บททั้งหมดของ Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance : บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

---Blackwood Mansion – The Next MorningSunlight had cut the lace on Leya's bed like glass scattered with pale. Far. Away.Leya hadn't slept.Not quite.Her body had slept, spread out over a half-finished blanket, but her mind had walked dark halls, locked inside her eyes, whispering all the things they'd screamed at her yesterday.> "Beggar.""Leech.""Embarrassment.""Get out.".Each word is constructed of wet, dead sounds, obstinately will. But Leya didn't bleed. Not that they could see.And that scared them.DoneDoneDoneDoneDoneDoneDoneDoneDoneServants' Corridor – 8:00 A.M.Standing in the doorway to the scullery, folding napkins in creased and mechanical hands."Juliet says Nathaniel's inquiring," Clara panted. "Inquires about the necklace. Inquires about the night in question."Leya did not lift her eyes. "Let him.""He's inquiring."This time Leya's hands shook over the cloth.She looked down at the linen — white, clean, folded."I cried," she breathed. "It did not ma

---Morrison Family Apartment – South FairbridgeThe flat remained the same.Leya stood there, screwed-up coat firmly tied over the gusts, heels still trembling with the marble cold of Blackwood. But the wind was now heavy with the scent of boiled yam, petrol, and rain in the afternoon — not with the scent of lavender polish and old money.She'd said nothing to anyone, not even to herself, in fact.Exhaustion had brought her to a conclusion about herself.She'd rehearsed it all: sitting with her mother and speaking — the wedding, the bargain, the silence, the cruelty. How she would speak the words out loud, and spoken, she would not carry their weight.She raised her hand to knock.Before she could, the door opened."Leya?"Her mother's voice was a lightness of surprise.And something else."Hello, Mama," Leya said, glaze of breath on the air. "May I come in?"---Inside – Late AfternoonIt was warm inside, smells she knew: spice, fabric softener, rice on the stove.It was entering an

Blackwood Mansion – The Evening Leya Came HomePurple-black the sky hung over Blackwood Estate, clouds leaking like stigmata into the stars. Her heels clicked on pebbles as she got out of the taxi, but Leya did not turn her shoulder to glance back at the driver. She didn't even say the word for it.Her fingers were cold.But the cold was not the wind.It was the stench of antiseptic from the hospital, the hum of equipment sluicing over her brother's broken body, her mother's fingers around her hands as if she grasped the rim of the world.Her mother attempted to be brave. She always did.But Leya caught it—the apologia appended to the end of every sentence she never got to say.We didn't want to trouble you at all…"You already have your hands full…""They'd think we're just after money…"But Leya didn't require anything more from the Blackwoods these days.She required Dalton—required his rumble laughter, required his crooked smile, required the way he'd toss his school pack around h

--- Blackwood Mansion – That Night It began as all the Blackwood raucous parties began: gold-rimmed glasses, dancing candle flames off crystal, and slippers toe-tapping on marble. Leya didn't get to witness it. She sat on the edge of her bed, peeling the thick bandage off her wrist. The skin underneath was red, puffy, and her fingers hurt from wrapping it in ice water. It ached with a dullness now. Tolerable. But the ache underneath that never went away-the one that still lodged deep in the recesses of her chest, where words once lived-that never went away. She had tried to do something right. And it had been thrown back at her, molded into a tool of remembrance. --- Flashback – Earlier That Afternoon Harrison had left just seconds behind Nathaniel. Stoic, still. He hadn't looked over his shoulder at her as he disappeared into the corridors. He hadn't said anything. But he'd gone straight to the trendy bar. Dark. Quiet. He liked it that way. Bottle on top of b

--- Blackwood Mansion – Nightfall Imperiously, it had begun in footsteps. Heavy. Staccato. Enraged. They crashed downstairs and echoed off marble corridors like a gathering storm. Then— > "LEYA!" The scream ripped at the stillness like a lash. She sprang out of bed in fright. In a nightgown alone. Her neck elongated. Her wrist was still wrapped in strips of linen. A shout again. > "Get out here! Now!" She had not gotten out of bed until the door opened. Harrison. Red-eyed, gasping. Fury twisted every muscle in him. "What—what is it?" she bellowed, voice thick with sleep. He did not answer. He had not needed to. There were two guards in the corridor outside. "Come down." "I don't want to, Harrison, please—" He did not come to pull her down. He had not needed to. His voice brought her down more forcibly than arms. "Play stupid, eh?" he snarled, baring teeth. "Let's play it out to the end where everyone can witness it." --- Blackwood Ballroom –