Mag-log inWelcome to Blackwood University, where the tuition costs a fortune, but the secrets cost your life. I thought a scholarship to the country’s most elite university was my ticket out of the shadows. I was wrong. I didn’t just walk into a school; I walked into a lion’s den. And sitting on the throne is Niccolò De Luca. Nico is beautiful, brilliant, and brutal. He is the heir to the most powerful crime syndicate on the East Coast, and he runs this campus like his personal kingdom. He breaks hearts, he breaks bones, and now, he’s decided to break me. Not because I’m the scholarship case. But because he knows who I really am. I am the daughter of the man who stole millions from the De Luca family and vanished. Nico intends to use me to lure my father out of hiding. His plan is simple: torment me until I break, make my life a living hell, and keep me under his thumb until the debt is paid in blood. But the line between hate and obsession is razor-thin. When his torment turns into possessiveness, and his taunts turn into touches I can’t refuse, the game changes. I was supposed to be his pawn, but I’m becoming his weakness. Now, with a rival family closing in on campus and my father’s enemies circling, Nico has to make a choice: Hand me over to settle the score... or burn the world down to keep me. "You think you can hide from me in the library, little mouse?" Nico whispered, his breath hot against the shell of my ear as he pinned me against the stacks. "You are living on borrowed time. And unfortunately for you, I’m the one collecting the interest."
view more祝福の拍手が起こるはずだった、その瞬間だった。
「|朝比奈《あさひな》|小春《こはる》。お前との婚約を破棄する」
その声に、会場は水を打ったように静まり返った。
小春はゆっくりと顔を上げる。
目の前には婚約者である|門倉《かどくら》|悠真《ゆうま》。
悠真の手は、その隣に立つ小春の異母妹・|朝比奈《あさひな》|千夏《ちなつ》の肩を抱いていた。
千夏はお腹をかばうように両手を添え、震えている。
「お姉様……ごめんなさい」
小春と千夏の視線が絡む。
千夏の瞳の奥には隠しきれない優越感が滲んでいた。
(この計画があったから、こんな格好をさせたのね)
小春は自分の着ているドレスを見る。
今日のために新しく仕立てると聞いたとき喜んだ自分を愚かに思った。
はしたないほど肌の見えるドレス。
(これでは本当に"悪女"だわ)
会場に集まった医療関係者や財界人たちがざわめき始める。
「やっぱり悪女だったか」
「千夏先生を虐めていた話も本当だったんだ」
「門倉先生も被害者だな」
その囁きに小春は何一つ言い返さなかった。
言い返せないのではない。
言い返してはいけないのだ。
.
「千夏のお腹には俺の子がいる」
小春の沈黙を抵抗だと思ったのか、悠真が迷いなく言い放つ。
「俺は愛する女性と、その子どもを守りたい」
会場から感動のため息が漏れる。
「なんて責任感があるの」
「素敵……」
「悪女より可憐な聖女を選ぶなんて当然よね」
誰も彼もが悠真と千夏を称賛し、小春を蔑む。
その様子を見ながら、小春は静かに微笑んだ。
「分かりました」
小春のその一言に、悠真は眉をひそめる。
「引き留めないのか」
「引き留める理由がありませんもの」
虚無感に飲み込まれそうだ。
悠真との婚約は小春が生まれてすぐ、政略的に結ばれたもの。
恋だったのかは分からない。
それでも、大切な婚約者だった。
小春は千夏を見た。
正確にはその腹部を。
(子ども……)
子どもがいる以上、男と女の恋情の話ではない。
一つの命がかかわる問題だ。
「どうぞ、お幸せに……」
「……なんだ、その態度は」
淡々と返した小春の言葉に、今度は朝比奈家の当主であり、小春の父・朝比奈崇道が怒鳴り声が被さる。
「なぜお前はいつもそう千夏にきつく当たるんだ」
会場中の視線が小春へ突き刺さる。
「千夏に謝りなさい!」
「はい」
小春は何の迷いもなく頭を下げた。
「申し訳ありませんでした」
誰もが驚いた。
傲慢で自分勝手。
いつも家族を困らせていると言われている悪女が、あっさりと謝罪したからだ。
騒めきが戸惑いになる。
「お姉ちゃん……」
悠真から離れ、千夏は小春に歩み寄り、その手を取った。
その瞬間――。
「お腹が……」
ふらついた千夏が倒れ込んできた。
咄嗟に小春は受け止めたが、すぐに左腕に痛みを感じた。
千夏が強く掴んでいるそこは、幼い頃に負った怪我の後遺症がある場所。
「……っ!」
さらに強く握られ、強い痛みが走る。
反射的に小春が腕を振ると、千夏が大きく悲鳴を上げた。
「千夏先生が!」
誰かの声で、会場は一斉に小春を非難しはじめる。
千夏の体は悠真が抱き留めて大事なかったが、力が抜けたように悠真に寄り掛かる。
「君という女はっ!」
悠真の怒りが小春に向く。
自分は何もしていない。
そう仕向けたのは千夏だ。
でも、小春の声を聴いてくれる者はいない。
「……申し訳ありません」
だから謝るしかできなかった。
それでも。
「心がこもっていない!」
「だから悪女なんだ!」
小春を責める声は強くなるばかり。
小春は知っていた。
どんな言葉も、どんな態度も、この人たちには届かない。
でも否定はしない。
悪女。
それが与えられた小春の役目だから。
「お前はもう下がりなさい」
父親の幕引きの言葉に小春は内心ため息を吐いた。
◇◇◇
小春が去った会場は、悠真と千夏の婚約を祝うパーティーになっていた。
悠真は千夏の肩を抱き寄せる。
「千夏、俺と結婚してくれ」
「もちろんよ」
再び拍手が起こる。
そんな会場を、端に立って鋭い眼差しで見つめる男がいた。
経済界でも社交界でも『冷酷』と恐れられる男――篠原樹。
「とんだ茶番だな」
樹はグラスを傍のテーブルに置くとパーティー会場を後にした。
Matteo’s POVI sat at the kitchen island, the penthouse was dark. Three guns lay in front of me, I was cleaning them."It is three in the morning," a quiet voice said.I looked up. Sloane stood in the doorway. She wore my old gray t-shirt. Her bare legs looked soft in the moonlight."I know," I replied.She walked over and took a seat on the stool next to me. She glanced at the gun in my hands."You already cleaned that one," Sloane said. "Twice."I stopped wiping the metal barrel and set the cloth down. She was right."I am just thinking," I explained."About the wedding?" she asked."About the war," I corrected.Sloane sighed and reached out to touch my hand. Her fingers were cold, I intertwined my fingers with hers and held on tightly."We will win, Matteo," she said softly. "We always win.""This is different," I said. I looked into her eyes. "This is Massimo and Lorenzo. They know all our secrets, they know how we fight.""Then we fight differently," she responded.I shook my hea
