Chapter 152: Dinner at Bellini Mansion (Part – 1)

Two months passed quickly.

Mila buried herself in work during those days, using exhaustion as a distraction from the pain constantly clawing at her heart.

A month ago, she had registered her marriage with Max.

She had waited afterward, secretly hoping Dominic would appear before her in rage, pull her away, and prove that he was still alive.

But he never came.

The news continued spreading everywhere: the infamous gangster known as ’the devil’ was dead. His gang had collapsed. His men were either killed, arrested, or missing.

Every headline, every rumor, every whisper confirmed Dominic’s death. And with each passing day, the fragile hope inside Mila dimmed little by little.

Yet she still refused to accept it completely.

A stubborn part of her heart continued believing that Dominic would return someday. But pretending to be fine was becoming harder and harder.

The moment her shift ended that evening, she hurried back to her office and rushed straight into the bathroom before collapsing beside the sink and throwing up violently.

Her stomach twisted painfully. Her chest burned. And her heart ached so badly that she felt she could barely breathe.

When she was finally done, she leaned weakly against the cold wall. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

"I’m tired, Dominic..." she whispered brokenly.

Her trembling hand moved unconsciously to her small baby bump. "When are you coming back?"

The loneliness was slowly consuming her.

Every morning she woke up hoping for a message, a call, some sign that he was alive. Every night she fell asleep disappointed.

She missed him desperately. His voice. His touch. His possessiveness. The way he used to look at her as if she were the only thing that mattered in his world.

Sometimes she even imagined hearing his footsteps behind her or his deep voice calling her name.

But every single time, reality crushed her mercilessly.

What frightened her most was not only the possibility that Dominic might truly be dead. It was the terrifying thought that maybe he was alive somewhere and had chosen not to come back to her.

That fear slowly tore her apart from inside.

Her phone suddenly rang on the floor.

Only then did she realize she had dropped it while rushing inside. She bent down slowly, picked it up, and answered weakly.

"Hello?"

Her breathing was uneven.

"Mila, are you okay?" Max’s worried voice immediately came through the speaker.

Mila quickly wiped her tears away.

"I’m fine," she lied softly. "Just morning sickness."

"I’m coming right now," he said instantly. "I’ll be there soon."

"Don’t bother," she muttered tiredly. "I can go home myself."

"I’m already on my way, Mila. Wait for me."

Beep.

The call disconnected.

Mila let out a long sigh.

Over the past two months, Max had been nothing but kind to her. He took care of her attentively, accompanied her to every prenatal appointment, reminded her to eat and rest, and treated her gently like a devoted husband.

Most importantly, he had respected every boundary she had set between them. He had kept every promise.

Mila truly felt grateful for that. Without him supporting her during this period, she felt she would have completely collapsed both mentally and physically.

Slowly, she pushed herself upright, washed her face and hands, then stepped out of the bathroom.

Some time later, Max arrived.

"How are you now?" he asked anxiously the moment he entered. His worried gaze scanned her pale face carefully. "Any discomfort?"

"It’s just morning sickness, Max," Mila replied weakly. "You are overreacting."

"How can I not worry?" he muttered. "You barely ate this morning, and now you are throwing up again."

He stepped closer and gently lifted her chin. "And look at you," he said softly. "You are pale."

His brows knitted tightly together. "Come on. Let’s go talk to the gynecologist again."

Mila stiffened the moment his fingers touched her. She turned her face aside instinctively, avoiding his touch.

"I already spoke to her," she replied quietly.

Max’s hand froze midair. A shadow of disappointment crossed his eyes briefly, but he quickly hid it.

"What did she say?" he asked calmly.

"She said it’s normal. Morning sickness usually improves during the second trimester."

Only then did Max relax slightly.

Mila quietly observed him.

His concern looked completely genuine. There was no calculation in his eyes. No pretension.

Sometimes it almost felt as though the child growing inside her truly belonged to him. That realization hurt her deeply.

The real father of her baby had disappeared without a trace. Meanwhile, Max was fulfilling every responsibility Dominic should have been fulfilling.

A painful ache spread through her chest again.

’Why, Dominic?’ she cried silently inside her heart. ’You promised you would never leave me.’

