My Baby Daddy Is Don Pero のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Fireworks burst across the night sky, painting it with gold, red, silver and many other colors alike. From the deck of the cruise ship, they resembled embroidery stitched into the dark fabric of the heavens. This was the display of wealth in action. Elaine Colton stood still for a moment, watching the scene in awe. In all her twenty-eight years of living, this was her first time stepping foot on a cruise ship. And not just any cruise ship. This was the De Ferose Luxury Cruise, owned by the powerful Ferose family of Sicily. A name that carried weight. A name that made people lower their voices. The ship had been the hottest topic for months. Access tickets were limited and strictly controlled. Only the wealthiest one percent were invited. Rumors said people had to destroy friendships, families, and even lives, just to secure a spot. One story claimed a politician had been murdered in cold blood weeks before the grand opening, all because of the exclusive access card. Whether it

Elaine woke up slowly, eye lids trembling slightly. Her head seriously ached from the hangover and she immediately felt nauseous. But she held back the strong urge to suddenly turn over and throw up. The first thing she noticed was the silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the kind that felt too expensive, too controlled. The air smelled different. Clean. Masculine. Heavy. And her heart skipped a beat. She sat up abruptly. The room was enormous. Dark wood. Thick curtains. Gold accents that caught the early morning light. A bed far too large to belong to a normal guest. Satin sheets tangled around her legs, cool against her skin. And then she saw him. He stood at the far end of the room, tall and unmoving, a phone pressed to his ear. He was naked beneath an expensive black robe, loosely tied, revealing a powerful chest and a body sculpted with perfect authority. He faced the wide glass wall, overlooking the vast blue stretch of the sea and the cruise ship below, guests strolling,

Elaine’s apartment smelled faintly of stale coffee and lavender air freshener, a combination that should have been comforting but only pressed down on her chest like a lead weight. She sat on the edge of her bed, bare feet dangling above the carpet, staring at the gray ceiling as if it could offer her answers. It didn’t. The room felt smaller somehow, the walls creeping closer with each thought that passed through her mind. The night on the cruise ship played on repeat behind her eyes: the dim, golden glow of the cabin, the laughter that had felt so free and so dangerous at the same time, the man with the face she couldn’t forget. She had come back home thinking she could sweep it all under the rug, pretend it had never happened. But now, after two weeks of restless sleep and constant clubbing with Theresa, she realized that pretending wasn’t working. Her phone buzzed again, making her jump. She had left it on the nightstand, barely noticing the light blinking. But this time, it wasn

Castelbianco had never seen a car like that before. It slid through the narrow mountain road just before noon—black, polished, silent. Not a delivery van, a farmer’s truck, nor a tourist’s rental Fiat. It didn’t belong, as it stood out among the quaint stone buildings, the cobbled streets, and the olive groves peeking from every corner. Its movement was deliberate, careful, almost predatory, and the engine whispered rather than growled. Old men sitting outside the café paused mid-conversation, squinting. A woman bent over her geraniums froze, watering can halfway to the ground. The car circled the square once, its tinted windows hiding whoever sat inside. Then it slid toward the outer road, as silently as it had arrived, leaving an unsettling calm in its wake. Inside the small stone library, Elaine was kneeling on the children’s rug, helping Luca and two other children arrange wooden alphabet blocks. The air smelled faintly of old paper, ink, and the faint hint of Luca’s snack from e

Weeks later, Castelbianco remained as picturesque as a painting no one dared touch. Olive groves stretched lazily toward the hills, their silver-green leaves shimmering beneath the late afternoon sun. Terracotta rooftops glowed warm gold, and church bells rang softly at noon, drifting across cobbled streets where children ran laughing after worn soccer balls. The air smelled of fresh bread and rosemary, and life moved slowly here—predictably, safely. Elaine clung to that predictability like oxygen. Every morning, she woke before dawn. Not because she had to, but because she could not sleep past it. The silence at that hour felt heavy, almost sacred. She would lie still in bed, listening to Luca’s soft breathing from the small room beside hers. Sometimes she rose quietly, just to check on him. Three years old now, sprawled across the bed with blankets twisted and curls falling over his forehead, he was strong, healthy, and blissfully unaware of the world that had once chased his mother