The Mafia's Little Obsession のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Elena’s Point Of ViewThe mirror reflected a woman I barely recognized. The stylist's skilled hands pulled and twisted my hair into an intricate updo while another dabbed a brush across my cheekbones, adding a soft blush. The Lilac Mikado gown I wore shimmered under the warm lights of my room, hugging every curve in a way that would undoubtedly command attention. Nicholas had insisted that I look perfect for tonight’s event, and I wasn’t one to disappoint, not out of loyalty, but necessity.It wasn’t lost on me that this was more about his reputation than anything else. Still, I couldn’t deny the small flicker of satisfaction as I glanced at my reflection. For once, I felt more... powerful.My phone buzzed on the vanity, snapping me out of my thoughts. Drew’s name lit up the screen. A knot tightened in my stomach. He’d been persistent, relentless even, since the day Marco had oh-so-kindly outed me as “Mrs. De Luca.” Drew’s curiosity had morphed into determination, a dangerous cocktail

Nicholas’s Point Of ViewThe sunlight pierced through the curtains, golden and unrelenting, burning into my skull like a cruel reminder of my hangover. My temples throbbed, and the bitter taste of last night's whiskey still lingered on my tongue. Groaning slightly, I pressed a hand to my forehead, wincing as the dull ache intensified.I shifted slightly, and that’s when I felt some thing, a gentle presence beside me. My head turned slowly, and there she wasElena!Her face was serene, lips slightly parted as she breathed softly, her hair splayed across the pillow like a dark halo.I couldn’t look away.For a moment, all my fury and confusion melted away. Her beauty was almost too much to bear, as if God had sculpted her from the heavens just to torment me. My gaze traveled over the delicate slope of her nose, the curve of her jawline, and the way her lashes rested like shadows on her cheeks.What would it be like to wake up to this beauty every morning? To call her mine in every sense

Elena’s Point Of ViewThe restaurant was nothing short of breathtaking. Chandeliers dripped with crystals, scattering soft, golden light across the room, and every table was a masterpiece of elegant simplicity, white linens, gleaming silverware, and a single, fresh rose in a glass vase. The soft hum of a piano floated through the air, blending seamlessly with the gentle murmur of conversations. The waiter led us through the crowded dining area to a corner table near the window, offering a spectacular view of the city skyline twinkling like a thousand tiny stars.“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. De Luca,” the waiter greeted, his polished tone betraying no hint of the tension that gripped me. He pulled out my chair, and I sat stiffly, feeling Nicholas’s presence as he settled across from me.“Thank you,” Nicholas said curtly, his deep voice resonating in the intimate setting. The waiter handed us menus, nodded, and disappeared.I glanced at the menu, but the words blurred together. My mind k

Nicholas’s Point Of ViewThe office smelled of polished mahogany and leather, a sharp contrast to the chaos strewn across my desk. The papers, contracts, reports, and goddamned requisitions, piled high, taunting me with their disorder. I leaned back in the chair that once belonged to Emilio Torres, Elena’s father, and glanced at the framed photo of him on the wall.“These are one hell of a messy company. How did Emilio run this damn collapsing company,” I muttered under my breath.A faint knock interrupted my thoughts. Without looking up, I barked, “Come in.”The door creaked open, and a hesitant voice floated in. “S-Sir, Mrs. De Luca has taken her seat with the marketing team.”Finally, I glanced up. Mary, Emilio's secretary now mine, stood at the doorway, wringing her hands like a nervous schoolgirl caught out of line. Her eyes darted around, carefully avoiding direct contact with mine.I dropped the pen I was holding and steepled my fingers. “Did you get the assistant I requested f

Elena’s Point of ViewThe sterile smell of the lobby mixed with the faint scent of coffee wafting from the receptionist’s desk made my stomach churn. I sat motionless on the cold, uncomfortable chair, my hands trembling despite Xena’s reassuring grip on my shoulder. Police officers swarmed the area, their radios crackling with fragmented conversations.My breath hitched every time I glanced at the revolving door, half-expecting those bastards to storm in and finish me off. There were people here, innocent people and yet they chose to strike, I had been the target. The thought gnawed at me."Ma’am, you need to drink this," one of the officers said, handing me a glass of water. His voice was gentle, but his presence felt imposing.I nodded and took the glass, my fingers tightening around it to stop the shaking. Xena leaned closer, rubbing soothing circles on my back. “It’s going to be okay, ma’am,” she whispered.But was it? They would strike again, I just knew they would.“Mrs De Luca,