Teach me to desire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

Serena’s DiscoveryThe silence in my private study felt surgical, which was exactly how I liked it. Every item was in its proper place, the heavy drapes were drawn against the late afternoon sun, and the air conditioner hummed a steady, controlled background note. I was sitting at my desk, not working, but waiting. The last three days had been a slow, agonizing slide down the slippery slope of public humiliation, thanks entirely to Killian’s pathetic emotional absence at the Gala.I had always known Killian was complicated. He was like a finely tuned machine, perfect in function but prone to erratic surges if the pressure got too high. But his performance the other night wasn’t just stress; it was deliberate neglect. It was a calculated insult to me, Serena Vance, his partner in the most consequential deal of his life. He looked at me and saw a tedious duty, while clearly, some other commitment was absorbing all his vitality.He gave me a chance to find the source of his weakness. He

Eleanor's ConfrontationThe penthouse was a fortress of glass and steel, usually a place of calm calculation, but tonight it felt like a silent, waiting chamber. I was standing by the window, staring out at the dizzying grid of city lights, trying to run through the final check on Julian’s extraction plan. The tension was immense. Killian was at the pre-engagement event, performing the last dance before the music stopped forever. In just a few hours, I would walk away from this life.My heart was pounding, not with fear for the danger, but with overwhelming anticipation for freedom. I didn’t regret the choices, but the collateral damage was already mounting. I had caused a crisis for Killian, and now I was about to set fire to my marriage.The electronic lock on the front door clicked. It was Eleanor. She rarely arrived unannounced, and when she did, it was usually because a major deal was about to close or fall apart. I turned to face her, bracing myself.Eleanor walked in, immaculat

The Ticking ClockIgor's penthouse was high above the city, and usually, the height gave me a feeling of untouchable security. Tonight, as I closed the door behind me, the vast space felt exposed, like the control room of a ship that was about to sail straight into a hurricane. Every window felt like a lens focusing the city’s attention right onto us.Igor was waiting for me. He was standing by the large glass window, not working, just watching the city. He wore a simple, dark shirt, and the usual sharp control around his eyes was softened by a deep, worried concern that he only let me see.He didn't rush me. He let me drop my small duffel bag—the one containing the few non-traceable items I could risk taking from the mansion—and catch my breath. The silence was loud, filled with the unspoken weight of the next forty-eight hours.“Killian,” he said, finally turning to me. His voice was low, rough with unspoken tension. “You shouldn’t have come back to the house. It was too dangerous.”

Igor’s Business MovesThe light filtering through the penthouse windows was the cold, harsh gray of pre-dawn. The engagement party was tonight. That meant I had less than eighteen hours to finalize the total financial shield for Killian. I was in my private office, a space usually reserved for reviewing high-level corporate structures, but tonight, it was a command center for an emergency extraction.I sat at my desk, the glow of the screen reflecting in my eyes. I wasn't dealing with billions of dollars worth of mergers anymore; I was dealing with a single, urgent, life-saving transfer. The irony wasn't lost on me. I had spent my life building a fortress of wealth, only to use that power now to tear down another man's fortress and pull him out of the rubble.I feel no guilt about the money. Every cent used now is finally serving a purpose greater than profit. This is not a transaction; it is an investment in human life. Killian is walking into a public execution, and I must ensure th

Serena's Public SnubThe VIP reception room was a beautiful, suffocating trap. It was small and overly elegant, smelling of orchids and cold metal. Gold trim was everywhere, catching the light and reflecting the faces of the most powerful people in the city. The noise was a low, insistent hum of confidence and wealth. This was the final assembly before the main event, and I felt like a sacrificial lamb being decorated for the feast.I stood beside Serena, my body rigid inside the custom tuxedo. The time remaining was shrinking fast—maybe forty-five minutes until my father took the stage. Beneath the perfect white collar, I could feel a thin line of sweat tracing its way down my spine. The locket, Igor’s small, cool piece of metal, was the only thing connecting me to reality.Serena’s hand was resting on the small of my back. It looked like an affectionate, supportive gesture, but the pressure was constant, a possessive claim. It was her way of saying: You are mine until I decide you’r