Let Me Go, My Mafia Husband by Paga Slayer

Chapter 297 Where She Belongs

"Matteo, handle it urgently," Alessandro demanded, pacing outside the Commissariat de Police as he spoke on the phone with his lawyer friend. "I can't let Hazel stay in jail."

"Give me a moment, Alessandro," Matteo replied calmly. "I'll see what I can arrange in Monaco to get immediate help."

The call ended, and Alessandro exhaled heavily, slipping his phone back into his coat pocket. Impatience gnawed at him as he thought about Hazel. She was six months pregnant, and he had promised Aria that he would ensure her safety at any cost. "Mr. Valentino?" a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Alessandro turned to see a man in a sharp black suit approaching him with an air of authority.

"Good evening," the man began. "I'm Victor Duval. I've been instructed by Lord Alexander to secure his wife's release."

Alessandro was slightly taken aback; he hadn't expected Alexander to send his lawyer to aid Hazel, especially after witnessing his cold indifference toward his wife earlier.

"Mr. Duval," Alessandro greeted, shaking the man's hand firmly, but his gaze remained sharp as he studied Victor. "You have the necessary paperwork?!"

Victor nodded confidently. "Everything is in order. I'll ensure the process is handled as swiftly as possible."

Alessandro gave a curt nod. "Good. Let's get this done. Hazel doesn't belong in there."

two men strode purposefully into the Commissariat de Police, their determined

Gia and Maximo were occupied watching television in

greet him, their faces filled with anticipation. But their excitement waned the moment they noticed Alessandro entering

anxiously, her worry

been released on bail," he assured her. Then, his tone hardened slightly as he added, "But she refused to return home, and I couldn't force her." His sharp

go?" Camille asked, her voice tinged with guilt, her face

parents' home at her

his expression unreadable. He didn't offer an explanation, nor did he acknowledge

heavily on her heart as she reflected on her son's behavior toward his wife. Perhaps it runs in their

as dispensable, and seeking comfort

miserable state before her father, her heart sinking as

his voice sharp with irritation. Hazel had just poured her heart out, explaining how her husband's mistress had framed her with false accusations and sent her to jail. Yet, her father remained unmoved, his expression indifferent. "This is not your home anymore, Hazel," he snapped. "Go back to your husband and do as he says. That is your

bear it anymore," Hazel pleaded, her voice quivering with

her father

all our businesses in exchange for this marriage. If you try to jeopardize this

frozen, her father's cold words piercing through her like ice. She turned to her mother, desperate for even the slightest glimmer of compassion, but her mother refused to meet her gaze. Her expression was as distant and unfeeling as her father's, and