Phantom Syndicate: Undercover Wife To The Mafia Trillionaire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Third Person’s Point of View When Geraldine left the dining hall, Mike’s eyes drifted back to the plate set before him. It was not like the other dishes he had been served countless times. Those had been imported from prestigious kitchens abroad, prepared by professional chefs, yet they had always failed to stir his appetite. No matter how carefully plated or expensive the ingredients were, the food never tasted right to him. He had grown used to forcing a few spoonfuls into his mouth only to satisfy hunger enough to keep him functioning. Nothing more. But this morning, something felt different. The one who had prepared the meal was not a famous chef but a peculiar maid, a woman who had introduced her dish with dramatic flair and called it her “special omelet.” He could still recall how she spoke with such confidence, explaining every ingredient as though it were the most important creation in the world. Her antics had almost made him smile. Almost. Shaking his head, Mike picke

Geraldine’s Point of ViewSweat dripped down my forehead as I crouched beneath the cabinet, sweeping away years of dust and cobwebs. Tiny insects scattered across the grimy floor, sending a shiver down my spine. My lips curled into a grin as an idea sparked.Slipping on a pair of gloves and securing a mask over my face, I reached for the can of pesticide sitting in the corner. I studied the can in my hand, and slowly, my smile twisted into something darker—something you’d expect from a villain in a movie.“You don’t deserve to live here, freeloading like this without paying rent,” I whispered, glaring at the insects scurrying for their lives. “This is the end for all of you. Because you’re nothing but pests!”I pressed the nozzle and sprayed with deliberate satisfaction, watching as the cockroaches and ants twitched helplessly. My grin widened as they weakened, their tiny bodies curling until they finally stopped moving.“Hmmph. This is exactly what should be done to those who are use

Geraldine’s Point of ViewMy eyes lingered on the bowl of soup sitting on the table, then shifted toward Mike. I exhaled deeply, the weight of what I knew pressing down on me.“How did you find out there was something in there?” I asked calmly. My voice was soft, but it drew everyone’s attention toward me. Their eyes filled with suspicion, as if I was already plotting something dangerous.“G-Girlie… are you planning something?!” Sister Cooker’s voice trembled with disbelief.I tilted my head toward her, feigning innocence. “Do you really think I’m planning something, Sister?”She froze, staring into my eyes, searching for the truth. Silence fell between us, thick and heavy.“We… we don’t know,” she whispered at last.I lowered my gaze, then turned back to Mike. His sharp eyes never left me, watching me closely, as though he had already read my every thought.“Master…”Before I could react, he suddenly reached for the soup. In one swift motion, he lifted the bowl to his lips and drank

Geraldine’s Point of ViewI woke to unfamiliar ceiling lights and the soft rustle of sheets. For a moment I lay still, the edges of sleep clinging to me, then a frown formed as I realized I was in a room I did not know. My hand went instinctively to my leg and I felt the rough pressure of a bandage. The fabric of the blanket slipped through my fingers.“This blanket is so soft,” I murmured before I remembered nothing about how I got here.I pushed myself up. Pain flared—sharp and surprising—along the back of my leg. I glanced down. The bandage was neat and clean. Confusion tightened my chest. How did I end up in such a nice room? Whose bedroom was this?Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Alert now, I grabbed the pillow at my side as if it could be used like a shield. I prepared to throw it at whoever opened the door. The motion stopped halfway when I saw his face.Mike stood in the doorway, brows drawn in a crease that made his whole face look severe. He had a tray in his hands. My hea

Geraldine’s Point of ViewI immediately let go of Rafayel’s hand, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. Wow, even his name sounded angelic, and it matched his face so perfectly.But then, there was the exception standing right in front of me. Michael. His name might carry the sound of an archangel, but his attitude was anything but divine. Tsk.“Michael,” Rafayel greeted warmly, flashing a brilliant smile. I swore that smile could land him a toothpaste commercial any day.Michael’s gaze darted straight to our hands, his expression hardening. “What’s going on here? Why were you holding her hand?”My pulse raced. Before I could think of an excuse, Michael had already closed the distance between us. One second he was in front of Rafayel, the next he was suddenly beside me, and I found myself stepping back until I was nearly behind him.“Ah, she almost fell earlier when…” Rafayel began, but I quickly signaled him not to tell the whole truth—that I had just slid down the stairs like a carele