The Mafia King and His Bride のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

* Lorenzo *The night of our fight finally starts. It pressed against the windshield, against the breath in my lungs, against the thin layer of reason I had tried to keep between myself and what my father called necessity.Marcial stood ahead of me on the road, his leather jacket open despite the cold, hands resting loosely at his sides as if he were admiring a view rather than preparing an execution. The valley below held the Brussel estate in a quiet cradle of trees—lamps burned in a few windows. A dog barked once and was abruptly silenced.He did not turn when I approached."You're late," he said, not as an accusation, simply an observation."I was not told there was urgency.""There is always urgency," he replied. "You just prefer to pretend otherwise. This matter is very important to Father."His voice held no heat. No mockery. That was what unsettled me. Cruelty, when emotional, could be argued with. He was aggressive and he is more determined than I am.Beside us, our men moved

* Lorenzo *The mansion got busy the following night, with father's eagerness to celebrate his success. He exhaled wealth. The news about our family expanding its territory spread to all our friends like wildfire. There is no fear even when everyone knows that there were killings involved.Music spilled from the grand hall in low, controlled waves. Crystal chimed as it glittered on the high ceiling. Laughter rose too loudly and died too quickly, like men reminding each other that they were alive and victorious because they had money and power.Father stood at the center of it all, exactly where he believed the world placed him. He was proud of us, his two sons.He did not raise his voice to command attention. He never needed to, now that everybody knows what he does to get what he wants. Conversations bent around him the way light bends around a blade.Marcial stood at his right side, immaculate in black, not a single shadow of what he had done clinging visibly to him. Only I knew the

* Miranda *I woke to the sound of my door. A firm knock. Not at my door. At the adjoining door that connected my room to the master's bedroom.For a moment I did not move. My mind surfaced slowly through layers of warmth and memory. My eyes flew open as I suddenly remembered Lorenzo sleeping next to me. Thankfully the space beside me was empty. Cold already.He had left. Relief came first, sharp and immediate, followed by something softer that hurt more than fear. The faint imprint on the pillow beside mine was the only proof. Another knock. Slower this time. Deliberate."Miranda."Salvatore's voice carried through the woods like a hand pressed against my throat. I sat up at once. My head ached faintly, wine lingering like a dull echo behind my eyes. The sheets slipped from my shoulders and pooled at my waist. The bed... was unmistakably disturbed. Creased. Warm. Lived in by two.I stood, smoothing the fabric of my nightdress, steadying my breath before unlocking the adjoining door.

* Miranda *I remained in the sitting room overlooking the eastern grounds, hands folded neatly on my lap, posture composed. The curtains breathed with the faintest wind. The mansion was quiet with Lorenzo and Salvatore occupied in business matters.Lorenzo had not returned yet. After last night, after the warmth of his presence beside me at dawn, the emptiness of the house pressed closer than before.It was late in the afternoon when I heard footsteps arrive before the man.Then the door of the study room opened without announcement.Salvatore entered as though the room had been holding itself upright until he returned to claim it. His coat was still on his shoulders, the scent of outside air clinging to him, metal, cold wind, power. His gaze found me immediately, not with surprise but with expectation fulfilled."You waited for me," he observed.It was not gratitude. It was confirmation of the order."I was told you would return this afternoon," I answered softly.He removed his coa

* Lorenzo *I left her by the window and the silence she wore like a second skin. But I felt her gaze follow me until I walked out the door.Because I have to leave, by nightfall the city had hardened into angles and glass. The meeting was arranged in a government annex that pretended not to exist, no name on the directory, no emblem on the door, only a receptionist who never looked directly at anyone who mattered.They led me to a room too clean to be comfortable. A steel table and only two chairs. A camera set high in the corner, unconcealed on purpose—honesty as intimidation.He entered the room. He looked much younger than I expected. With his precise movements in a dark suit worn not for power, but for discipline. His eyes catalogued everything before settling on me with quiet certainty. No handshake was offered. Without hostility either. Only assessment is shown in his eyes as well as mine."Mr. Salvatore's first son," he said. Not a question but a confirmation of my identity."