The Mafia King’s Queen のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 131 - チャプター 140

FiorellaThe scent of fresh paint still lingered in the east wing, sweet and subtle, victory's aftertaste. Sunlight streamed through the new glass panels, catching the subtle glow of the marble floors as workers packed up their tools and left.I stood in the center of the hall, arms crossed, staring at what weeks of planning, sleepless nights, and sheer determination had brought back to life. Each part of the rebuild was perfect, stronger, more secure than it had ever been before. The last trace of the estate that was a testament to Phillipe's destruction was gone, erased, replaced by my determination.Leo greeted me at the other end, clipboard in hand. "All sealed and reinforced. Security's tightened around the new wing. No blind spots, no openings. Even a fly would be scanned coming in."I smiled faintly. "Good. Let's keep it that way."He nodded, his tone softening. "You sure you don't need to rest, boss? You've been at this since morning.""I'm fine." I exhaled, staring down the

FiorellaRocco hadn't said much when we woke up. He'd kissed my forehead, lingered a beat too long, then disappeared into the morning calls with his brothers. His eyes had been pinched, haunted in a way I hadn't seen in months.Something was wrong.And I knew better than to push before he was ready to talk.I had enough chaos of my own to manage.The east wing reconstruction had been completed. The last crew had left the night before, leaving the halls to a clean slate, a restoration covering over the embers of what had once burned there. But rebuilding walls wasn't difficult. Rebuilding trust and authority in our world? That took more than stone and paint.I had on fitted black slacks and a freshly laundered white blouse, hair pulled back in a low knot, minimal jewelry.Leo was already in the sitting room when I descended the grand staircase. His jacket was open, sleeves rolled high above his elbows, dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept either, by the looks of it."You're ear

FiorellaEverything was calm and good. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that something else was coming. Something low-key.My phone had been ringing with encrypted messages all week , soft chirps from untraceable numbers. The last one contained only one letter. N.At first, I'd thought nothing of it though ot bothered me. But then another message appeared yesterday morning, short, sharp, deliberate."You'll know soon."And then, sitting at my desk by the garden, staring at my phone, I couldn't help but replay the strange shiver that went up through me every time I read it.The letter was a presence. A sign-off from someone who already knew me."Fiorella?"Leo's voice pulled me back from my trance. He entered, jacket over his shoulder, coffee in hand. "You're up early again. Didn't Rocco tell you to take it easy?"I scowled at him. "Since when do I ever listen to that?"He smiled, plopping down into the chair across from mine. "Never. And that's what keeps me awake."I leaned ba

Fiorella The city outside Rocco's penthouse felt softer at night , as if the strife of the day dissolved to turn soft and tender once illuminated by the glow of streetlamps. Outside the glass wall, the skyline sparkled like a living painting. The hum of cars down there, distant and muffled.I sat cramped on the couch, one of Rocco's massive shirts swallowing me up, my legs bare and tucked up under me. The slightest scent of him, smoke, leather, and dark warmth, lingered in the fabric, and it was comforting.The TV showed a movie neither of us was really watching. Something sentimental, ironically enough. The characters on the screen fought, their lips nipping, their pain too real. But here, with Rocco's arm slung over my shoulders and his thumb drawing slow circles down my arm, the world stood still.His skin was heat and strength against mine, the rhythm of his chest rising and falling holding me steady. My face against him, my fingers tracing the path of his veins on his forearm a

FiorellaIt had been two days since Rocco started acting strange again, more distant, more alert, as though shadows had begun whispering to him. He hadn’t said much, only that he had things to “check out.” The look in his eyes had told me the rest.Whatever it was, it was dangerous.And for the first time in a long while, I didn't press.I'd learned that silence could be its own kind of weapon.It was a little earlier than usual that the mansion started to buzz. Men were unloading crates near the south lot, their boots heavy against the concrete, voices low and brisk. Leo stood among them-his head bent over the manifests. I spotted him from the terrace and made my way down.The sharp scent of oil and steel filled the air as I reached the loading dock. Leo looked up, offering a half-smile that didn't quite touch his eyes.“Morning, boss.” he greeted. “You’re early.”I gave a small shrug, scanning the new shipment. The crates were stamped with the De Luca emblem, neat rows of polished r