KIDNAPPED BY THE SILVER MAFIA DON のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

The days merged into a haze of dull tones, the bridge between reality and the dreamlike state I had slipped into becoming fainter with each passing hour. Every morning, I awoke in a room so lovely it didn't seem like a prison, yet it remained a cage. No matter how rich the environment was, the undeniable reality remained: I was trapped.Raymond never asked anything. He'd no need to. For his presence alone was enough to keep me fixed here, in this home, in this existence. I couldn't evade him, couldn't flee the draw of his dominion, the heaviness of his stare. However, following days of silent and oppressive tension, a shift raced within me. An in-depth, faint, and uneasy change. Although it pained me to admit it, I understood that I had stopped struggling. I wasn't yelling, I wasn't scratching at the walls or attempting to escape. I was... making changes. It wasn't an option. It did not represent submission. It was something darker, something more deeper. I was discovering how to n

The cross of the moment descends into my chest, heavy and firm, as I find myself at the edge of a decision I have lost faith in. The captivity of Raymond's property is neither constructed from stone and mortar nor created from the imposing iron gates that stand outside. They consist of something much more unsafe-his spirit, his impact, the quiet pull that binds me to a realm I previously vowed to never revisit. I hold the notebook more tightly, noticing the rough margin of its faded pages dig into my hand, a solid reminder of all I have consumed this evening. Each carefully recorded aspect of my living, every intentional action, every spoken and unspoken word, all kept as though I am not an individual but an outlined, a particularly engineered blueprint that has infinitely belonged to him. Raymond observes me from the stairs, his look unemotional, yet I notice the meaning of his stare biting my skin like a mark. He need not say anything, nor does he have to remind me of what I'm alr

The scent of blood and smoke fills the air. The estate, previously a sign of strength, now resembles a war zone. Bodies are strewn across the earth, with some moaning in agony while others remain entirely motionless. The Ivanovs' crew battles with all their strength, yet Raymond's team is merciless, conditioned to eliminate without a second thought. I remain motionless at the doorway, the firearm still hot in my grip, my breathing quickening. I spot Raymond amidst the turmoil, moving as if he's a part of it. He battles with accuracy, each strike, every motion planned. He doesn't waver, doesn't pause. This is his domain, and he holds full authority. However, I notice another thing-motion behind him. A man in black emerged from the darkness, gun drawn and aimed at Raymond's back. I do not think. I raise my weapon, fingers trembling, heart pounding within my chest. I shoot. The bullet slices through the air, striking the man in the chest before he manages to pull the trigger. He f

Carter's hold strengthens on my wrist, his fingers pressing into my skin as he pulls me back. My body crashes into his chest, forcing the breath from my lungs. I fight, writhing, grasping at his arm, but he won't release it. "Take it easy," he whispers, his breath gentle against my ear. "Wouldn't like to harm yourself." The shots keep firing all around us. Men yell, metal grinds on concrete, and the strong odor of smoke lingers in the atmosphere. I catch a glimpse of Lorenzo from the side, hiding behind a dark vehicle, his weapon drawn as he looks for an unobstructed target. However, he does not shoot. He is unable to. Not while I'm held in Carter's grip. Raymond stands by the entrance of the warehouse, his expression a facade of icy rage. His firearm is already targeted, firm and resolute. However, he does not fire the weapon. For a brief moment, his gaze locks onto mine, and a sharp ache twists within my chest. Carter laughs softly. "Take a look at that." The magnificent Raymond

Returning to the estate, everything feels altered. Carter has left. The danger has passed. However, I do not feel liberated. I remain in my room, gazing at the walls, at the door that doesn't require locking anymore. I could leave if I wished. Nobody is pursuing me anymore. Nobody is coming for me. However, the idea of departing doesn't provide the comfort I anticipate. Where should I head? My dad has passed away. Carter has left. The life I used to live is gone now. I have no one and nothing beyond these walls, no one anticipating my return. The home is quiet, yet I am aware that Raymond is present. He consistently is. Somewhere beneath these walls, he operates with the same silent control he always maintains. His soldiers traverse the corridors, vigilant and prepared, despite the fact that the fight has concluded. But is it truly finished? I draw my knees to my chest, inhaling deeply. The air has the scent of fresh linen, premium wood polish, and something untainted by the ou