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Chapter 80: Brielle's POV

Author: Favihann
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-05-24 17:33:10

The hallway was too clean.

Too white.

Too wrong.

I kept my back straight, even though my knees were doing that annoying, unreliable thing where they felt like noodles. Esther was the first to move, stepping carefully into the sterile corridor like she’d done it a hundred times before. Maybe she had.

“We’re being watched,” she said quietly.

“No shit,” Valerie muttered, eyes darting around.

I could barely hear my own thoughts over the buzz of panic in my ears. That voice. That stupid calm voice. “Welcome back, Brielle.”

Back. Like I’d been here before. Like I belonged here.

Ace’s hand never left my wrist.

“Brielle,” he said, low enough only I could hear. “Focus on me.”

I looked up. Met those ocean eyes. The chaos dulled.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

“Liar.”

But he let go of my wrist, gave me space.

“We need a plan,” Dawson said, eyeing the ceiling. “If that voice k
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  • The Substitute Bride of the Ruthless Mafia Boss    Chapter 100: Brielle's POV

    The scent of antiseptic clung to the safe house, mixing with the metallic whisper of rain against barred windows. Isobel’s shallow breaths from the adjacent room were a metronome of guilt. I traced the rim of a whiskey glass, its contents untouched, while Ace’s shadow loomed in the doorway—a silhouette sharp enough to cut. “She’s alive because of you,” he said, voice gravel-drying. “Not everyone gets that mercy.” “Mercy?” I scoffed, the glass trembling in my grip. “You turned her into a pawn. Just like me.” He crossed the room in three strides, snatching the glass from my hand. His thumb brushed the scar on my wrist, the one from Tokyo. “Pawns survive. Queens *sacrifice*.” “And kings?” I challenged, rising to meet his gaze. “Kings,” he murmured, fingers tangling in my hair, “devouring.” The kiss was a battle—lips and teeth and the bitter tang of betrayal. I bit down hard, drawing blood. He laughed against my mouth, the sound dark and honeyed. “Still fighting, little queen?

  • The Substitute Bride of the Ruthless Mafia Boss    Chapter 99: Brielle's POV

    The safe house was too quiet. Isobel’s whimpers had faded into drugged sleep, but they still clawed at my skull. I leaned against the bathroom sink, staring at the cracks in the mirror—each one a reminder of the fractures spreading through our lives. Valerie’s voice cut through the door. “She’s asking for you.” “She’s *asleep*,” I said, too sharply. “And you’re a terrible liar.” The door creaked open. Her scarred face softened. “Brie. Breathe.” I splashed water on my neck, where Ace’s grip had left faint bruises. “Where is he?” “Plotting murder. The usual.” She tossed me a towel. “You gonna keep avoiding him?” “Yes.” “Liar.” The hallway light flickered as I stepped out. Ace stood at the end, silhouetted like a wraith. Valerie melted away, leaving us in the electric silence. “She’ll never be the same,” I said. He didn’t move. “None of us are.” I walked toward him, my boots echoing. “Was she worth it? All the lies? The blood?” His gaze pinned me. “*You* were.”

  • The Substitute Bride of the Ruthless Mafia Boss    Chapter 98: Brielle's POV

    The gunshots faded to a ringing silence, leaving the armory choked with smoke and the metallic tang of blood. Ace’s grip on my wrist loosened, but his eyes stayed locked on mine—a silent interrogation. “Still breathing?” he asked, thumb brushing the raw scrape on my temple. I jerked away, reloading my Glock with trembling hands. “Disappointed?” Valerie’s voice crackled through the earpiece, frantic. “Brie? *Brie*—!” “Alive,” I snapped, kicking aside a fallen pistol. “For now.” Ace smirked, holstering his weapon. “Dramatic.” “Says the man who *staged his own death*.” The words hissed out, sharp as the blade he’d once pressed to Julia’s throat. “You’re a hypocrite, Ace. A beautifully lethal one, but still.” He stepped closer, the heat of him searing through the dust and gunpowder. “You’d rather I coddle you? Wrap you in bubble wrap while the Armanis pick your bones clean?” “I’d rather you *trust me*.” The air thickened. Somewhere, water dripped like a ticking clock.

  • The Substitute Bride of the Ruthless Mafia Boss    Chapter 97: Brielle's POV

    The basement safe room reeked of bleach and Julia’s floral perfume. She sat handcuffed to a steel chair, her bobbed hair matted with blood. Ace leaned against the wall, cleaning his knife with methodical precision. I watched his reflection in the two-way mirror, the blue of his eyes glacier-cold. “She’s not talking,” I said, nodding at Julia. “She will.” He didn’t look up. Valerie’s voice crackled through my earpiece. “FYI, this is *way* less fun than the gala.” I muted her, stepping into the room. Julia’s gaze snapped to me, venomous. “Still his guard dog, Brielle? Or does he let you off the leash now?” Ace’s knife still. I crouched in front of her, my silk skirt pooling like blood. “You’re alive because I allow it. Remember that.” She spat at my shoes. Ace moved faster than I could blink, his blade at her throat. “Try that again,” he murmured, “and I’ll peel your tongue out.” Julia laughed, raw and broken. “You two are a *joke*. He’ll never love you, you know. Not af

  • The Substitute Bride of the Ruthless Mafia Boss    Chapter 96: Brielle's POV

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  • The Substitute Bride of the Ruthless Mafia Boss    Chapter 95: Brielle's POV

    The morning after the Armani meeting tasted like burnt coffee and exhaustion. I sat cross-legged on the floor of Ace’s study, surrounded by maps, folders, and Valerie’s half-eaten bag of sour gummy worms. “She’s calling you ‘unstable’ again,” Valerie announced, scrolling through her phone. She lobbed a gummy worm at my head. “Also, someone photoshopped your face onto a raccoon. It’s weirdly accurate.” I didn’t look up from the dossier Esther had dumped in my lap earlier. “Raccoons are resourceful. I’ll take it.” Ace leaned against the doorway, arms folded. “Julia’s pushing harder. She’s got a press conference tonight.” “Let her talk,” I said, flipping a page. My finger traced a line about her ties to the Nightwind cartel. “The louder she screams, the easier it is to find her.” Sky wandered in, balancing three coffee cups in his hands. “Spoken like a true sociopath. Proud of you, kid.” He set a cup in front of me. “Decaf. You’re twitchy.” “I’m not twitchy,” I snapped, immed

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