Scent of my mistress のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

The road to the house was busy as always, a restless stream of cars and headlights cutting through the night. Damian drove in silence, his jaw set tight, the muscles along his face pulled into a mask of fury that could crack at any second. His hands gripped the steering wheel as if it were the throat of his enemy. The engine roared with each acceleration, reflecting his barely suppressed rage.Lydia sat beside him, her posture composed but her mind whirling. She had grown used to the storms in her marriage, but tonight was different. The presence of Samuel had unsettled her, not because she feared him, but because she knew Damian had played a card she had not seen coming. That unpredictability made her uneasy. She kept her gaze on her phone, scrolling aimlessly as if the glow of the screen could shield her from the tension saturating the car.When she finally dared to glance at her husband, she caught his eyes in the faint reflection of the windshield. They were bloodshot, burning wit

The night was long and restless in the mansion. Though the house was quiet, silence did not mean peace. Damian lay on the edge of his bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with the weight of thoughts that refused to leave him. The whiskey he had downed earlier lingered on his tongue, its bitterness still clinging to the back of his throat. He turned onto his side and glanced at the door. It was closed, the light beneath it faint, a reminder that Lydia was in the adjoining room she often retreated to when storms grew too strong.He hated her absence, but he hated her presence even more tonight.His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Damian sat up slowly, suspicion flashing across his face. He reached for it and saw a message. It was from Samuel.She has left the hotel. I watched her. She is restless, broken, but not destroyed. Be careful, cousin. She is planning something.Damian stared at the screen. His hand tightened around the device. Ava. The name alone was

Damian’s POVThe rain hadn’t stopped. It had only softened,now falling in thin, silvery threads that shimmered against the windshield as Damian drove through the sleeping city. Streetlights passed in a blur, and his reflection in the glass looked like that of a stranger,eyes cold, expression unreadable.Samuel’s words wouldn’t leave his mind. “Maybe you should ask yourself why everyone keeps betraying you.”It was almost laughable,except it wasn’t. It was a wound, and the sting was too real to ignore.He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He had given Samuel a name, a position, a place under his roof. He had trusted him with silence and secrets. And Ava… Ava had always been his weakness.A sharp breath escaped him. The car’s interior smelled faintly of rain and leather,clean, controlled, unlike the chaos in his mind. He could still see her,Ava, sitting on that desk, her lips curled, her eyes mocking him with that familiar blend of confidence and sin.He almost smiled. Almost.B

Ava's POVI sank into the plush embrace of the soft chair, the cushions doing little to alleviate the crushing weight pressing down on me. My carefully constructed plans, the foundation of my perceived success, were crumbling before my eyes. A hollow ache resonated within me, a premonition of the devastation to come. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that if everything truly fell apart, I, and I alone, would be left to bear the wreckage.The casualties were piling up. First, the searing loss of Lydia, the woman whose absence had carved a permanent void in my life. Then, the betrayal of Damian, the man who had stolen her, and in the process, shattered my fragile sense of control and also having to change myself to seek revenge. And now, the entanglement with Samuel, a pawn I had foolishly taken up to navigate the twisted game I had created. Fear, that insidious serpent, had begun to coil around my heart, squeezing the air from my lungs. It was fear that had driven m

The anticipation leading up to the meeting at NEW age suites consumed me. I spent the day in a state of nervous energy, alternating between pacing the confines of my apartment and staring out the window, watching the city go by. Every rustle of leaves, every distant siren, sent a jolt of anxiety through me. I replayed every detail of my plan, examining the potential outcomes, preparing for every contingency. My sanity hinged on the execution of this plan, the success of this meeting.The hotel itself was a monument to opulence and discretion. Its dimly lit corridors, its hushed atmosphere, were the perfect setting for the clandestine meetings I envisioned. NEW age known for its privacy and its air of sophistication, was a place where secrets could be exchanged, where deals could be made, and where reputations could be forged or destroyed. Its luxury, however, was not the kind that brought comfort, as it mocked the fragile control I struggled to maintain.As the appointed hour drew ne