The Mafia King’s Queen のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 151 - チャプター 160

The air was different inside the mansion.It wasn't loud or obvious, no sudden outbursts, no late-night arguments, but subtle, like a current beneath still water. A pause that wasn't there before when she kissed me good-bye. The way her eyes flicked to her phone before she met my gaze. The faint scent of gunpowder that clung to her jacket when she came in late and said she'd been "just running checks."Fiorella had always been driven, but lately, she was something else.Restless. Guarded.That morning, she'd left before the sun was up. I'd woken to the soft click of her heels, the whisper of the front door closing. I didn't stop her-because that's what trust was supposed to look like-but the empty space she left behind itched like a wound I couldn't see.By the time sunlight spilled through the window, I was in the study with Riccardo and Rafael. The map of our trade routes lay spread across the desk, all lines and markers and notes from the last shipment that Camillo's men had manage

RoccoThe night looks different when one has been betrayed.City lights blur past me as I drive, but I barely see them. My fingers are locked around the steering wheel like I'm trying to choke it, and honestly, maybe I am. It's the only thing within reach I can break without consequences.My chest is tight. Hot. Heavy. There's something inside it clawing to get out.I have been angry before, several times. Rage is not unfamiliar to me. But this?This is something darker.All I can think about is Fiorella's face-the way her lips shook, the way she couldn't look me in the eye until she forced herself to.The way she said sorry, like it was supposed to fix anything.I hit the steering wheel once with the heel of my palm-a sharp, violent thud that does absolutely nothing to ease the building pressure inside me.The tires hiss against the asphalt as I take a turn too fast.I shouldn't be driving.But I can't sit still. Not with this fire crawling up my spine. Not with the sick feeling sitt

RoccoThe house is too quiet.After Rafael leaves my office, I sit there in the dark for a long while, long enough for the silence to get under my skin. Long enough for Fiorella's face to appear every time I blink. Long enough for anger and guilt to mix into something thick and suffocating.I get up eventually. Cannot keep still.When I come back into the living room, Riccardo is sitting on the edge of the table, leg bouncing, eyes sharp and furious. Rafael stands near the bar, hands wrapped around a glass of whiskey he hasn't touched.They look up the moment they hear me.Riccardo's jaw ticks. "You’re calm now?"I level him a stare. "No."“Good,” he mutters, “because I’m still pissed.”Rafael gives him a warning glare, but Riccardo doesn’t look away from me.“You're too quiet,” he adds. “That's usually when things get dangerous.”I run a hand through my hair. "We deal with Nek. We get Mother De Luca back. Then.”“Then we decide what to do with Fiorella,” Riccardo concludes.My teeth

Rocco The pain in my hand throbs.Rafael sits beside me as the family doctor stitches the deeper cut. The needle digs into torn flesh, thread tightening with each pull. I keep my face still, my jaw locked, my breathing controlled.Pain is nothing new.But tonight, it carries a different weight, anger, betrayal, and the bitter taste of old memories stirred up by a ghost with a knife.The doctor finishes, wraps my hand in clean gauze, and leaves without so much as a word. Rafael stays, leaning back against the edge of my desk, watching me the way he watches loaded explosives, calm, calculating, expecting detonation.“You're lucky that cut wasn't deeper,” he says.I flex my wrapped hand and feel the pull of stitches. “Lucky isn’t the word I’d use.”His eyes narrow. “Did you at least hurt him?”My silence is enough answer.Rafael's jaw ticks, but he nods. "Good. He deserves worse."Before I can respond, the front door slams open, hard enough to shake the frame.Riccardo's voice is boomin

Rocco The phone buzzed against the mahogany of my desk, sharp enough to drag me out from the haze I didn't even know I was in. I looked down without enthusiasm, expecting yet another update from my men, another detail about Camillo, or perhaps another warning about Nek's machinations.But it wasn't any of that. It was her.Fiorella.Her name glowed softly on the screen, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop-just so I could stare.Rocco… are you okay? I… I miss you.The message tightened my chest in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I hadn’t had a moment to think about her, not really. Not fully. The past few weeks had been a nonstop whirlwind: Camillo’s return, the knife fight, Riccardo’s shooting, failed bomb attempts, Nek’s manipulations, the city threatening to tip into chaos around me. My focus had been survival, strategy, revenge, keeping my family and our operations intact.And here she was, reaching out, more vulnerable than anyone else could ever be.I set the phone down, lea