Mafia King's Contract Wife: The Angel of Revenge のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

Nico's POVI had just shifted the car into reverse when Tulio suddenly popped his head between the front seats.“Uncle! Angel left her folder back here!”I glanced into the rearview mirror. Sure enough, the leather-bound portfolio she’d worked on all night was lying forgotten on the seat beside him. Pages were peeking out—her sketches for the new collection, the ones she hadn’t even let me see yet.I sighed. “It’s alright. I’ll drop it off to her after I take you to school.”But of course, that wasn’t good enough for Tulio.“Nooo,” he whined, already unbuckling himself, “I won’t be late for school, I promise! I really think she needs it right now. Just let me run and give it to her real quick, please? If you don’t want to go.”Even at his age, the brat knew exactly how to press my buttons. That wide-eyed sincerity, the little voice pitched just right. He could’ve been a goddamn politician.I threw the car back into park with a click and looked at him sternly. “Fine. But I better find

Nico turned to me, his voice quieter now but no less firm."Is there anything else you want to tell them, Miley?"I looked up, scanning the faces around me. The same ones who whispered behind my back moments ago. My heart was still thudding, not out of fear anymore, but from the weight of finally being seen.Before I could speak, one of the senior staff members — Mr. Desai from Finance — stepped forward.“We sincerely apologize, Miss Miley,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. “We didn’t mean to insult you. Truly. If needed, we’re willing to issue an official apology from the team.”I blinked, surprised by the shift.Another voice chimed in from the design side — I recognized her from the prints team.“I… I just want to say we respect your leadership. I was wrong to judge. I see that now.”Murmurs of agreement followed. A few heads nodded. A couple of them even looked ashamed.I exhaled slowly. My voice came out steady.“It’s okay. I understand that transitions are hard. But this co

Author's POV:Emily woke to the faint metallic chirp of her phone buzzing against the glass top of her nightstand. She blinked blearily at the sunlight cutting through the blinds, the warm stripes of gold falling across her sheets. Normally she would have ignored it and slept another hour, but the buzz came again, persistent.With a groan, she rolled over and snatched the phone up. The screen lit with a flurry of messages in her friends’ group chat, but one in particular made her sit up straighter.A headline.“Miley Godfrey Pushes for Reinvestigation into Isabella Godfrey’s Death.”Emily’s stomach dropped. She tapped the link so hard her nail clicked against the glass. The article loaded quickly, complete with a sharp, professional photo of Miley, looking determined in a dark blazer. The text beneath spelled it out in cold, unavoidable words: Miley had officially submitted a request to reopen the case surrounding her mother’s death, citing “unresolved questions” and “inconsistencies

The message is still glowing on my screen when I step out of the car. I found something.I stare at it for a long moment, letting the words sink in. This source has been a ghost for weeks—unreachable and silent. And now they decide to drop this bomb? My pulse kicks up, but I force myself to slip the phone into my pocket without replying. Never answer too quickly. Nico’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Do I need to clear your schedule for tomorrow?” “Yes,” I say without looking at him. “Completely.” He doesn’t ask why. He just nods and heads inside. That’s the thing about Nico—he doesn’t need all the details to protect me. I linger by the entrance for a moment, scanning the street. And that’s when I see her. Emily. She’s across the road, pretending to be on her phone, but she’s angled just enough to watch me. The same Emily I spotted at the press conference. My lips curl. She came back for another look. I don’t give her time to decide whether to run. I cross the street slowly,

Miley's POV I woke up with the weight of the flash drive still heavy in my mind, even though it was just a small piece of metal sitting on my nightstand. The files I’d gone through last night weren’t just numbers and dates—they were threads. Threads leading somewhere Emily would never want me to go. Which is exactly why I wasn’t going to go there. Not yet. If I stormed straight at her family, they’d barricade every door before I even knocked. But if I let her think I was lost, heading in the wrong direction, she’d breathe easier. She’d get careless. And careless people make mistakes. I got dressed, hair pulled back into something sleek, and called my PR head before breakfast. “I want a press update scheduled today. Noon. Keep it under the guise of a corporate briefing.” “Got it,” she said without missing a beat. “Any special talking points?” “Oh, just a little… misdirection.” By the time I arrived at the venue, the air outside was already thick with camera flashes and murmurs.