All Chapters of Trained Not To Love You: Chapter 121 - Chapter 128

Ronan"As you know, Ms. Mussolini and I were dating, and we were planning on settling down," I said, my voice steady despite the tension I felt rising in the room.General Yousef, however, wasn’t going to let it slide. "When you say 'were,' does that mean it is no longer so?" he asked, his sharp tone cutting through the air.I took a breath, forcing myself to stay composed. "What does my personal life have to do with this meeting, please?" I responded, choosing my words carefully. I didn’t want to give too much away, and it was clear that answering his question directly could lead us down a path I wasn’t willing to tread.The room fell silent. The weight of unspoken questions lingered between us. I could sense the shift in the air, a quiet contemplation settling over the group as they exchanged glances. The General and his officers then began speaking in their native tongue. They probably assumed Joseph and I wouldn’t understand, but part of our military training required us to learn

Ronan“We were able to find this footage from six years ago,” General Yousef began, his voice heavy with the weight of what was to come. “A supermarket owner brought it to us a few weeks ago. He said he was going through his security footage archive, looking for the image of a thief who had robbed his store, when he stumbled upon this. There’s no audio, but the video is clear.”The General nodded to the Colonel, who moved to play the video on the screen. As the footage began, my breath caught in my throat. The image on the screen hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst. There, dressed like a Kavistani soldier, holding a gun and forcing a man into a van, was someone I never expected to see.I couldn’t breathe. My mind refused to accept what my eyes were seeing. His face was unmistakable. It was him—there was no doubt. But how could this be possible? It was like the ground had been ripped out from under me. I looked over at Joseph, and his face

CamilaStaying at the Morosov estate was like living on the edge of a knife, a constant tension that weighed on my chest every second of the day.Every step I took felt wrong, as if any small misstep would shatter the fragile peace.The new rules General Sergey enforced at breakfast the day before haunted me—Madam Melania’s icy glare, the way her lips thinned in displeasure. I knew, deep down, she would never forgive what had happened.Even though General Sergey insisted I should join them for meals, telling me not to worry, I couldn't bring myself to do it.The idea of sitting across from Madam Melania, feeling her cold eyes on me, was unbearable.So, for every meal after breakfast yesterday, my mother took Katya to the dining room, I found a way to slip away, to make myself disappear. It was safer that way. I didn’t want to upset Madam Melania any more than I already had by just existing, and the staff—once indifferent—had grown sharp and hostile since the General had imposed his n

CamilaMadam Melania’s face turned even colder as she realized she was losing control. The tension between her and General Sergey seemed to tighten like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment.“Sergey,” she repeated, her voice sharp and unyielding. “I am coming with you. Whatever she has to say to you, she can say to me as well.” Her words were laced with entitlement as if she couldn’t fathom being left out of any conversation under her own roof. Her authority, her dominance, was being questioned, and she would not tolerate it.General Sergey turned slowly to face her, his expression hard and unforgiving. “Whatever she has to say to me is none of your business, Melania,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I warned you about the Semenovs, didn’t I? And yet, you went ahead and sent Camila to deliver pastries!” His voice, though steady, brimmed with anger, the kind that comes when a person’s patience has been tested one too many times.He took a step closer to her, his eyes piercing