Chapter 75: Born out of love
A few weeks passed faster than Dora expected it to. Days blended into each other in a calm, almost routine way that felt strange compared to everything she had gone through earlier.
Tests were quietly done with no fuss—blood work, simple scans, and routine checks that Dante insisted on but didn’t personally attend. What surprised her the most was that none of these procedures came with the restrictions she had feared.
Her movements were not limited. No one tried to confine her to the house. If anything, she was encouraged to move around, to get fresh air, to continue her life normally.
The only thing that changed was her security. It doubled. She now had two guards with her at almost all times, men who acted like shadows and barely spoke unless spoken to. She thought it would bother her, but after the chaos of the past weeks, their presence actually made her feel safer. They were alert in a way she wasn’t used to, scanning rooms, doorways, and people without needing to be told.
Even more surprising was the sudden kindness her family—especially her stepmother and father—seemed to bestow on her in amounts that would have felt excessive even on a good day. It was strange enough that Dora sometimes caught herself watching them closely, wondering if something was wrong with them rather than assuming they were trying to be better people.
Where they had previously been cold or dismissive, unable to hide their lack of interest in her well-being, she now seemed to receive what could only be described as constant attention. Someone always asked how she was feeling. Someone always offered her food or asked if she needed a ride. Her father even checked in on her personally, which was something he hadn’t done in years unless he needed something from her.
"This is good! We’ve been through so much! We all need to stick together!" Elisa said one morning as she stood with her walking stick. Her legs were still unable to fully support her unless they had little pressure on them. She had good days and bad days, and even on the good ones, she moved slowly and carefully.
Getting used to the prosthetic for her toes had been even more painful for her. Dora had watched Elisa struggle to walk without letting frustration show on her face. She kept everything neutral, as if refusing to let pain be the center of attention. She learned to get up on her own, move around, and participate in conversations as if nothing was wrong even when Dora could tell her legs were bothering her.
Dora’s belly was still super flat, something she was very thankful for considering the fact that Elder Bellini had hinted more than enough for her to know that he wanted a grandchild quickly. She was glad there was nothing visible yet; she didn’t want the extra pressure or expectations.
Other than that, the peace Dora felt was almost surreal, enough to make her almost forget the turbulent weeks filled with blood and gore where her family had been hacked apart into pieces. Sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night remembering the horror of it but during the day, with the sun out, the house calm, and everyone acting normal, the memories felt far away—like something she had seen in a movie instead of lived through.
It was enough to even make her forget that Tiberio existed in their lives, especially since none of her family members dared to leave their bodyguards behind, not even to use the toilet. Everyone acted paranoid, and rightly so. It made Tiberio feel like a threat from another lifetime, not the kind of danger she had to think about today.
Dora was free to head out and shop, getting anything she wanted on Dante’s cards with ease. She went to stores she had never stepped foot in before. She bought things she didn’t necessarily need but enjoyed having. Dressing up nicely made her feel more in control of herself again. Her acting lessons continued as well—something she took seriously after realizing how much money she could make from acting once she got good roles. Even if her pregnancy would prevent her from getting jobs later, she wanted to learn what she could now.
All was well and nothing could be better as she lay down on the beach in a secluded VIP corner, sunbathing with sunglasses on her face. The area was restricted and quiet, with soft music playing in the background and a staff member walking by occasionally to offer drinks. She felt relaxed in a way she had not felt in months, smiling softly to herself at the simple comfort of warm sun and soft sand.
She knew only important and verified people were allowed in this part of the beach, which meant she had nothing to worry about. She stretched her legs out, adjusted her towel, and closed her eyes. Everything felt perfect.
Not until she heard a familiar voice that sent shivers down her spine.
"Miss Dora! Fancy meeting you here," a low feminine voice said.
Dora looked up immediately, her expression shifting from calm to annoyed. She frowned as soon as she recognized the person approaching her.
Standing in front of her was Namira Bellini, wearing a fitted two-piece swimsuit that looked like it had been chosen specifically to highlight her figure. It suited her well. Her hair was styled neatly, her earrings small but expensive, and her nails painted a clean, sharp color.
She still looked like the epitome of elegance even on a beach, even as she ordered her guards to set her beach chair close to Dora’s. They did so quickly, without hesitation, and Namira sat down after rubbing lotion on her arms and legs with deliberate care.
"You look nice! You’re practically glossy!" she told Dora, voice light.
Dora nodded, turned back to the sky, and responded in a clearly unenthusiastic tone, "Likewise."
A small smile stayed on her face, but in her mind she cursed the woman.
’There is no way you didn’t have somewhere else you would rather be!’ she thought. Namira had not simply been passing by. Dora knew it as surely as she knew her own name.
Namira didn’t hesitate to continue speaking.
"I figured we were due for another talk!" she said. Her voice became more serious as she spoke.
"I’ll speak and you’ll listen."
Dora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was always how Namira approached their conversations, with authority and control. Dora nodded anyway, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Namira began immediately.
"My two sons, Shawn and Garuni, are going to inherit the company as CEOs. My brothers are aiming for their children to take over as well, and they’re aware of where I stand."
Dora had no idea what that had to do with her. She glanced at Namira, who was staring at her from behind her dark sunglasses.
"I’m here to make sure that you’re aware that getting pregnant with Dante’s spawn is a no-no," she said. She didn’t hide the anger in her voice. Or the disgust.
"Dante had always been a gentle boy, but after his parents’ deaths he turned into this ruthless man none of us recognize. You haven’t lived with him long enough to know."
Dora nodded only because she wanted Namira to continue and finish quickly. She didn’t believe her.
"...He was almost 18 when it happened, and some people are convinced he might have been behind it considering the fact that he was adopted and his mother was pregnant and a few weeks to term!"
Dora’s mouth fell open.
Namira removed her glasses slowly, revealing a smug, satisfied expression.
That information had never shown up online. Nothing ever mentioned Dante being adopted.
"What? There is no way—" Dora began.
Namira interrupted with a firm shake of her head. "Our family is powerful. Do you think we cannot erase digital footprints to make sure no trace of it exists?"
Dora couldn’t argue. With enough money, anything was possible.
Still, she didn’t believe Dante killed his parents. The man she had gotten to know was cold, yes. Reserved, yes. Hard to read, definitely. But his actions were never cruel. He protected her, provided for her, and never showed the kind of behavior that would align with murdering his own family.
If anything, Namira herself seemed more likely to have motives.
Dora’s gaze shifted into something more neutral. Then she said, "If you can fight for the CEO rights of the company with your brothers, why can’t you fight Dante’s children too?"
She didn’t add the obvious—that by the time Dante’s child grew old enough to challenge anything, Namira would be elderly or gone.
Namira didn’t answer directly.
Instead, she asked, "Why should I wait for a weed to grow before uprooting it? Moreover, it’s always better to remove complications in the present."
There was no mistaking the threat in her voice.
Then she leaned back and said calmly, "I checked you out too, and guess what I found out."
Dora’s heartbeat spiked instantly.
She froze.
She knew exactly what Namira meant.
Tiberio.
Nothing about him was supposed to be known.
Not by anyone since their marriage was supposed to be one born out of love.
