Sold To The Mafia Lord のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

The SUV hurtled down the road, tires chewing up pavement like the devil was at their heels.Emilia sat in the backseat, Lucien’s head in her lap, her hands trembling as she pressed down on the wound at his side. Blood soaked through her fingers, hot and terrifyingly endless. He was pale. Too pale. But his eyes were still open, barely.“Stay with me,” she whispered, brushing the matted strands of hair from his forehead. “Don’t you dare die, Lucien. Not now.”He didn’t speak. Just grunted, teeth clenched, his breathing ragged. His jaw was tight with pain, but he hadn’t made a sound since they’d pulled him off Catalina.Julio was in the front seat, barking orders into a burner phone. “Yes, now. The doc should already be waiting. No, we don’t go to the estate. Safe house. The one in Monteverde.”Emilia stared down at Lucien, but her mind was still back in that room.In the red silk.The blood.The sound of Catalina’s skull cracking against the stone wall.Lucien had become something else i

Emilia woke to the sound of rustling.For a moment, her mind was suspended somewhere between sleep and memory, caught between the image of Lucien covered in blood and the rasp of his voice when he fell to his knees.But then her eyes blinked open, and she saw him.Lucien.Standing by the closet, shirtless, the gauze at his side stained deep red. His movements were slower than usual, calculated and quiet, as he folded a black shirt and dropped it into an open duffel.He was packing.And he was doing it alone.Her heart leapt in her chest. “Lucien…”He turned instantly, eyes snapping to hers. That cold, sharp awareness in them was dulled now, but not gone. Pain clung to him like a shadow, but so did something else.Relief.“You’re awake,” he said.She sat up slowly, wincing as her joints screamed in protest. “You’re awake too. You’re bleeding. You should be resting.”“I’ve had worse.” He crossed the room in three long strides, crouching at the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”“Yes.” She

The jet was already waiting when they arrived.Private. Black. Dangerous, just like the man who would be flying it.Emilia stayed quiet as Lucien handed their bags to Julio, who gave only a slight nod before stepping back into the shadows. No one else knew where they were going. No guards. No goodbyes. Just silence, the kind that usually came before a storm.“You good?” Lucien asked, glancing at her as he opened the cabin door.She nodded once, lying. Her stomach was tight, her pulse jumpy. Not from fear. Not even from leaving. But because he was there. Close. Tense. Bleeding confidence even through his bandages and the weight of exhaustion hanging on him.Lucien climbed the steps first, and Emilia followed, eyes on the narrow curve of his back, the flex of his muscles beneath the black shirt. He shouldn’t be moving like that, not after taking a bullet. Not after nearly bleeding out.But Lucien Moretti didn’t believe in pain. Or weakness. Or limits.Inside, the jet was sleek, dimly lit

The jet sliced through the clouds, a silver ghost against the early dawn sky. Emilia sat by the window, one leg tucked beneath her, her gaze fixed on the blur of stars disappearing behind them. The world below felt distant, cities, enemies, names she’d only started to understand. They were above it now, suspended between where they’d been and whatever came next.Lucien sat in the pilot’s seat, silent and still, his hands steady on the controls. The hum of the engine filled the quiet space between them. Julio had seen them off on the tarmac like a soldier watching his commander march into exile. Only he knew where they were headed. And that was how Lucien wanted it.Emilia glanced at Lucien again. The bandage at his side was tight, blood just beginning to stain through. He should have been resting. But instead, he was flying.For her.The thought twisted something sharp and warm inside her chest.She didn’t speak until the jet leveled out and the light above the cockpit switched to auto

There was a strange kind of peace in the quiet.Far from the city. Far from the chaos. Far from the blood-stained memories that never seemed to leave her alone, even in dreams. Here, wrapped in the soft hum of silence and the occasional chirp of distant birds, Emilia found herself remembering how to breathe again.She liked it here.She spent her days reading in the sun-drenched corners of their temporary safe house, curled up in windowsills or stretched across the wooden porch with a book in her lap. The air smelled of pine and rain, fresh and untouched. There were no guards, no locked doors, no watchful eyes.Only Lucien.Or, at least, what was left of him.He slept a lot now. His body still healing. His mind even more so. At night, when the bruises on his ribs kept him from sleep, he whispered low conversations with Julio on encrypted calls. Emilia could hear them sometimes through the walls, strategy, names, whispers of new enemies, but the one name that never came up was hers.Thi