Mag-log inDesperation forces Elena to work as a waitress in a notorious underground nightclub to cover her son's mounting medical bills. Her mundane yet precarious life takes a dangerous turn one night when several drunk patrons corner her. Before things spiral out of control, a shadowy figure intervenes — her ex-boyfriend, now a powerful and feared mafia boss, Damien Moretti. Years ago, their love was a whirlwind of passion and chaos, abruptly severed by betrayal and secrets. Now standing before her in a tailored suit with an air of cold authority, Damien isn’t the man she once knew — he’s darker, more ruthless, and unapologetically possessive. Now, he’s no longer a charming rebel but a man who bends the world to his will. His terms are chilling yet inescapable: “You belong to me. Always have. Always will. And I’ll make you remember that.” Damien offers a deal Elena can’t easily refuse — become his mistress, and he’ll wipe out all her debts. Despite her defiant spirit, Elena is torn between pride and a mother’s fierce love. Elena faces an impossible choice while hiding a secret: Draco, her five-year-old son, is Damien's child. Damien's obsession with control intensifies as he becomes increasingly possessive of Elena, keeping her under constant watch. While others label his love psychopathic, She struggles to deny the magnetic pull he still has over her. His dangerous lifestyle threatens to drag her back into a world of blood and shadows, but he’s the only one who can save her son. As their twisted relationship reignites, Damien's enemies close in, putting both Elena and Draco at risk. When Damien uncovers the truth about Draco, his possessiveness reaches a fever pitch — no one will touch what belongs to him, not even fate!
view more三年前、|紗那《さな》は最も愛する人と結婚した。
表向きは家同士の政略結婚。少なくとも彼女自身は、それが愛による結婚だと信じていた。家の利益のためではなく、自分は愛されているのだと。
|白府裕司《しらふゆうじ》。
彼は結婚式で、彼女に永遠の幸福を約束した。生涯を共にすると誓った。
あのときの誓いの言葉は、あまりにも誠実で、愛に満ちていた。だからこそ三年後、裕司が別の女性とホテルにいると知った今でも、紗那はあの日彼が口にした一言一句を思い出してしまう。
ホテルの柔らかな絨毯の上を歩きながら、紗那の心もまた足元と同じようにふわふわと沈み、どこにも着地できずにいた。
裕司が浮気をしている兆しは、今日に限ったことではない。それでも、こうして現実として突きつけられたのは、今日が初めてだった。見知らぬ相手から送られてきた写真――裕司のベッドでの姿を目にした、その瞬間から。
写真の中で、裕司は優しく微笑んでいた。まるで春風のような穏やかな笑み。それが、紗那には吐き気を催すほどに嫌悪感を抱かせた。
これまでずっと、紗那は裕司のことを、無口で感情を表に出さない、どこか冷たい人間だと思っていた。
結婚式でもあまり笑わず、ただ誓いの言葉を読むときだけ、目元を潤ませ、声をわずかに震わせていた。
あのとき、彼も感動しているのだと、紗那は信じていた。
だが今になって思う。
あの誓いは、本当に自分に向けられたものだったのだろうか。 紗那の中で、その確信が崩れていく。「あなたの夫、本当にあなたのことを想っていたと思う?」
今朝、突然そんなメールが届いた。
画像が表示された瞬間、紗那は眠りから叩き起こされたかのように目を見開いた。写真は何枚もあった。場所も服装も違う。つまり、異なる時期に撮られたものだ。
ただ一つ共通しているのは、そこに映っている女性が常に同じ人物であること。そして、裕司が彼女に向ける視線も、笑みも、紗那が一度も向けられたことのないものだった。
その女性の顔に、紗那は見覚えがあった。
|白府千織《しらふちおり》――裕司の名目上の妹。白府家の養女であり、血の繋がりはない。祖父の旧友が亡くなり、その遺された子どもを不憫に思って引き取った――そんな話を聞いたことがある。
千織が白府家に来たのはすでに小学生の頃だったため、養女であることは誰もが知っている「公然の秘密」だった。
裕司と千織の関係についても、紗那は以前からいくつかの噂を耳にしたことがある。
それらはすべて、ただの噂だと笑い飛ばしていた。
裕司が結婚してから、千織は海外へ留学に出された。だから紗那が彼女と顔を合わせる機会はほとんどなかった。
まさか三年後、こんな形で再び彼女を見ることになるとは思いもしなかった。写真の中の千織は、あまりにも明るく、無邪気に笑っていた。「いつまで裕司の妻の座に居座るつもり?あなたは所詮、よそ者でしょう?」
メールには、そんな言葉も添えられていた。
あまりにも多すぎる情報に、紗那の頭は追いつかなかった。
ただ彼女は、メールに記されていた場所へと、ほとんど反射的に駆けつけた。ドアを叩くその直前、紗那は心の底から祈っていた。
どうか、すべてが嘘であってほしいと。だが、扉を開けたのは裕司だった。
全身の血が逆流するような感覚に襲われる。心臓が締め付けられるほど苦しくなる。
目の前に立つのは、上半身裸の夫。紗那は信じられない思いで彼を見つめた。
一方で裕司は、彼女の姿を見てもただ眉をひそめただけ。驚きも動揺もない。まるで最初からこうなることを予想していたかのようだった。
「……紗那お姉さん?」
室内から、もう一つの声が響く。
ほどなくして、バスルームから現れたのは、バスタオル一枚を体に巻いた千織だった。
まだ水滴の残る髪。
裕司は紗那よりも先に千織を気遣い、そばにあったタオルを手に取ると、彼女の髪を拭こうとする。「風邪ひくぞ。ちゃんと拭いてから出てこい」
「だって、紗那お姉さんか気になったんだもん。もしそうなら、来るの早いね。メール送ったばかりなのに」
甘えるように千織が言う。
裕司は小さく笑った。
「まったく……」
その光景を前にして、紗那は言葉を失う。
目の前にいるのは、三年間共に暮らしてきた夫のはずなのに、今の自分は、まるで他人の家庭に踏み込んだ侵入者のようだった。「裕司……どういうこと……っ」
涙がこぼれ落ちる。
それを見た裕司は、ただわずかに眉をしかめただけだった。そこにあったのは、苛立ちにも似た嫌悪だった。Chaos did not announce itself politely.It tore through the safe house like a living thing—screams of warning, boots pounding against floors, the sharp metallic click of weapons being loaded. Orders overlapped. Radios crackled. The illusion of control fractured under the weight of reality.Damien Moretti stood at the center of it.He moved like a man born for this kind of storm—calm, precise, lethal. His voice cut through the noise with brutal authority.“South corridor, lock it down. Nobody fires unless they have a clear shot. I want eyes on every exit—now.”Men snapped into motion without hesitation.But Elena barely heard him.The first gunshot rang out again—closer this time—and something inside her snapped clean in two.Her mind did not weigh options.It did not calculate odds.It went to one place only.Draco.“Mama—!”She didn’t know if she imagined the sound of his voice or if it was memory clawing its way into panic. Either way, her body was already moving.“Elena—wait!”Nico
