The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

(Livia’s POV)I pack my bags while Alexander is fourteen hours away in China, fighting a business war I told him he didn’t have to fight alone.It’s the same suitcase I dragged into this penthouse the night I became Mrs. Kane, barefoot, mascara-streaked, heart shredded into ribbons by Theo’s public kiss an eternity ago.I do it like I’m cutting out my own heart with a dull knife.One item at a time.The jeans that still button (barely). The loose cashmere sweaters I bought myself in secret, not the ones his stylist sent in monogrammed boxes. The ultrasound photos I’ve hidden in the bottom drawer like contraband. The first white rose he ever left me after we married, pressed flat between pages of a book I swore I’d never open again.My hands shake so badly I have to sit on the bedroom floor to fold things.The penthouse is a tomb.No low thunder of his voice on calls. No classical strings drifting from the study. No clink of ice in scotch as he unwinds. No fresh white rose on my pillow

(Livia’s POV)The call comes at 2:07 a.m.I’m half-asleep, curled on my side with the mountain of pillows Alexander arranged to support the belly, his arm draped heavily over me like a shield. My baby is quiet tonight, finally, after hours of hiccups that had us both laughing softly in the dark.The burner phone on the nightstand, my old one, the number only a handful of people have vibrates once, twice then three times.Alexander stirs immediately, instincts sharper than sleep.I reach for it before he can. The screen shows an unknown number.I answer.Theo’s voice slithers through the line, thick with whiskey and desperation.“If you want to see your mother again, come alone. Warehouse on Pier 96. No Kane. No cops. One hour.”The line goes dead.Ice floods my veins.Alexander is already sitting up, face carved from stone in the dim glow of the city through the windows.“He has my mother,” I say. My voice doesn’t shake. It’s flat and deadly.He’s moving before I finish the sentence,

Livia’s POVThe morning begins with the soft glow of dawn slipping through the heavy curtains of Alexander’s bedroom, casting long golden threads across the black silk sheets that still carry the warmth of our bodies from the night before, the scent of him lingering on my skin like a quiet promise.I wake slowly, the way one does when the world outside hasn’t yet intruded, when the only reality is the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back and the protective weight of his arm draped over my waist, hand resting on the curve of my bump as if even in sleep he is guarding what we have built together, what we have only just begun to name.The baby kicks gently, a small, insistent flutter that feels like a quiet greeting, a reminder that we are not alone in this bed, that there is a third heart beating between us, and I smile into the pillow, feeling Alexander’s breath stir the fine hairs at the nape of my neck with each slow exhale.He stirs behind me, arm tightening for a secon

(Livia’s POV)I’m still on hospital bed rest when the papers arrive.A process server in an ill-fitting suit manages to charm (or bribe) his way past the private security Alexander stationed outside my door. He hands the envelope to a furious nurse, who then hands it to Alexander with an apologetic shrug. Alexander’s face goes arctic as he slices it open with one finger.I know what it is before he even speaks.Theo is suing for paternity testing and joint custody. Before Sandra is even born.Alexander reads the filing twice, jaw locked so tight I swear I hear enamel crack. Then he folds the pages with deliberate calm, slides them back into the envelope, and sets it on the rolling tray table like it’s radioactive.“He’s bluffing,” I say immediately. My voice sounds steadier than I feel.Alexander doesn’t answer right away. He’s staring at the envelope the way he used to stare at hostile takeover documents, like he’s already calculating how many pieces to tear it into.“He’s desperate,

(Livia’s POV)Alexander has been gone for fifty-one hours and thirty-seven minutes.I know because I’ve checked the clock every time I wake up, which is often. The penthouse feels cavernous without him: too quiet, too still, too full of echoes. Even the city lights through the windows seem dimmer, like they know he’s halfway across the world putting out fires he shouldn’t have to fight alone.The trip was unavoidable. The Osaka deal, a $4.2 billion acquisition that would solidify Kane Industries’ dominance in Asian markets hit a last-minute snag. A rogue board member leaked confidential terms to a rival, regulators started circling, and the Japanese side demanded Alexander’s physical presence to “restore trust.” He spent hours on calls trying to salvage it remotely, pacing the study in sweatpants, voice lethal and controlled. I sat on the couch with my feet up, watching him dismantle objections one by one.But in the end, tradition won. They wanted the man himself at the table.He cam