The CEO’s Temptation のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 271 - チャプター 277

********************************Mack's POV*********************** The garden was a world of its own, carved out of centuries, glowing beneath the slant of the moon. I stepped barefoot onto the stone path, damp with dew, and let the coolness ground me. For the first time in months—no, years—there wasn’t the taste of gunpowder or metal in the back of my throat. There was just silence, threaded with the hum of night insects and the faint perfume of roses that someone, probably my mother once upon a time, had planted in neat rows along the hedges. Claire was ahead of me, her dress brushing against the grass, her bare shoulders catching the moonlight like porcelain warmed by silver. She had insisted we come outside, as though she could feel the walls of the house pressing in on me. She always knew when the air was too heavy in my chest. I slowed when I reached her, standing beneath the old stone arch that led into the heart of the garden. My chest ached in that familiar way it always d

--- ****************************** (Mack’s POV)********************** The evening light washed over the terrace in shades of soft gold and violet, the kind of light that never lasted long but always lingered in memory. Beyond the balustrade stretched the garden, lush and alive, the roses heavy with late bloom, their fragrance weaving into the air with the scent of the sea drifting faintly from beyond the hills. We had finished dinner hours ago, yet none of us had moved far. The plates were gone, the table cleared, but the laughter kept us tethered here together—like None of us quite wanted the night to end. Claire sat tucked into my side, her hand resting in mine, her smile quiet but radiant in a way that made every scar and storm worth it. Liz and Rowe faced us across the table, the glow of the lanterns painting their features soft. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, there was no wariness, no weight of strategy or grief. Just four people—friends, family, survivors—l

**********************************Claire’s POV****************** The first thing I felt was warmth. Not the jagged fire of fear or the bone-deep chill of dread that had haunted so many of my nights these past months, but warmth that settled low in my chest, that wrapped itself around me like a silken blanket. My eyes fluttered open to a room flooded with pale gold light, spilling through the wide windows of the grand bedroom. The curtains swayed with a lazy breeze, and beyond them, the faint song of birds carried in from the gardens. For a moment, I didn’t move. I let the reality sink in, the quiet truth of it: I was safe. I was home. I was wrapped in sheets that smelled faintly of lavender and Mack’s cologne. My skin still held echoes of his touch, the tender ache of his love from last night. It almost felt like a dream, but then I turned my head and saw him. Mack stood near the doorway, balancing a tray with one hand like it was nothing. He was dressed casually—just loose gray s