Semua Bab Phantom Syndicate: Undercover Wife To The Mafia Trillionaire: Bab 51 - Bab 60

Geraldine’s Point of ViewThere was nothing unusual about his room. No hidden doors, no secret compartments—at least none that I could see. But I knew there had to be something he was keeping from me. Why else would this place feel so… sterile?As I scanned the space, I carefully set up tiny surveillance cameras and audio devices in discreet corners. If Mike ever received a sudden call, I wanted to know. At least then, I wouldn’t always be left guessing.When I crouched down to check under his bed, I caught sight of something odd—like a small object glued against the frame.“What is that?” I whispered to myself, sliding lower, trying to reach for it.But before I could touch it, the door suddenly swung open. The impact startled me so much that my head slammed against the steel bar beneath the bed.“What are you doing?”My blood ran cold at the sound of his voice. Mike. How had I not heard his footsteps?I froze, still half under the bed. Slowly, I turned to look at him, forcing a shee

Geraldine’s Point of ViewWe had been parked at the airport for only ten minutes, but the silence inside the car was deafening.I glanced at him. Mike’s eyes were glued to his phone while I sat sulking against the window. I didn’t even have a phone with me—he thought I was poor, remember? A pitiful disguise, but it worked.“Uhmm, hubby,” I whispered, breaking the silence.His head lifted slightly. “What is it?”“Can I step outside for a bit? You know I can’t stay inside cars too long. I need some fresh air.”He arched a brow. “You don’t like the scent of my car?”My eyes went wide. “No, no—it’s just, you know I get sick in cars, especially with the air-conditioning.”He sighed heavily and signaled to his bodyguards. “Go.”A smile escaped me as one of them opened the door for me. The air outside felt like freedom. Honestly, it wasn’t motion sickness—it was the awkwardness of being trapped alone with him.I glanced at the guards, who had suddenly gone alert, scanning the surroundings as

Geraldine’s Point of ViewBy the time we reached the mansion, my head was still spinning. I kept reminding myself that I needed to act perfectly—convincingly—especially now that his father was here. The very same man I had foolishly thought was just his older brother.Outside the car, maids and guards lined up neatly, waiting for their master and his wife to step out. I swallowed hard.“Are you ready? Don’t let anything show,” Mike whispered.“Yes,” I nodded quickly.He stepped out first, then turned and extended his hand toward me. I hesitated for a breath, then took it. There was no other choice. I followed his lead as the household bowed politely.“Let’s go, inside,” he said firmly.I glanced at his father, the resemblance between them undeniable. I flashed a sweet smile. “Okay, Daddy.”A ripple of surprise spread through the servants—and even his father blinked at me in disbelief. But instead of questioning me, he chuckled and gestured us in.We soon found ourselves gathered aroun

Geraldine’s Point of View“Wife, open the door.”My eyes widened at the sound of his voice, and before I could react, the door swung open. Mike stood there, gaze steady on me. I quickly lowered my phone, hiding it behind my side.“Why? Do you need something?” I asked, trying to sound casual.He stepped closer, his eyes flickering downward. I followed his gaze, realizing he was looking at me in my nightdress. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms across my chest, my brows furrowing.“Why are you staring?” I asked defensively.“Why did it take you so long to open the door?”“How could I answer right away? I was playing music on my phone while getting dressed.”Suspicion lingered in his expression as I held up my phone, pretending to prove my point. I tapped the screen, and to my horror, a sultry tune immediately filled the room.His eyes narrowed. “Oh, really?”My stomach dropped. I quickly shook my head. “I–I was just singing along, that’s all. Is that wrong?”“Careless Whisper, huh?”Waaa,

Geraldine’s Point of ViewI smiled warmly while watching them as they settled into their seats at the dining table. My heart was beating a little faster than usual, not because of nerves but because of how important this moment felt.“What have you been cooking, darling?” Mike’s father asked suddenly, his tone light but filled with genuine curiosity. His question surprised Mike himself, who immediately turned to stare at his father in mild disbelief.“Ehem… wait a second. The food hasn’t even been brought out yet,” I said, my voice almost a playful scold. I clapped my hands twice, and as if on cue, the helpers entered the dining room carrying the dishes I had prepared. One by one, they set down four steaming platters on the table and uncovered them, filling the air with the rich aromas of home-cooked food.“You made all of these?” Mike’s father asked in amazement, leaning slightly forward to inspect the spread.“Of course,” I answered with a soft smile. “I really love to cook. Someday