Married To A Monster のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

Lucien stared at the divorce papers like they were a death sentence.Zara’s signature bled across the last page, her handwriting trembling as if she’d cried through every word.He’d read the letter that came with it.“If you love me, let me go. Please. Don’t ask why.”He knew why.Vanessa.The pen felt heavy in his hand.He didn’t even remember signing. One second, he was staring at her name — the next, his own signature slashed through the paper like a wound.The room was silent except for the hum of his regret.And then — heels.Clicking across the marble floor, slow, deliberate, confident.Lucien didn’t need to look up to know who it was.“Still brooding over the ink, darling?” Vanessa’s voice was a velvet blade as she stepped in, her red dress hugging every curve, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. “You always were dramatic.”He exhaled hard, leaning back in his chair. “What do you want, Vanessa?”She ran a manicured finger along the papers. “A wedding. A big one.”Lucien’s gaze

The room in Lucien’s mansion felt smaller with the divorce papers folded and tucked into a drawer where no light reached. Outside, the city went through its restless night, indifferent; inside, the only things that moved were two people who had spent too long pretending they belonged on opposite sides of a war.They sat across from one another at the wide kitchen island—leftover takeout abandoned between them, coffee gone cold. Adrian had left minutes before, the plan spread in his wake like a thin map of roads they could take. He’d rattled off names and hiding places and supply chains the way surgeons list instruments, efficient and flat. The tone of the conversation had been clinical; the aftermath was not.Zara watched Lucien while he sipped his coffee, the hard line at his mouth softening only where the steam hit his face. The scar at his temple caught the light; his hand trembled just slightly as he set the mug down. She wanted to tell him how much she hated the sight of him now—

LUCIENHe stood before the mirror and tested the suit like it might betray him. Black, charcoal, midnight — each one a calculated lie. He tugged at a cuff, straightened a lapel, watched the man in the glass become what he had to be: measured, composed, photograph-ready.He has to go with this stupid wedding.He whispered it to himself like an incantation. To save Zara. To buy a life for someone he loved with a kind of stupid, dangerous clarity that had nothing to do with reason and everything to do with the savage, private law of men who keep their hearts in vaults and open them only to be looted. To save her mother. To save Adrian. To stop the red dot on a rooftop.He let the thought sit, allowed it to gather around him like a fog. It did not make him clean. It made him necessary. It made him a coward and a saint in the same breath.Vanessa watched from the chaise, unimpressed. “Charcoal,” she said. “Less theatrical. Save the drama for the chapel.”He tried the red tie she preferred.

ZARA’S POVSomething was off.She couldn’t explain it — it was instinct, that sixth sense you earn when you’ve lived too close to death for too long.The back of her neck prickled. Her chest tightened. Her eyes flicked toward the upper balcony — a flash of light, a glint that didn’t belong.A scope.She knew the feeling too well.Her hand slipped into Adrian’s. “Get up,” she whispered.“What?”“Now. Walk out. Slowly.”Adrian frowned. “Zara—”“Now,” she hissed, already rising.They walked out of the pew like guests stepping out for air. Calm. Unhurried.Every step felt like walking on a landmine.Vanessa noticed first. Her smile faltered. “Where does she think she’s going?”Lucien’s eyes widened slightly — not enough to expose the panic, but enough that Vanessa caught it.“Oh,” she said softly, turning to her earpiece. “Now.”The sniper exhaled, finger tightening on the trigger.But Zara didn’t stop walking — she turned sharply left instead, heading straight toward the front aisle, whe

The woods were cold, quiet, and too still.Zara pulled the blanket tighter around herself as she sat against the rough cabin wall. The place was old — abandoned except for the dust of secrets clinging to every corner — but it was safe. Safe enough.Adrian crouched by the dying fire, feeding it one stick at a time.“How long are we staying here?” he asked softly.“As long as it takes,” Zara whispered, rubbing her palms over her stomach.“As long as she’s hunting.”He nodded, eyes flicking to her belly for a brief second.“You’re doing the right thing. Keeping the baby away from all this.”Zara swallowed hard.“I don’t feel brave. I just… I feel like I’m running from everything.”Adrian sat beside her.“No. You’re protecting your child. And yourself. That’s not running. That’s survival.”Zara leaned her head back, staring at the cracked ceiling.Five days.Five days without Lucien.Five days without a phone, a message, a signal.Five days of fighting the urge to break down every hour.A