For a moment, the world slowed. Not stopped—never stopped—but softened, like everything sharp had been wrapped in cotton.Above them, the stars burned quietly, distant and indifferent. Insects hummed in the brush beyond the porch, their rhythm steady and ancient. The faint scent of pine drifted through the air, mingling with smoke and damp earth, grounding Elena in the present when her thoughts threatened to run too far ahead.Nico flicked the cigarette away into the gravel, watching the ember arc briefly through the dark before dying. He crushed it under his shoe with a deliberate twist, like he was extinguishing more than just nicotine.He turned slightly toward her. Not fully. Not intrusively. Just enough that the shift mattered. His voice, when he spoke, was lower now—stripped of humor, stripped of the teasing edge he wore like armor.“Whatever happens tomorrow,” he said, “you won’t face it alone. I promise.”The words weren’t dramatic. He didn’t dress them up or hedge them with c
Elena tilted her head back, letting the stars fill her vision.They were sharper out here, away from city lights—cold pinpricks scattered across an endless dark. She used to make wishes on nights like this. Silly, half-hearted things she never expected the universe to answer. Safety. Love. A life that didn’t feel like borrowed time.Her breath fogged faintly as she spoke.“Do you ever wonder what life would be like,” she asked quietly, “if we weren’t in this world?”The question wasn’t sudden. It had been circling inside her all night, pressing against her ribs until it needed air.Beside her, Nico let out a low, almost amused chuckle. He lifted the cigarette back to his lips, took a slow drag, then exhaled deliberately. The smoke unraveled as it rose, thinning and disappearing into the sky like it had never existed at all.“I don’t let myself think about things I can’t have,” he said.Not bitter. Not defensive. Just… practiced.Elena nodded slowly, absorbing that. The words landed he
Night settled over the safe house like a held breath.Not the gentle kind of quiet that came with safety, but the oppressive stillness that followed too many storms survived and too many left waiting. The kind that pressed against the ears until silence itself felt loud.Elena lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.The faint outline of a crack ran diagonally above her—something she hadn’t noticed before tonight. Or maybe she had, and her mind had simply refused to linger on small imperfections when larger ones threatened to tear everything apart.From the next room, Draco’s breathing drifted through the thin wall. Slow. Even. Trusting.It anchored her.She closed her eyes, but the darkness behind them only sharpened her thoughts.Damien.The way his voice had softened without effort when he spoke to Draco. The way his body had angled instinctively between danger and her son, even when there was no immediate threat. The promise he had given so easily—Always—without knowing the weight
The house had fallen into that strange, delicate quiet that followed laughter.A stillness too complete. Too careful.The empty wine glasses sat abandoned on the counter, candlelight flickering low, almost guttering out. Somewhere down the hall, a door clicked softly as the night settled in around
The golden light of late afternoon stretched long and slow across the safe house yard, painting everything in warm hues. The air carried the crisp scent of freshly cut grass, mingled with faint laughter—the kind that felt rare and fragile among them.Nico had just tossed the ball high into the air
The day unfolded lazily, the kind of afternoon that felt borrowed from a life none of them truly belonged to. The safe house, usually thick with tension and whispers of danger, now basked in a rare stillness.Sunlight streamed through the trees, filtering in warm streaks across the porch. The dist
Sunlight filtered through the thick drapes of the safehouse, casting long streaks of gold across the wooden floor. The house sat nestled deep in the countryside, far from the chaos that seemed to follow them like a shadow. For the first time in days, a fragile calm had settled. Draco was curled up
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