Mafia King’s Regret: Winning Rebellious Bride Back のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

“What the hell?” Lilith’s voice snapped through the room like a whip, sharp and laced with disgust.She yanked the belt of her red dress back over her shoulder, hastily fixing herself as she stepped away from Roman. Her lipstick was smudged, her curls wild from the heat of their moment.“Don’t you know what privacy means?” she hissed.But Vera didn’t look at her. She didn’t even seem to hear her. Her breath was shallow, her eyes wide, darting toward the window as if chasing something that had vanished. The lights were still dim, the shadows stretching long across the walls, wrapping the room in a heavy, uncomfortable silence. Roman stood, adjusting his robe in silence, jaw clenched. Vera turned on the lights. Lilith’s heels clicked sharply against the hardwood floor as she stormed closer, “I need to teach you a damn lesson,” she snarled, her arm rising swiftly in the air. But her hand never landed. Vera caught her wrist mid-air, her fingers wrapped around Lilith’s delicate wrist with

Vera collapsed to the floor, gasping, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The scarf was still tight around her neck, the burn of it fresh against her skin. She clutched it with shaking hands, eyes wide, her mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. Roman stood over her. His tall frame cast a shadow across her body, his eyes burning down on her with something dark, something unfinished. He wasn’t done. Before she could move, before she could even think of escape, his hand grabbed her forearm and yanked her up. She stumbled, her legs barely holding her weight. He didn’t care. He pulled her inside. The door slammed shut behind them. Files flew across the floor, papers scattering like fallen leaves. A pen holder clattered somewhere out of sight, the sound sharp in the silence. His laptop hit the carpet with a dull thud. The desk was now empty, cleared in seconds. Roman spun her around and shoved her back against it, forcing her to face him. The room was bare

SUVs rolled into the driveway one after another, their engines humming low like a warning. Vera sat quietly in the kitchen, nibbling at her food without much appetite.It surprised her—Roman never brought work home. In fact, he hated mixing his personal space with his business. But today felt different. Urgent. She peeked through the kitchen window when the sound of doors slamming caught her attention. A group of armed men stepped out, their movements sharp and disciplined.Among them, a tall man emerged, his long dark hair tied back. He wore a long black coat, his presence commanding without saying a word.Roman was already outside, walking toward him. Vera couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Roman’s posture told her everything—this man was important. Whoever he was, he carried an aura that made even Roman act differently. Less dismissive. More... respectful.Vera’s curiosity got the better of her. She quietly moved from one window to another, trying to get a better look. But fr

The funeral was over, but the weight of it remained. Vera sat alone on the edge of the garden wall outside the house. Her body was there, but her mind was still in that hospital room—still hearing her grandmother’s voice… Not Marco’s blood... brought by our daughter...The questions in her head wouldn’t stop.Who was she?Where did she come from?Why wouldn’t anyone tell her?A sudden movement beside her caught her attention. She turned her head just slightly and saw her brother, Adrian, walking toward her. He had taken off his blazer and carried two paper cups of coffee. The sight of him—rumpled shirt sleeves, slightly loosened tie, tired but warm expression—brought a small flicker of comfort to her chest.He handed her one of the cups without saying anything and sat down beside her. “Still hate coffee?” he asked lightly.Vera managed the smallest smile. “Still drink it when I don’t know what else to do.” Adrian leaned back, his eyes on the sky. “Yeah. Same.”They sat in silence for

Vera and Leila sat across from each other in a sleek, upscale diner perched on the top floor of the city’s busiest luxury mall. The place had a quiet, refined ambiance—soft jazz playing in the background, polished marble floors, crystal-clear windows offering a stunning city view, and sharply dressed patrons speaking in low, elegant tones.Vera leaned in a little and glanced around, her brows lifting as she lowered her voice. “Look at us,” she whispered with a small, awkward chuckle. “We walked in here like we were just stopping by for coffee on a lazy Sunday.”Leila looked down at her casual jeans and loose blouse, then met Vera’s eyes with an amused smile. “I know… I thought it would be a cozy little place. Not this... fashion runway disguised as a restaurant.”Vera adjusted the sleeves of her light sweater self-consciously. “Everyone here looks like they just stepped out of a business magazine. I mean, we didn’t even try—no heels, no makeup, nothing.”“We look like two interns who