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. ’You lied to me...’

"Dad called me this afternoon," Max suddenly said, changing the subject. "He returned from his business trip."

Mila looked at him questioningly.

"He invited us to the family dinner tonight," he said, interrupting her thoughts.

Mila hesitated for a moment. After marrying him, she had learned about the strained relationship between Max and his father. She also knew Luke’s wife and his two sons disliked them.

"Are you sure you want to go there?" she asked skeptically.

Max lowered his gaze. He had his disagreements with his father, but he also couldn’t ignore the fact that he was able to marry Mila because of that man.

"He is my father, our elder," he replied quietly. "No matter how much I dislike him, we can’t change it. And this is the first dinner after our marriage. We should go."

"Fine," Mila agreed.

Max smiled a little. "Let’s go then."

Together, they came out of the hospital.

Max opened the door for her, and Mila settled in the passenger seat.

He walked around the car and got behind the wheel. The car started running soon.

Max glanced at her.

Mila was quiet, looking outside in a daze.

"You have been busy these days," he started, trying to lighten her mood. "How about we go shopping?"

Mila looked down at her fingers on her lap. "I don’t need anything."

His face fell. Ever since they had returned from Italy, Mila had grown silent, distant, and cold. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t make her smile.

It pained him.

He wanted to see the daring, confident, and beaming Mila.

"Actually, my father wants to organize a party to officially announce our marriage."

Mila looked at him. Her brows furrowed slightly.

Seeing her expression, Max hurried to explain. "If you are uncomfortable with it, I’ll refuse him," he said immediately. "We don’t need any public event."

Mila’s expression turned thoughtful. Then slowly, she shook her head.

"He is your father. And he is a respected businessman. It’s natural that he wants to introduce his daughter-in-law publicly."

"He is our elder," she reminded him of his words. "We should respect his decision."

Max stared at her in surprise, clearly not expecting her agreement. Then joy slowly spread across his face.

"Really?" he exclaimed. "You are okay with it?"

Mila nodded faintly.

"Okay..." Max smiled warmly. "Then I’ll tell him to arrange everything."

Mila returned a weak smile. But deep inside, another thought occupied her mind entirely.

When she registered her marriage with Max, Dominic never appeared. Maybe he simply hadn’t heard about it.

But this time was different.

Luke Bellini’s party would be grand. Influential people from all over the city would attend. The news would spread everywhere.

There was no way Dominic wouldn’t hear about it. And once he did, he would come to find her.

Mila’s fingers slowly tightened around the edge of the table. A flicker of determination appeared in her tear-filled eyes.

’You love me too much to stay hidden forever, Dominic,’ she thought painfully. ’If you are alive, you will come for me.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived at the Bellini family mansion just as evening settled over the city.

The enormous building stood illuminated under the bright lights, looking more like a palace than a home. Expensive cars lined the driveway.

Guards stood near the entrance. The entire place radiated wealth, power, and superiority.

Mila stepped out of the car quietly, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach.

Max glanced at her. "You okay?"

She nodded faintly. But the moment they entered the mansion, she realized this dinner would not be peaceful.

The hall was massive, furnished with luxurious décor, antique showpieces, and elegant oil paintings hanging across the walls.

A woman in a dark blue gown was seated on the sofa, sipping wine gracefully. Her sharp eyes lifted toward them the moment they walked in.

Beside her sat two men.

The older one had a cold face and arrogant posture. His expensive suit and mocking smirk made him look exactly like the type who enjoyed looking down on others.

The younger one threw a disdainful look at them, not even hiding his resentment toward them.

Max’s expression hardened instantly.

Mila immediately understood. These were Luke Bellini’s legitimate family.

"Finally," the older son drawled. "The stray dog decided to come home."

Mila frowned.

Max’s jaw clenched tightly. "Watch your mouth, Matteo."

Matteo Bellini only smirked wider.

The younger man chuckled softly. "Why? Did the truth hurt you, Max?"

The woman finally spoke, her tone elegant yet icy. "You should learn some manners before entering this house."

Max’s face darkened. "I didn’t come here to fight."

"Then why did you come?" Matteo sneered. "To claim your share of the inheritance?"