บททั้งหมดของ How to Escape from a Ruthless Mobster: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

POV: RyuuMy hands trembled, the roar of blood rushing through my ears drowning out everything else. Each breath clawed at my chest, tight and unrelenting. I barely made it to the bedroom, the weight of Vincenzo Espósito's name pressing down on me like a curse.Beatrice stood there, watching in silence. I wanted her gone, to let me drown alone in this storm of fury and pain. But the words wouldn't come, trapped behind clenched teeth.I tore at my clothes, ripping fabric in my desperation to shed the suffocating weight of my past. That man—my grandfather—Vincenzo Espósito. A name whispered in hate, spat from my father's lips my entire life. And now, I understood why.Twenty-four years. A lifetime of lies. How had they buried something so colossal? How had I never known?My shirt hung off my shoulders, my pants unfastened, my tie slack around my neck. I collapsed to my knees, fingers digging into my chest as I fought to breathe. The ragged sound filled the room, and then Beatrice moved—

POV: BeatriceThe Morunaga Hotel restaurant was exactly what I expected—sophisticated, calculated. Candlelight flickered across tables draped in white linen, vines twisted from the ceiling, their pale flowers swaying under soft golden lights. The air smelled of expensive wine and ambition. Every seat was filled, yet the strategic spacing ensured an illusion of privacy. Our table, tucked into a shadowed corner, felt more like a containment than a courtesy.Eyes followed us the moment we walked in. They always did. Ryuu thrived under it, the tailored darkness of his suit sharpening the edges of his already imposing presence. His hair, styled with precision, and the weight of gold rings on his fingers painted a perfect picture of power wrapped in elegance. A businessman on the surface. A predator beneath.I sat across from him, feeling the weight of his silence. He scanned the restaurant, eyes moving over every detail, every person, like he owned them all. When his gaze finally met mine,

POV: BeatriceDisgust settled deep in my chest as I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My face twisted, fingers trembling as they traced the bruises blooming along my collarbone. Evidence of him. What the hell had he done to me?Shame burned hot on my cheeks. My body was still damp from the shower, wet hair clinging to my skin, but I couldn’t look away. I stood there, motionless, staring at the woman in the mirror—a fool, a traitor to her own principles. I didn’t recognize her. And the longer I looked, the heavier last night pressed down on me.I couldn’t even blame the alcohol. I had barely drunk anything. The memory of his hands, his mouth, the way he unraveled me piece by piece—it sent an unwanted pulse of heat through me. My thighs pressed together against my will.There was no undoing it now. No taking it back. The marriage I never wanted was now fully consummated.I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it to be a dream, some fleeting moment of madness. But the crumpled shee

POV: Ryuu"I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me." The words scraped out, rougher than I meant. My fingers dug into my scalp before I dropped my hand, useless against the tension twisting inside me. "I’m sorry your father took that choice from you. But fighting won’t change anything."She arched a brow, unimpressed."I’m not the only one fighting, sweetheart." Sharp, clipped. Her gaze cut straight through me. "A relationship isn’t a dictatorship. And this? This isn’t a marriage. It’s theater. Until you stop clinging to control, there’s nothing here. Not even civility."Beatrice moved—slow, deliberate. The silk of her blouse slipped, revealing just enough to wreck my focus. Pale skin, the soft curve of her breasts, the scent of something warm and intoxicating. Her perfume? Lotion? It didn’t matter. It hit me like a drug, curling deep in my lungs, coiling tight in my gut. Heat unfurled, unwanted and undeniable.I clenched my jaw, shutting my eyes against the pull. She wasn’t trying to sed

POV: BeatriceDinner was suffocating. The weight of silence pressed down, thick and unyielding. My gaze flicked around the table, taking in the rare sight— all three Morunaga brothers, and Dario. The tension between them, unspoken but tangible, made my stomach twist.Dario sat to my right, stiff and withdrawn, his bruised face a stark reminder of his earlier clash with Ryuu. He hadn’t said a word since we sat down, avoiding my eyes as if looking at me would only worsen his situation. Across from me, Ryuu remained unreadable, his presence both unsettling and oddly grounding.I silently thanked whatever force had kept Gojou away tonight, but the relief was fleeting. If he found out about Dario’s arrival—and the fight—things could spiral further. My grip tightened on my fork, the pressure grounding me.Fukui broke the silence. "Are you alright?"I forced a nod, my voice flat. "Just tired."He offered a small, knowing smile, but it felt empty. Pity. That was what he saw when he looked at