Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

“Good morning, Mr. Morano. You seem particularly cheerful today,” Grace said, her eyes twinkling as Leonard strode into the kitchen.He wasn’t just cheerful—he was practically glowing. A grin stretched across his face, wide and unrestrained, as though he couldn’t contain the news any longer.“Good morning, Grace!” Leonard greeted, his voice brimming with excitement. “Cheerful is an understatement. Sophia is pregnant, and I’m going to be a father!”Grace’s hands froze mid-motion over the cutting board. Her mouth fell open slightly, and for a moment she simply stared at him. Then her lips curved into a wide smile.“Congratulations, sir! That’s wonderful news. I’m sure Sophia is over the moon,” she said warmly.Leonard nodded, his grin never faltering. “She is. But I’m not taking any chances. I’m going to make sure she’s cared for in every possible way.” He stepped closer to the counter, lowering his voice slightly. “That’s actually why I came in here, Grace. I need your help.”“Of cours

PENTHOUSE - VICTORIA'S APARTMENT “We told you to stay away from us for the time being. What brought you here?” Victoria asked, puffing smoke into the air, her lips curling into a mocking smile. Conrad stood in the doorway, shoulders squared, though his insides twisted. He had practiced this confrontation in his head a hundred times, but the moment he saw them—Victoria lounging like a queen with her cigarette, Thelma sitting stiffly with those watchful eyes—his resolve nearly crumbled. “Victoria. Thelma,” he said, voice tight. “I need to talk to you about something important.” Victoria exhaled a thin stream of smoke, eyes gleaming with curiosity and annoyance. “What could possibly be so important that you had to risk showing your face here again?” “It’s about Sophia.” At the mention of the name, Thelma’s expression hardened. She shifted in her chair as though bracing for a storm. “What about her?” she asked flatly. Conrad took a step forward, ignoring the stench of cigarette smo

Sophia's POV I walked into the school, my heart thumping so hard I thought it might leap out of my chest. The corridors felt too narrow, the chatter of students echoing in my ears like distant thunder. I had been waiting for this meeting all day, rehearsing what I would say, but now that the moment was here, my palms were sweaty, and doubt clawed at me.Then I saw him.Conrad was sitting on a bench near the hallway, his posture tense, his eyes fixed on the floor as if he were lost in thought. When he noticed me, his head snapped up. His expression softened, though worry lingered in his eyes.“Conrad,” I greeted, trying to sound casual, though my voice cracked slightly.He stood up quickly, relief flickering across his face. “Sophia. Thanks for coming,” he said, his tone low, almost secretive.I forced a smile, even as unease coiled inside me. My eyes darted around the area instinctively, scanning the hall. Students passed by, but none of them paid us much attention. Still, I couldn’t

Victoria sat in her apartment, legs crossed elegantly on the leather sofa, a thin stream of smoke curling from the cigarette between her fingers. The city lights stretched beyond her window, tall buildings glittering like silent witnesses to her thoughts. She inhaled deeply, letting the taste of nicotine steady her nerves, then exhaled slowly, her lips curving into the faintest smile.Across from her, Thelma hunched over a chipped plate, shoveling scrambled eggs into her mouth with no grace at all. The room smelled of tobacco, cheap butter, and something metallic that lingered in the air like a warning.The shrill buzz of Victoria’s phone cut through the silence. She didn’t flinch. She stubbed out her cigarette in the crystal ashtray, lifted the phone, and pressed it to her ear. Her voice, calm and steady, betrayed none of the storm swirling inside her."Yes? Did you get their pictures?"On the other end, the cameraman’s voice carried a smug satisfaction. "The package has been deliver

Sophia’s POVI made my way to Julius Garden, my heart pounding in my chest like a war drum. The sky was painted with streaks of orange and pink as the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow across the city. Under any other circumstance, it might have been beautiful, but not tonight. Tonight, every step closer to the garden felt like I was walking into the lion’s den.“Please, stop here,” I told the driver, my voice sharper than I intended. He gave me a curious look in the rearview mirror but obeyed, pulling over midway before the gates.I didn’t want anyone else involved. This wasn’t a meeting where I could afford witnesses. My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone, my eyes drawn back to the message I had received earlier.Conrad’s picture.The image was still burned into my mind: his body bruised, blood streaking across his face like cruel paint, his shirt torn, his expression limp and lifeless. He looked like someone who had been tortured. And underneath the picture, the wor