THE DEVIL'S OBSESSION のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

[LATER THAT NIGHT]The game went on—more dares, more truths, more laughter—but Alessia’s smile was beginning to feel forced, like a fragile glass ready to shatter.Damon hadn’t looked at her in over twenty minutes. Not once. His focus was completely on Rachel—how he whispered in her ear, how she giggled like a teenage girl, how their hands brushed far too often to be innocent.Alessia couldn’t breathe. Her fingers curled into her dress beneath the table. She stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her gown. "I need to use the restroom," she said tightly to no one in particular and walked off.As she slipped past the crowd, she realized Damon had disappeared too. Her eyes scanned the room, and Rachel’s seat was now empty as well.Her heartbeat picked up.A gut feeling.Something dark. Something awful.She began walking faster, heels clicking against the marble floor, following the corridor leading to the back hallway of the grand villa where some of the guest rooms were.She paused.A so

[SOMEWHERE IN ROME]A young woman sat naked at the edge of a dimly lit room, the dull glow of a flickering lamp casting shadows across her skin. She took a slow drag from her cigarette, eyes fixed on the glowing screen in front of her. Smoke curled from her lips as she scrolled through the endless news updates, her expression unreadable.Her lips twisted into a bitter smirk as another headline flashed across the screen—Damon’s Affair Exposed. Engagement call-off confirmed.“It always comes full circle, doesn’t it?” she murmured, tapping the ash from her cigarette onto the worn wooden chair beneath her. “You found your way back to each other. Huh?”The air in the small apartment was thick—reeking of sweat, sex, and something darker. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor, mingled with empty bottles, used syringes, and an assortment of firearms. On the walls, dozens of photographs were pinned like a twisted detective board, connected with red strings, newspaper clippings, and

Dante Moretti was angry again.The Devil was angry again.And when the devil is angry, blood follows.He stood still—silent—shoulders squared, chest rising and falling like a man barely holding himself back from ruin.He couldn't believe what his ears heard from Alessia’s mouth.His eyes, once clouded with concern, were now burning coals. Dark. Unforgiving. Dangerous.The kind of stare that made grown men drop to their knees. The kind that whispered of violence without ever raising its voice.Caro took a step back. Matthew instinctively shielded her.But Alessia …Alessia couldn’t move.she was patiently waiting for his next action.Her breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with him, seeing something she hadn’t seen before —The Dangerous Dante.The cold, calculating monster that empires feared.“You wouldn't have hid this from me,” he said, voice low… too calm. “Not once have we been together. Not twice. Yet you hid this from me .”“Dante —” she gasped, crawling forward on h

The rain fell in torrents over the city of Rome, a relentless downpour that washed the streets clean of life.The roads were empty—eerily so. Except for her.There she sat on a weathered wooden bench by the roadside, completely alone, her figure trembling as the rain poured over her, soaking her skin, her clothes, her soul. Her face was buried in her hands, her sobs silent but wrenching, barely audible over the roar of the storm. Her hair clung to her cheeks, her clothes plastered to her shivering body.Even under the heavy rain, her skin looked ghostly pale, almost translucent.Alessia cried as if the rain could cleanse the pain from her heart, as if each teardrop could be rinsed away. But it didn’t. Nothing could.Dante hadn’t picked up her calls. Not one. It wasn’t until she used his father’s phone that he even acknowledged her existence.He had never been this angry with her. Never. Not even when they were working together—no matter the fight, Dante always came back within an hour

It wasn’t fate. It wasn’t timing.It was always bad circumstances surrounding her.She and Dante were split apart because of all of this. The reason she had to make an impossible decision that destroyed everything she had ever desired.Alessia hugged her knees close as she sat on the window bench, her gaze distant, fixed on the skyline. Her heart felt heavy, as if it had held too many secrets for too long.As much as Dante meant the world to her, so did her family. But they never understood. They never tried to.None of them knew the torment she endured the day she was forced into marrying Damon. The tears she shed silently, the therapy sessions she went through, the depression that slowly consumed her—and the horrifying night she lost her baby sister because of it all.She let out a long, shaky sigh.Her soul was distressed, fractured in too many places to count—but at least... she was here.In his home.In his room.She turned and looked around. Everything in the room whispered me