Elena’s POVI stared at the bloody silk on the floor, then turned to Nico."Wait," I said.He paused with his hand on the bathroom doorknob. "What is it?""The wedding," I whispered. "We don't cancel it."Nico frowned. "You just said we are planning a war.""The wedding is the war, Nico." I stepped closer. "If we stop, they win. They want us to be afraid, they want us to hide."Nico studied my face. "It will be a trap, Elena. Everyone will be there. My father won't stop trying to kill you.""I don’t care," I said. My voice was steady. "We do it on the exact same day, at the exact same church. We make them watch us take the throne."Nico’s eyes brightened. He pulled me in and kissed my forehead. "You are crazy. And you are perfect."I put on a clean black shirt and sweatpants. We walked out of the bedroom into the home office.Matteo, Dante, Sloane, and Bianca waited for us.The room felt heavy with grief. Dante sat in a chair, staring blankly at the floor, he looked completely broken.
ELENA POV"Are you hit?" Nico demanded. His hands moved quickly, checking my arms, my chest, my legs."I'm fine," I gasped. I looked down at my wedding dress. The blood was red against the silk. "Nico, you’re bleeding."He touched the side of his neck. A sharp piece of marble had cut deep into his skin. He stared at the blood on his fingers as if it meant nothing."Get to the hallway," he ordered. "Crawl. Do not stand up."I crawled over the broken glass. The cold wind howled through the shattered window, freezing the sweat on my skin.Sloane grabbed my arm and pulled me behind the concrete wall of the corridor. Bianca was right next to her, pale and shaking.The private elevator dinged, the doors flew open.Matteo and Dante rushed out, their guns raised."Who did it?" Matteo yelled. His eyes searched the ruined living room. "Where is the shooter?""Gone," Sloane said coldly. "It was a sniper from the south tower."Dante looked at Nico. Nico was leaning against the wall, pressing a wh
Book three of Owned by the king of blackwood A mafia's wedding dress doesn't just need to look beautiful it also needs to hide a gun.I stood on the pedestal, staring at my reflection while Bianca yanked the corset laces so tight I could barely pull air into my lungs."B, stop," I gasped, clutching the mirror. "You’re going to crack a rib.""Beauty is pain, Elena," Bianca snapped, her mouth full of pins. "You’re marrying the King of New York in two weeks. You aren’t walking down that aisle looking soft."Across the room, Sloane was sprawled upside down on a sofa, flipping a silver throwing knife. Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch. "It needs more pockets," Sloane said, pointing the blade at my thigh. "Where are you hiding the extra magazines? You can’t put them in the bouquet. It’ll ruin your aim when you have to toss it."I forced a laugh. "Matteo and Dante have six rings of security around the cathedral, Sloane. It’s the safest place in the city."Sloane sat up, sheathing the knife in her bo
I couldn't go back to the room. I couldn't sit in that beautiful, cold cage and stare at the dress I was supposed to wear to my execution.When the SUV dropped us off at the manor, Nico disappeared into his study with Matteo to discuss business; I assumed that meant making sure my uncle stayed in p
I washed my face three times, the cold water didn't stop me from shaking. I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I looked the same—same dark eyes, same mouth, same hair, but I wasn't the same anymore, I felt like a traitor. I checked the time. 9:05 AM. Class had started. I had to go i
I didn’t sleep.The piece of paper with my uncle’s name on it sat on the nightstand. It stared at me all night like a watching eye.Professor Arthur Vance.He was the only person who sent me a birthday card every year. He taught History. He didn't know anything about stolen money or the mafia and N
I stared at the closet door for a full minute before I gathered the courage to touch the handle. My hand hovered, trembling, the brass knob cool against my clammy skin.Don’t make me come get you.I recalled.I pulled the door open.I expected it to be empty, or perhaps filled with my own pathetic,












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