CRY OR BETTER YET, BEG のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 171 - チャプター 180

The name cut through him like a blade. Even though Eugene had warned him what to expect, hearing her say it so tenderly still shook him. He couldn’t blink—his gaze stayed glued to hers. Her eyes were glassy, overflowing with emotion—joy, disbelief, relief. “I thought I’d lost you,” she breathed, reaching weakly toward him, her chained hand tugging at the bed rail. “I thought you were gone… forever. I asked the doctor about you—he said he had no idea who you are or where you were. Tell me I’m not dreaming.” Zayne finally blinked out of the shock that had left him speechless. “Is this your definition of a joke?” he asked coldly, casting a glare at the doctor. Eugene swallowed hard, stepping back slightly. “I was trying to tell you, my lord,” he said carefully. “She has… a special case of amnesia. Retrograde, with emotional fixation. Her mind—she’s confusing reality, attaching her memories of this particular person to you. She—” “Enough,” Zayne cut in. The doctor fell

“Good morning, Doctor,” Miren said, bowing slightly. “We’re sorry for the surprise. We just wanted to… visit Lady Aria. And we brought her this.” Stacy quickly added, “It’s safe! We even tasted it—see?” She pinched a bit from the side and popped it into her mouth nervously. Dr. Eugene looked between them and sighed. “Lord Zayne would frown upon this. But…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think she needs someone to talk to at least. If you want to see her, do it fast before he returns.” The maids exchanged glances—gratitude, fear, and excitement written all over their faces at once. “Thank you, Doctor!” they chorused. When Eugene left, they tiptoed toward the ward. The hallway was quiet, heavy with the faint scent of antiseptic and lavender oil. Then came the argument. “You knock on the door,” Selena whispered to Stacy. “No way! You do it!” said Stacy. "You already agreed that you are gonna to do it, Stacy. Why back down now?" Hannah said with a frown.

She blinked a few times, tilting her head like a child seeing something new. “Oh! Where are my manners!” she said and walked back to the table where she kept the cakes. “I forgot about your cakes.” She took a small cut with a fork from the vanilla cake and ate it. Her eyes immediately widened with delight. “Mmm! Oh, this is delicious!” She did the same for the chocolate. “This melts in my mouth and it's so… sweet. You guys really made this from scratch?” “Yes, my lady,” Miren said quietly, still unsure how to react to this playful, bubbly version of Lady Aria. Aria giggled, the sound bright and infectious. “You girls are so talented and bake well! I like that. And you all seem… nice too. Come join me. I can’t finish these cakes all alone.” She offered them huge slices she had cut out from the cake. Miren stepped forward first and took a piece. “Thanks, my lady.” Selena and Hannah followed, while Stacy stayed frozen, her eyes locked on Aria. Aria caught her

LOCATION: BLOODFANG HEADQUARTERS (Capital City) The conference room on the 47th floor overlooked the entire capital. A tall tower of shining glass walls, steel beams, and a massive black table where twelve dangerous mafia leaders from around the globe sat, each wearing the crest of the region they controlled. Documents, ledgers, maps, and blood-signed contracts littered the table. No one spoke over another. Except tonight. Tonight, they were already yelling, guns holstered beside their chairs as casually as wallets. “We lost four shipments this month — that’s sixty-two million gone!" Arkan, a member of the group, slammed a stack of printed spreadsheets on the table in anger. Numbers highlighted in red. Another one, named Bael, didn’t even look up from his tablet before replying to the furious one. “Maybe try hiring men who graduated primary school,” he said dryly. “Oh shut up,” Arkan snapped. “My division is the only one pulling its weight—” “Clearly not,” Bael

That night Aria was sleeping on her hospital bed, curled up on her side, with the blanket half-slipped from her shoulder. The room was quiet until her nose twitched softly. “...Titan? Is that you?” she murmured, still half-dreaming. Zayne froze. Her lashes fluttered open, and she caught him there—standing beside her bed, one hand hovering inches above her hair. She smiled, sleepily and warm. “I knew it was you,” she whispered. “You still smell the same.” Zayne’s chest tightened. It was on purpose, he thought. I used the same cologne Titan loved to wear. A stupid choice. A stupid reason to come here. What the hell am I doing here? Watching her sleep? Reaching to caress her hair? How could I have allowed her to affect me so much? Could it be the moment I almost gave up the ghost and she was the only thing I could think of? He clenched his jaw. Zayne’s entire convoy had been ambushed thirty minutes after leaving the meeting—an insider’s betrayal. He had foug