CHAPTER 241: CHAPTER 241 MADNESS

"I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU TWO—LEAVE ME ALONE!" Bella snapped, her voice trembling as she turned away from Jessica and Stella. Her chest heaved, and her fists clenched at her sides. Divorce? Replace her with Stella? Over her dead body.

She stormed off, her steps quick and unsteady, trying to shake off the suffocating words they’d thrown at her. Her heart felt heavy, her throat tight. She didn’t even notice where she was walking until a gentle voice broke through the noise in her head.

"Are you okay, Bella?"

She blinked and looked up.

Giovanni.

He stood there in a perfectly cut blue suit, his tall frame commanding yet his face relaxed, carrying that disarming gentleness she remembered. His dark hair was slicked neatly back, his sharp features softened by the faintest smile tugging at his lips.

"Gio," Bella breathed, a small smile slipping onto her face before she could stop herself.

His brows lifted in surprise. "You remember me?" His tone carried genuine wonder, like he hadn’t expected her to recall him at all.

Bella tilted her head, her honey-brown eyes steady. "Hmm... I don’t easily forget anyone," she said honestly. It was true. Her mind clung to people, to moments, even the smallest details. Sometimes she wished it wouldn’t.

Giovanni’s lips curved, amused. "Then I might say your mind is sharper than most. Even I can’t remember faces from years ago if I’ve only met them once." He chuckled, the sound smooth, almost playful.

Bella shrugged lightly. "Attachment issues," she admitted softly. "They make me remember too much."

"Is that so?" His eyes glinted, intrigued. "Then I should be flattered."

She gave a polite little smile. "Thank you."

"Don’t thank me," Giovanni chuckled again, the kind of laugh that made people lean closer without realizing. "I should be thanking you. Not many people remember me once I leave the room."

Bella lowered her gaze for a moment. He seemed too perfect, too kind. She had already learned not to trust appearances in this world. Gentleness could be a mask. A handsome face could hide an ugly heart. Jessica was proof enough—her sugary words always hid knives.

Giovanni’s voice pulled her back. "So... how is your life?" he asked, his tone careful, probing yet not invasive.

Bella hesitated. She wasn’t sure what answer he wanted, so she gave him the one closest to the truth. "Good. Maybe."

That amused chuckle again. "Good and maybe?" He leaned slightly closer, his expression warm but his eyes sharper than his smile. "That’s a very delicate answer, Bella. Almost like you’re holding something back."

Bella tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her lips twitching nervously. "Good... and maybe. It depends on the day, I guess."

Giovanni smiled, the kind of smile that looked polished yet not overdone, as though he had mastered the art of making people feel comfortable. "Fair enough. Life has its seasons. Some days feel like summer, others like winter, hm?"

Bella blinked at him, caught off guard by the metaphor. "I suppose so," she admitted softly.

Meanwhile, Alan stood at the far side of the hall, his broad frame straightened in his tailored black suit. The crystal glass of red wine swirled lazily in his hand, catching light from the chandeliers above. His gaze, however, was fixed—unwavering, intense—on one person across the glittering crowd.

Bella.

For a moment, Alan forgot the noise of the party, the clinking glasses, the laughter of socialites, even the faint notes of the string quartet. All he saw was her.

Is this really the same girl he had first met, back when Leo had dragged her to that bar? Back then she had seemed fragile, like a little bird uncertain of her wings, a child forced into a world that didn’t suit her. But tonight... tonight she looked like a woman. A silver dress clung softly to her form, glittering every time she moved, her long hair flowing like silk, her lips painted with a natural hue that made them look unbearably kissable.

Her skin glowed under the lights, supple and warm, and those honey-brown eyes... those eyes could trap a man like a cage. And he was trapped—completely.

Alan’s jaw tightened as he saw Giovanni leaning close, speaking to her with that practiced gentleness. His stomach churned. What the hell did Gio think he was doing, talking to Bella like that?

Alan’s grip on his glass tightened. He had tried—God, he had tried—to bury this madness in his heart. But after learning the truth... that Bella was the angel who had saved him during the accident, that the blurry figure he kept replaying in his half-conscious memories was her... everything had shifted. The woman standing there wasn’t just his friend’s wife anymore. She was his savior. His light. The one who had held his broken body together when he was nothing but bleeding wreckage.

And yet—

She was untouchable.

His friend’s wife.

His sister-in-law.

Leo’s woman.

She was out of reach. Forbidden.

But his damn heart didn’t care. Every day since he woke up, she haunted him. He imagined her arms around him, her lips on his, her soft voice whispering his name, her small hand pulling him away from this suffocating world. He dreamt of her almost every night, and each time, when he woke up, he felt emptier than before.

"Alan!?"

A sharp, sweet voice cut into his thoughts. He blinked, snapping his gaze away from Bella to find Alexa standing beside him, dressed in crimson silk, her curls shining under the light. She had been following his stare, and when she realized where it was fixed, her lips curved into a mocking smile.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, voice dripping with poison. "Oh... maybe you’re wondering why Bella is talking with Gio? Did you forget? Giovanni is Leo’s rival. And look at her—chatting with him so freely. She’s really something, isn’t she? A little slut, daring to smile with leo enemy. She has guts."

Alan’s blood boiled. He didn’t even realize how hard he was gripping the wine glass until his knuckles turned white.

"Shut up, Alexa." His voice was low, cold, sharper than a blade.

Alexa blinked, stunned, then narrowed her eyes. But before she could spit back another word, Alan was already moving, striding across the polished floor. His broad shoulders cut through the crowd as he made his way toward Bella and Giovanni, his mind a storm of anger and something far more dangerous.

Across the hall, Alexa’s furious gaze followed him. Her nails dug into her glass as she bit her lip, a mix of jealousy and rage twisting inside her. And then—like a snake sensing another snake—her eyes met Stella’s from across the room.

Stella was standing with a group of women, sipping champagne with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. When she noticed Alan’s gaze fixed on Bella, a glint of recognition passed through her. Their eyes met, and slowly, deliberately, Stella’s lips curved into a smile.

Alexa’s lips mirrored hers.

Silent understanding passed between them.

Bella had just become their perfect target.