Semua Bab Mafia King's Contract Wife: The Angel of Revenge: Bab 111 - Bab 120

Miley's POV The rain had stopped by the time I reached Church Street again, but the air still smelled of wet stone and secrets. My boots left damp marks as I stepped into the narrow alley, the kind of place that carried whispers long after people were gone. Every time I returned here, I felt as though the street was tugging me deeper, pulling threads I wasn’t ready to untangle. I kept my hood up, hands buried in my coat pockets, clutching the small notebook I’d started filling with connections, names, fragments of conversations that might mean nothing—or everything. Emily’s panic-stricken face at the last gathering replayed in my mind like a broken reel. She knew something. Maybe she knew everything. And if she was unraveling, that meant I was getting close. I pushed open the rusted gate of an abandoned chapel. The hinges groaned like they hadn’t been touched in years, though the faint trail of footprints in the mud told me otherwise. Someone had been here recently. My chest tight

Nico's POV The rain had not stopped since morning. It came down in sheets, slicking the streets, drumming against the windshield, and making the wipers work like their lives depended on it. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, every nerve in my body screaming with tension. Something was wrong. I could feel it the way soldiers sense a trap before they even see it.Miley sat beside me, quiet, her hands folded in her lap. She had been like this all morning, ever since the latest clue about her mother had surfaced. She was locked inside herself, but her silence wasn’t empty—it was heavy, brimming with a storm I couldn’t touch. I hated it. I wanted her to scream at me, cry into my chest, even curse me if it would ease the weight on her shoulders. Anything but this silence.“Talk to me,” I finally said, my voice rougher than intended. “Don’t keep it all inside, angel. Not with me.”She didn’t move at first, her gaze fixed on the streaked glass. Then she whispered, almost too low to h

Miley’s POVThe rain hadn’t let up, but I barely noticed. The alleyway, slick and glistening, felt more like a battlefield than a street. Nico stayed at my side, every step precise and controlled, his hand still wrapped around mine. The men who had tried to intimidate me earlier had melted back into the shadows, at least for now, leaving only tension in their wake.I took a deep breath and focused on the next step, the one that would bring everything into sharp, dangerous clarity. I had the ring. Isabelle’s ring. The one she had worn the day she disappeared. And now, in my hands, it was more than a piece of jewelry; it was the key to exposing everything.We ducked under the overhang of an old building, shaking off the rain, and I placed the ring gently on the inspection table Nico had arranged. His eyes never left me, protective, assessing, a silent promise that he would shield me from the fallout.“Are you sure you want to do this now?” Nico asked, voice low, calm, but carrying that

Miley’s POVI stood frozen under the dim light of the hall, my hands clenched at my sides, nails biting into skin. Emily’s voice still echoed in my mind, that high-pitched panic she’d tried to disguise with calm. But nothing could disguise the guilt that leaked from every word she said.She stood before me now, trembling but trying to hold herself together, her parents flanking her like two pillars of polished stone. Their faces carried the kind of arrogance only people who believed themselves untouchable could wear. And in that moment, something inside me hardened.“You lied,” I said, my voice hoarse, quiet, but sharp enough to slice through the static of the storm.Emily’s lips parted. “Miley, I—”“Don’t.” My chest rose and fell with jagged breaths. “I don’t want excuses. I want the truth. And if you can’t give it, I’ll rip it out myself.”I saw the flicker in her eyes. Guilt. Panic. She tried to step closer, but Nico’s presence loomed behind me, steady and protective. His hand brus

Miley’s POVI had barely stepped into my office the next morning when the first whispers reached me. Emily’s fingerprints were all over them, though she wasn’t even here yet. Someone had leaked information that our upcoming launch had “potential flaws” in design, that the schedules were slipping, that the company might be in jeopardy if I didn’t step in personally.I leaned back in my chair, letting the hum of the city below me fade into background noise. I had anticipated this. Emily had always been quick to manipulate perception, to use other people as pawns. She didn’t know I had spent weeks studying every angle, every potential attack. And Nico, of course, had reminded me that the smallest misstep would give her leverage—but I was prepared.By nine-thirty, I was already at the press conference room, my laptop open and my briefing prepared. Nico stayed near the entrance, arms crossed, a silent anchor as the first journalists began filing in. My pulse was steady, my demeanor calm, b