The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious.Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild.But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took.At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses.I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted.Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna."I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian."Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn'

Three days later, the Poseidon, the South's most luxurious seaside casino hotel, was a glittering spectacle of light and champagne.This was Rocco's victory gala, an event to divide the spoils of war.Tonight, the balance of power in Southmi's underworld would be redrawn.I wasn't here to fight for everything, but I had to claim my share.It was the price for five years of my youth.I had changed into a deep-V silver sequin gown, slit to the top of my thigh.Facing the full-length mirror, I gave myself a sharp, smoky eye and painted my lips the brightest shade of red.The Rosalie who always kept her head down was dead.In her place stood the Thorn Principessa of the Thorne family.As I pushed open the two heavy, gilded doors of the banquet hall, Rocco was lounging in the high-backed chair at the head table, swirling a glass of champagne.Vivian was pressed against his side, her tight red dress accentuating her exaggerated curves.As I approached, a newly promoted Capo, eager to move up

Rocco sank to the floor, the phone slipping from his grasp as the world fell away.Three days after I returned to the North, Julian dragged me out of my room."Don't just mope around, my Principessa. Come on, I'm taking you somewhere."He took me to a famous underground club.The heavy metal music pounded like a hammer, and the air was thick with the decadent scent of alcohol and perfume.I swirled a glass of tequila. My barely-there black sequin dress caught the light of the disco ball.My makeup was sharp and aggressive: blood-red lips and smoky, winged eyeliner that formed a seductive cat-eye.I imagined Rocco's frown, the disgusted look in his eyes he'd give me before telling me to go back and change.But this was the real me, Rosalie Thorne, the Thorn Principessa, who never had to dull her edges for anyone.Just like now. Julian had booked us the prime circular booth in the center of the club. Across from me, a male model, barely twenty, was blushing as he stared at my collarbone

The cold northern wind sliced across my face, mixing with the metallic tang of blood, and finally brought some clarity back to Rocco.But Julian's words were replaying in his mind.The words sawed at his nerves, a rusty blade dragged over them again and again."For you, she had the tattoo lasered off without anesthetic.""For you, she played the invisible woman for five years to make way for your useless little sister."Rocco sat on a curb, his hands shaking so badly it took him three tries with his expensive custom lighter to get a flame."Thorne."The name was like a brand on his tongue.A dry, bitter laugh escaped him, splitting the cut on his lip.How could she be a Thorne? The Thornes, the most bloodthirsty family in the North?He thought back to the leaky apartment five years ago, to Rosalie in a cheap, pilling nightgown, cooking him instant pasta in that moldy room.He'd given her a necklace that cost a few hundred dollars, money he'd saved for a long time. She'd held that simp

The surgery at the Thorne family's private medical center lasted four hours.I sat on a bench outside the operating room the entire time, Julian's blood still on my clothes, now dried to a dark brown.My father came, tried to take me home to rest, but I sent him away with a single, sharp sentence.Julian's parents came. They wanted to wait with me, but a single glare was enough to send them away.I didn't want to see anyone. I just wanted to be alone with him.The red light above the operating room finally went out.The lead surgeon walked out, removing his mask, his face etched with exhaustion."The surgery was a success. We removed the bullet. It didn't hit any vital organs."I stood up, my legs weak. "When will he wake up?""He lost a lot of blood. He'll be unconscious for a while. You should get some rest, too. You've been here for so long...""I'm not leaving."I pushed past him and went straight into the private room.Julian lay on the white bed, his face as pale as the sheets.H