His Regret: Rise Of The Boss Lady のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

****Megan’s POV****Something still felt off.Kai showing up at my place unannounced wasn’t strange. He did that all the time. What unsettled me was the way he did it. The way he looked so serious and pissed. The way his eyes scanned my surroundings like he was calculating exits instead of admiring the view.And then the way he spoke.Not a suggestion but an order—That I resumed intense training.It wasn’t that I disagreed with him. Training was long overdue. Hell, I’d been thinking about it myself. But the way it came off his lips—wasn’t like the Kai I knew.This wasn’t the man who teased me during drills.This wasn’t the man who laughed when I knocked him flat during sparring.This wasn’t the man who usually softened his commands with humor or concern.This Kai was… different.He noticed my stare almost immediately.That’s what unsettled me even more.He flashed a bright smile, sudden and forced, like he’d remembered to put it on. His fingers reached out and pinched my cheek lightl

****Kai’s POV****The last time I stood in Don Julian’s presence, I was still learning how to survive him.Back then, survival didn’t mean strength. It didn’t mean power or confidence. Survival meant obedience. It meant knowing when to lower your eyes, when to keep quiet, when to accept orders without asking questions. It meant swallowing pride.Back then, I was his weapon and now I was no longer that.Today, I was his rival.That truth weighed me down as I drove toward his estate, not like fear, but like restraint. Meeting Don Julian was never something one did lightly.Every step, every word, every silence mattered. One wrong move could cost more than your life—it could cost everything you’d built.That was why I avoided him after returning to the state.I laid low.Moved quietly.Not because I was afraid of him—but because I understood him too well.Don Julian was not a man you rushed. He was a fox. Cunning. Patient. He let men destroy themselves while he waited comfortably in the

****Megan’s POV****I steered my car down the hidden trails of the road as I made my way back home with a smile on my face.A smile I didn’t even realize was that broad until I caught myself.For years, as my foster father's adopted daughter, I had never once questioned his orders—not even for things that felt wrong. He was feared and revered by all because of how ruthless he could be.Whatever command he barked, I followed without complaint, and that sent me down a painful memory lane.I was adopted first when my supposed foster parents couldn’t have a child. They waited six years without one, and that was when they considered adoption.I was loved—briefly—but then, about two years later, she got pregnant and gave birth to Miranda, then the twins, Ashley and Harley. That was when everything changed.For fuck’s sake, I didn’t ask to be adopted—but yeah, I got to be mistreated for daring to be in their household.My foster father—I’ll call him Luca from now on—never missed a day remind

Joe’s POV“You know, pacing and getting all mad never solves anything?” Carl chuckled, puffing on his cigarette as he leaned back against the leather couch, his eyes following my every step as I moved restlessly around my office.The sound of his voice grated on my nerves. I ignored him because I knew damn well what he was going to say even before he opened his mouth. Talking to Carl when I was like this only made things worse, and right now, worse was not something I could afford.I stopped by the window, staring down at the city lights below. This city was mine. Every street, every underground deal, every whisper of fear—it all answered to my name. Or at least, it used to.“You need to accept the truth, Joe,” Carl continued, undeterred. “Unfortunately, I’d have to agree with the Don this time. Your father is right in every sense.”I turned sharply, my glare sharp enough to cut. Carl only raised his hands in mock surrender, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.“Easy there, tiger,” he sai

Megan’s POVThe boy could not have been more than twenty-five.That was the first thing I noticed as he stood in front of me, shoulders hunched, fingers trembling as he extended a brown envelope in my direction like it weighed a hundred pounds. Sweat clung to his hairline despite the cool atmosphere, and his eyes darted left and right, scanning the narrow alley as though expecting death itself to step out of the shadows.I did not take the envelope immediately.Instead, I studied him.Fear had many faces. I had seen them all. This one was raw, unfiltered—the kind that lived deep in the bones and refused to be reasoned with.We were standing in one of the older backstreets behind Foxglove Camp, far from the noise of the city. The buildings around us were abandoned, walls layered with peeling paint and old graffiti, the kind of place people came to disappear—or be erased.“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said calmly, folding my arms across my chest.He swallowed hard.“I—I did wha