted by the thought as she reached the upper landing. She found a cozy sitting room—a large one, complete with a big flat screen—and decided to wait there while Dante and Elder Bellini finished their talk.
About fifteen minutes later, she had just settled comfortably into the sofa when the door opened. Namira Bellini, Dante’s aunt, swept into the room. Dora immediately recognized her. She was most likely in her fifties but looked much younger—her features refined, her posture sharp. She wore a black skirt suit paired with a string of gleaming pearls that were unmistakably real.
She looked elegant but breathless like she ran there.
"Good afternoon," Dora greeted politely, rising slightly from her seat. "Dante’s with the old man right now."
Namira didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she frowned faintly, then reached for the small silver bell by the door and gave it a sharp tug before walking closer.
"No," she said evenly, her voice carrying the kind of practiced calm that often preceded something unpleasant. "I wanted to speak to you." She gestured to the space beside Dora and sat down smoothly. "We can have coffee while we talk."
Dora’s stomach tightened. Though the woman hadn’t yet said anything truly alarming, an instinctive unease stirred in her chest. Something about her tone, her expression—it all felt like a warning sign.
"You can just tell me now," Dora replied, keeping her voice polite but firm. "Dante will arrive soon, and then we’ll have to leave." She left out the fact that Dante would only be heading to his company later in the day and that she was expected to remain here much longer.
Namira studied her quietly for a few seconds before she finally spoke, her gaze cool and measured. "As a new wife," she began, "I’m sure you and Dante aren’t in any rush to have children. It would be better for you both to spend some time figuring out whether or not you’re truly compatible."
Dora blinked at her, momentarily thrown off. The words sounded polite enough, but the underlying message was sharp—biting, even. She could tell immediately that this was only the beginning.
Namira continued without pause, her voice smooth but laced with something unmistakably condescending. "Moreover, the last thing you need is to ruin your figure so early in your acting career."
Dora kept her smile in place, nodding as though she agreed, even though her mind was spinning. There was no point in arguing—not with a woman like this.
She was just about to respond when a faint sound made both women turn their heads. The doors opened again, and a maid entered, pushing a small cart with a tea set arranged neatly on top.
