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หน้าหลัก / Romance / Encore with the Devil / Chapter 46 – Broken Trust

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Chapter 46 – Broken Trust

ผู้เขียน: Mercy V.
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2026-02-18 13:14:37

The door clicks shut behind him.

His last words hang in the air like smoke.

*You lost the right to choose, Luna…*

I sit there on the edge of the bed a long time after he’s gone, hands slack in my lap, bandages itching on my palms.

At some point, I realize I’m still wearing the T‑shirt someone changed me into.

It smells faintly like my old detergent from the villa laundry, not the harsh stuff in Buenos Aires.

Full circle.

Back where I started.

With fewer illusions.

I stand on unsteady legs and c
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  • Encore with the Devil   Chapter 59 – Chaos

    Darkness eats the whole room in one bite.The gunshot still echoes in my bones when the screaming starts.Dozens of voices—too many to separate. Someone cries. Someone swears. Someone laughs in the wrong register, high and panicked.The mic in front of me whines with sudden feedback and then dies as someone kills the sound.For a heartbeat, I freeze.Old muscle memory wants me to curl in on myself, protect my head, and wait for someone else to decide what happens next.I don’t.I drop flat.Hands over my neck, curling around the guitar as it clatters to the floor.Another shot splits the dark.Closer this time.A hot sting burns the back of my calf—splinter, not bullet.Then, a hand grabs my forearm.Gloved.Hard.My whole body jolts.“Got you,” a voice hisses in my ear.It’s not Dante.It’s not Luca.It’s accented in that same ugly way as the man on the phone.Marco’s.Adrenaline floods so fast I taste metal.Not again.I twist, yank my arm, nails clawing for skin, for anything.He d

  • Encore with the Devil   Chapter 58 – Bait

    Dante hates this.He doesn’t say it outright.He doesn’t have to.It’s in the way his jaw grinds every time Vittorio mentions “maximum visibility,” in the way his hands curl when Luca talks about sightlines, in the way his eyes linger on me like he’s trying to memorize me in case something goes wrong.We’re in a conference room on the top floor of the hotel above his club. Floor‑to‑ceiling windows look out over the city. The stage is two floors down, a dark rectangle on the security feeds.Luca taps a screen, pointing to red zones.“Snipers here and here,” he says. “Our people. Roof, opposite roofs, corners. There is no clean line from anywhere higher.”“And exits?” Dante asks.“Three,” Luca says. “Main backstage. Side door to a secure corridor with cars waiting. Trapdoor below the stage to the service tunnel if we have to disappear you straight down.”“Us,” I correct quietly. “Disappear *us*.”Luca nods once, approving.“One of those comes with ‘only if the building is actually on fi

  • Encore with the Devil   Chapter 57 – Choose Your Hell

    Luca’s words echo all the way back to the villa.*End this war, Luna. Even if it means staying with him forever.*I sit in the back of Dante’s car, staring out at the blur of the city.Yesterday, I would have scoffed.Forever with him as a price tag?No, thank you.Now, with Mia somewhere in a room that smells like fear and gun oil, the word forever feels less like romance and more like…shelter. Or at least a roof we both stand under while the sky falls.I used to think leaving him was the way out.Run far enough, hide well enough, and let the devils lose interest.Buenos Aires taught me otherwise.Marco doesn’t care where I am.He cares whose shadow I’m in.Leaving Dante didn’t remove me from the war.It stripped off what little armor I had.It made it easier for me to move.It's easier to grab.A softer target.Mia is paying for that lesson now.By the time we pull into the villa’s underground garage, my stomach is a hard knot of fear, exhaustion, and one clear thought:There’s no t

  • Encore with the Devil   Chapter 56 – Side Couple in Danger

    I know something is wrong before anyone tells me.I’m halfway down the hall toward the kitchen, thinking about Mia’s promise to bring cake, when a cold shiver runs down my spine hard enough to make my bruised arm ache.The air tastes metallic, like it did on that street in Buenos Aires, right before the van door opened.A second later, Dante’s roar tears through the house.“LUCA!”My heart slams against my ribs.I break into a run.By the time I reach his office, the door is wide open.Luca is on the couch, half‑propped up, shirt torn, wrist wrapped in something improvised—a bar towel, already blooming red. There’s a deep cut along his hairline, blood drying in dark streaks. One eye is starting to swell.Dante stands over him like a storm.“What happened?” I gasp.Luca looks up.Tries to straighten.Fails.“Mia,” he says, voice rough. “They took Mia.”The room tilts.“No,” I say.“Yes,” he replies grimly. “Van. Three, four men. Masks. They knew what they were doing. They were waiting.

  • Encore with the Devil   Chapter 55 – The L Word

    The world doesn’t hear our answers.Not all of them.Somewhere between Claudia’s question and my heartbeat, the director cuts to a wide shot, then to a pre‑taped segment about industry exploitation. “Technical difficulties,” the chyron lies.But in the room, in the bright, hot circle of lights, there are no cutaways.Just her question hanging in the air.“Do you love each other?”My mouth goes dry.Beside me, I feel Dante go very still.Claudia waits.The cameras’ little red eyes blink.I open my mouth.The word doesn’t come.Instead, something else does.“I don’t know what to call it,” I say, voice thinner than I want. “I know he broke me. I know he saved me. I know I’ve been writing about him for ten years and couldn’t stop even when I hated him. I know when I thought he was dead once, I couldn’t breathe. If that’s not some kind of love…” I trail off. “Then I don’t know what love is.”Claudia’s gaze softens.“That sounds like an answer,” she says.“It’s the best I have,” I whisper.

  • Encore with the Devil   Chapter 54 – Joint Interview

    The club doesn’t look like a club.Not today.There are no pulsing lights.No music.No sweating bodies pressed together in the dark.It’s all bright, flat light and cables and tripods. The stage where he’s hosted a hundred nights of curated decadence has been stripped down to a couch, two armchairs, and a small table with glasses of water that no one will drink.The hotel tower looms above us.Rooftop swept.Stairwells sealed.Every window in a three‑block radius is checked and double‑checked by Luca’s people.I can feel them.The guards on the perimeter.The snipers on the roof.Eyes everywhere—some to keep me alive, some to turn me into spectacle.“Five minutes,” a producer calls, voice clipped through her headset.My heart hasn’t slowed since we left the villa.Back there, the air was tense.Here, it’s razor‑thin.Mia fussed with my hair one last time.“Remember,” she says, “you don’t owe them neat arcs. You owe yourself honesty.”“I thought I owed your ulcer more caution,” I say.

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