My arranged marriage のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

Ray Silence. That’s all that remained when the dust settled. No more gunshots. No more shouts. No more breathing except for mine—tight and ragged. My ears rang from the final echo, the aftermath of chaos clawing through every inch of my skull. I stood in the middle of what used to be a home, surrounded by shattered glass, overturned furniture, and the unmistakable scent of blood. Benita was gone. Moreau was gone. And yet, I didn’t feel victorious. I felt… empty. Across the room, Emma crouched next to Lucas, pressing a wad of cloth to his wound. She was whispering to him, her voice gentle and steady despite the trembling in her hands. The way she handled blood and pain now, it wasn’t the same woman who used to flinch at the sight of a paper cut. She had changed. Because of me. Because of all of this. I slipped my gun into the back of my pants and crossed the room slowly, each step heavier than the last. My shoulder throbbed from a cut I hadn’t noticed until the adrenali

Ray It wasn’t just the name—it was everything that came with it. Langston. In boardrooms, it carried weight. On Wall Street, it opened doors. But in my blood, it felt like a curse I’d spent my entire life trying to outrun. And now, it was time to turn around and face it. I stared at the screen, Emma asleep beside me on the couch, her legs curled underneath a blanket, her head resting on my thigh. The glow of the laptop cast long shadows across her peaceful face. God, she deserved peace. Deserved a life untouched by this war. But she’d chosen to fight anyway. With me. For me. I couldn’t let that be for nothing. I scrolled through the documents we’d compiled—encrypted logs, money transfers, real estate deals, fake nonprofit filings, covert port activity. All of it pointed back to one name: Langston Enterprises. All of it pointed back to my father. Everything we needed to dismantle his empire was right here. The question was—who could we trust with it? Lucas had reached

Ray The wind cut through my coat as I stepped out of the cabin one last time, the cold air snapping me to attention. Snow crunched beneath my boots, and far below, the world stretched out in a sea of silver and blue—mountains frozen in time, quiet valleys that didn’t care about headlines, betrayals, or billion-dollar collapses. Up here, the world couldn’t touch us. But it also couldn’t stay frozen forever. Behind me, Emma zipped up her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the chill, her hair tied back in a loose braid. She looked at me like she always did—like I wasn’t the broken son of a corrupt empire, but something more. Something worth saving. And maybe—for the first time in my life—I believed her. The train we caught into Lucerne was empty except for an older couple reading a newspaper and a teenage boy scrolling on a cracked phone. Emma sat beside me, her head leaning on my shoulder, one hand looped around my arm. I watched the

Ray When I was a kid, I thought power meant control. Silence in a boardroom. Eyes following your every move. A last name that carried weight, made people sit straighter. Turns out, none of that matters when you’re standing in a village where no one knows who you are—just that you show up when you say you will. That’s real power. Not dominance. But trust. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t chasing power to bury my father's shadow. I was chasing purpose—with Emma beside me. We moved slower now, not because we had to, but because we could. Mornings began with thick coffee and open laptops, balancing spreadsheets with outreach emails. The fellowship was growing faster than we planned. Our quiet office above the bookstore had tripled in size, and we were already looking for a new space. We weren’t just funding journalism. We were creating platforms. Safety nets. A family of storytellers, rebels, and truth-seekers. People I would’ve never noticed if I’d stay

Ray The night air bit against my skin as I stood on the rooftop of the Kingstone building, the skyline of Manhattan stretching before me in all its glittering, indifferent glory. The city didn’t know what it had cost me to get here—or maybe it didn’t care. Either way, the end was coming. And I was ready. Behind me, the wind whipped at my coat, and the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “Are you sure about this?” Lucas’s voice was low, hoarse from the healing wound in his side. I glanced back at him. “It ends tonight. One way or another.” He nodded grimly and joined me at the edge. “We have snipers stationed on the west building, just like you planned. Emma’s team is holding the perimeter.” My throat tightened at her name. We’d said our goodbyes earlier, just in case. She’d kissed me like it might be the last time. Maybe it would be. “They’ll be here,” I said. “Benitez doesn’t miss a chance to gloat.” Luc