MAFIA BRIDE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

The moment he reached them, Luca's hand closed around Isabella’s wrist…not harshly, but firmly enough to make her lower the gun. With a gentle yet experienced motion, he pulled it out of her hand, and his jaw flexed dangerously as he turned to face the crowd.“What the hell is going on here?” His voice was so authoritative and cold that everyone froze where they were…No one dared to speak.Even Riccardo’s eyes were darting between Luca and Isabella, already piecing together enough to know that the next few minutes would be absolute carnage.The guard…the one who had slapped Isabella…straightened his shoulders with the same cocky arrogance, overconfidently misreading his boss.He scoffed, pointing a thumb at Isabella. “Don Luca, we had a little situation. The Lorenzo bitch…”Every head snapped toward him in horror.Riccardo’s face went pale, and two guards who were close by gasped audibly. Isabella didn’t move or react.Luca breathed calmly and remained silent, carefully noting the red

Gianna Vitale kept on pacing the length of her hotel room like a wounded wild animal. A wide window overlooked the busy Sicilian harbor, where ships were drifting in and out like silent conspirators. But at that moment, Gianna saw none of it. Her face was twisted with annoyance, and her usually steady hands were trembling with forced back violence. The report from her spy lay crumpled on her desk where she had thrown it minutes earlier, with its contents simple but devastating… Luca Moretti had left Rome. The Moretti heir…her target, her obsession, her unfinished business…was back in New York. Worse still, he had taken his pregnant ex wife with him. She groaned aloud in frustration. The audacity of the boy. Running home to hide under the shadow of his empire and shielding himself behind the city that bent its knee to him and his family. It infuriated her in ways she hadn’t felt in years. A soft knock on the door soon pulled her from her angry thoughts. “Enter,” she snapped. Rocco

When Isabella woke up the following morning, the sun had barely risen over Manhattan. She took a quick bath and grabbed a simple gown from her closet, then proceeded to head downstairs for breakfast. The scent of fresh pastries drifted from the dining hall, and despite her hunger, the aroma seemed to annoy her…because everything in this house was just too annoyingly perfect and serene. And worst of all, Luca had gone the extra mile to make sure everything was tailored to her comfort. When she got downstairs, the long dining table was already prepared to Luca’s standard…well ironed linens, silverware neatly arranged, and a curated display of fruits, pastries, and a chef prepared breakfast. She didn’t understand why a Mafia kingpin insisted on running his home like a five star luxury retreat, yet another detail she silently marveled about. Luca sat calmly at the head of the table, reading something on his phone, but he looked up as soon as he saw her, and his cold expression soften

Riccardo rushed in first when they arrived back at the mansion.Luca followed…slowly.A little too slowly.The strong and confident stride that defined him was gone, and his usual aura of dominance suddenly looked like a candle that was struggling to stay lit. Blood was still slowly flowing from his shoulder, spreading in a thick patch of his shirt that could not be overlooked.A maid carrying fresh linens froze instantly in the hallway, her eyes widening in horror as gasped.“D…Don Luca?”Before Riccardo could even bark orders, panic had broken loose.Servants scrambled in all directions to grab first aid supplies and napkins, while the surrounding guards who had been startled at the sight of their Don swaying and gripping his shoulder with visible strain, ran for whatever they thought might help. A few guards rushed toward them, with obvious fear on their faces because the sight of Luca Moretti injured was something they had never prepared for.He was the immovable pillar of this ho

Gianna was stretched out gracefully in a comfortable lounge, with one leg crossed over the other, and a glass of champagne in hand. Her expensive Turkish robe slid off one shoulder, revealing a glimpse of a woman who looked as if she had never known stress or urgency for a day in her life. The look on her face, as she looked lazily through a notebook, was one of pure calm. Or boredom. Probably both.That perfect serenity quickly vanished however when Rocco suddenly burst in without knocking, looking as if he had just woken from a terrible nightmare and was scared.“Donna,” he blurted out anxiously, panting as he spoke.Gianna didn’t even look up at him as she replied.“Rocco,” she drawled, turning a page. “You’re wrinkling the air with your panic.”He swallowed hard. “It’s… It’s Luca.”That got her attention finally, and she looked up slowly at him.“What about him?”Rocco moved closer to her and lowered his voice completely, as if he was afraid that somebody could be listening to the