Claiming His Queen のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Lily"...I’ve always been his, and he’s always been mine."I shut the book I had been reading aloud to a couple of senior citizens, my relief and sadness of leaving another fictional world to face my harsh reality.Catching myself in time before I slipped into my daily dose of sadness, I looked at my listeners, all sitting on the same settee, attention still on me, and I knew they shared my sadness about it ending."Finn reminds me of my late husband," Clare, one of my patients under me, whispers as if she was telling me a dirty little secret.I chuckled, standing on my feet, knowing there was about to be trouble. Counting mentally, I was at three when another voice of a grey-haired woman grumbled, "Enough of your fictional husband." I saw Sarah rolling her eyes at Clare, her hand curling around her walking frame as she struggled to stand up.It didn't stop Clare from staring at her ring and smiling fondly at memories she had made up from my constant reading to them of my romance boo

I stepped out of the Taxi to find my landlord next to the blue building with peeling paint that was my abode which I shared with my mum and little sister.Seeing him, my first thought was to get back into the taxi and flee that Arena; maybe returning when it was almost morning or sleeping back at Lucia's place tugged at my mind.But then he immediately turned, spotting me on the sidewalk, and his face turned a shade of red, and it wasn't the cold.Squaring my shoulders, I scaled past running bicycles of rebellious teenagers before dodging balls of children trying to hit their goalpost made of piled stones; then finally, I stopped before Squalo, my landlord Squalo wasn't his real name, but few people knew what it was, and most of his Tenants weren't one of them, but I heard the reason he was called Squalo was because of his ability to instill fear in his debtors.And now I was one of them.Standing before him, I jumped into action, "Signor Squalor, things have really been tight lately

Losing the most important person in my life was my breaking point. Remembering back, it was at this time I lost the will to leave.Nothing held meaning anymore, not the urge to continue moving on when there was nothing to live for anymore.The beautiful house, bright lights, floral gowns, and made-up face.Speaking of a made-up face, there was a lot of mess streaking down my face, soiling the white gown I wore. My shoes had been kicked off my feet as I lay on the rug on the floor, sobbing with my hands wrapped around my knees.I couldn't fathom how many minutes or even hours I had been lying down here, blocking the outside world out. The girl who helped me dress looked helpless, trying to get me up and to the car.All she received was a teary stare before she scurried for.There was no use going to the church to continue this mess. The reason was dead; the cause could have been alive if two men who owned so much had just helped me out.𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒈! A burning sensation filled my chest at

My mother told me and my sister, "When life changes, go with the flow." And I always did that, got the negative news, cried the night and the morning, with my head held high, I was ready to brace the storm.But now, I was a hare caught in a headlight, against a fence, with nowhere to run to, a murderer with the gentlest touch holding me close.Leaning down, he placed his forehead against mine so he was looking into my eyes, raising the ring that had stopped at his boot some minutes ago, "I ditched the jacket," he grinned, "there's a suit, your gown looks beautiful, wanna get married?"Huhn?He threw the ring away, "Ha, just kidding," but why was he looking disappointed, and why did that sound like false cheer?Shadows suddenly filled the church door, Don Adler turned, and his face straightened, "What does it take for me to have alone time?""Jesus Christ Adler." I turned to the door to find two more men entering. The one who the voice had come from was in a black polo shirt and blac

AUTHOR'S POV (ADLER.)He knew she was recollecting, her face dawning in recognition as more minutes passed but still staring at him in unbelief.For a moment, he thought she couldn't remember that afternoon years ago because she was someone who would jump at any opportunity to offer help to just anyone.So maybe their case wasn't that special.But she did; she kept him in her memories just like he had kept her in his, but maybe not as much as he had held her, like seeing her in his dreams, having nightstands with girls that had her features.It never gave him that fill, that thrill he had gotten lying under the shed, his head resting against a pile of bags she had gathered, for him while she continued to try to pry the gun out of his hands."Stai per premere il grilletto su te stesso!" She'd chided. You're about to pull the trigger on yourself.And even as he lay there fighting for his life, he remembered the only reason he had refused to let the gun go was so she kept repeating that