Contracted to the Mafia: A Plus-Size Bride のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

Author's Pov.Lucia was reading a book in her room, occasionally staring out the window with an empty feeling. Since what happened at the event yesterday, Alexandro hadn't spoken to her.At the main gate, a guard walked quickly toward Alexandro's study."Sir, there's a visitor. A man named Nathan. He's asking to see you."Alexandro, who was sitting behind his desk, raised an eyebrow. Nathan? The man who had made Lucia smile so freely yesterday. The unmarried man who used to be Lucia's neighbor back then. The man who had been unsettling him all day.Alexandro set down the pen in his hand, his eyes narrowing."Bring him in."He was curious. What kind of man dared to come to his house uninvited? Without fear? Did Nathan know who he was? Of course he did. Everyone in this city knew the De Luca name, yet this man still came.The guard nodded and turned away.A few minutes later, footsteps were heard in the hallway. Nathan entered with steady steps, without hesitation. A white long-sleeved

I didn't know what to do. My hands were trembling. My eyes were still wet. What I knew was that I had just told the truth, and it made him leave.A few minutes passed, and I was still standing in the same place when footsteps approached.Marco.He stood in the hallway, looking at me with his characteristic flat expression. Neat black suit, hair slicked back as usual."Madam," he greeted.I looked at him. "Marco, he left.""Yes, Madam. I know.""I was just being honest. He asked me to be honest, but he got angry."Marco paused for a moment, then walked closer, standing beside me at a respectful distance."Mr. Alexandro is like that. He is not accustomed to painful honesty.""What should I do?""Madam should apologize."I blinked. "Apologize? But I didn't...""I know Madam did nothing wrong, but Mr. Alexandro is not the type of man who can be approached with logic. He is angry because he is disappointed. Not because Madam lied, but because Madam is not happy."I fell silent."He feels t

We were soaking in the warm pool. I sat across from Alexandro, my back against the stone wall. My body was submerged up to my shoulders, my hair wet and clinging to my neck. Across from me, Alexandro sat casually, his arms stretched out along the edge of the pool, his broad chest captivating me.I couldn't stop looking at him. His chiseled face, his strong jaw, his dark eyes that were now staring at me. Water ran down his chest, over his flat stomach, along the fine line of hair that disappeared into the water. Handsome, so handsome. I knew it was wrong, knew I shouldn't keep staring at him like this, but my eyes seemed to have a will of their own.Until he raised an eyebrow.I quickly looked away. My head turned to the side, pretending to look at the candles lined up around the pool. My heart was pounding, my cheeks felt hot, and I knew it wasn't from the steam."Why did you come here?" Alexandro asked."I already told you. I came to apologize," I answered."Only to apologize?"I bit

He pulled me into his embrace. His still-damp body pressed against mine. His hands roamed my back, caressing, pressing, making me cling even closer to him. I could feel his heartbeat racing or perhaps it was my own.He lowered his head and kissed my neck. A hungry kiss that left wet traces on my skin. I bit my lip to hold back a moan."Bedroom," he whispered in my ear. "Now."He took my hand and led me up the stairs to the room on the upper floor. I followed, my legs trembling, but I didn't stop.The bedroom door opened. The room was dark, lit only by moonlight streaming through the large window. A bed with crisp white sheets, candles in the corners of the room, and the faint scent of lavender.He released my hand and stood before me with dark, lust-filled eyes."To the bed," he said. "Crawl."I knelt, then crawled toward the bed. Every movement felt like a dance he was watching from behind. I could feel his eyes on every curve of my body, on every sway of my hips.At the edge of the

Alexandro didn't leave.Throughout that morning, he sat in the chair beside my bed. Every now and then he would get up, walk to the window, look outside with his hands in his pockets, then sit back down. His hand still held mine, his fingers gently stroking the back of my hand.His phone rang several times. He answered in a low voice, spoke briefly, then hung up. Fragments of sentences I caught: "postpone the meeting", "handle it yourself", "I can't right now".Occasionally there was an irritated edge to his words, but he tried to hold back. His eyes would glance toward me from time to time, making sure I was still breathing.I lay still, staring at the ceiling, listening to his quiet voice, feeling the grip of his hand. There was guilt in my chest. He shouldn't be here. He should be at the office, handling business, doing the important things that had always been his world. Not sitting on an uncomfortable hospital chair, watching over a fat wife who fainted from a stupid diet.Around