Torn between mafias のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Rose POVThe knock on my door wasn’t friendly.
It was sharp, deliberate, like each rap carried a warning.I froze halfway between the kitchen and the hallway, my pulse kicking up before I even asked, “Who is it?”A pause. Then a low, familiar voice that curled in my chest like smoke.
“Rose.”Vicenzo.The sound of his name in my head was enough to turn my skin cold. I hadn’t seen him in weeks where I’d been trying to breathe without the weight of him on my neck, weeks where I thought maybe the distance would keep me safe.I opened the door just enough to see him.He was exactly the same, pressed black suit, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, dark hair slicked back like he’d walked out of a magazine and straight into trouble. His eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, before he stepped inside without asking.“You’ve been hard to reach,” he said, scanning my apartment as though he owned it.“I’ve been busy,” I replied, folding my arms.He turned toward me, one brow lifting. “Busy with wh

Luther POVI leaned back in my chair, letting the smoke curl from my cigar, slow and steady, like it owned the air in this room. Marco had just come in with the report, and I didn’t even glance at him when I spoke.“Release one.”He hesitated. I could hear it in his breathing, the doubt. “Release… one, boss?”“Yes.” I flicked ash into the tray, my voice sharp. “The weakest one. Make it look like he escaped while the others couldn’t. When Vicenzo asks, you’ll say he was smart enough to slip out.”Marco shifted, nervous. “But boss, that could make Vicenzo suspicious. He might torture the man for answers. He might—”“That’s the point.” I cut him off, finally locking eyes with him. “Suspicion. Doubt. Let him question his own men before he dares to question me. While he’s too busy tearing apart his house looking for rats, I’ll already have one planted inside.”Marco frowned, still cautious. “An insider? And what if the guy betrays us instead?”I chuckled, drawing in another drag of smoke

Vicenzo’s POVThe air in the study was heavy with the scent of Cuban cigars and aged leather, the kind of atmosphere that spoke of power, secrets, and men who never slept peacefully. I leaned back in my chair, fingers tapping against the polished mahogany desk as my eyes bored into David, my younger brother, who stood opposite me like a restless shadow.He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes refusing to meet mine, and already I knew what he was here for. David had never learned to look me in the eye when he wanted something. He was ashamed of needing me, but not enough to stay away.“So,” I said, my voice cutting through the silence, low and laced with disdain, “you finally come to me after months of pretending you want nothing to do with my business, my life, my empire. Yet here you are… standing in front of me, hands itching for the very thing you claim you despise. Money.”David’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer immediately. I almost laughed at the irony. He

Vicenzo’s POVAfter David left, silence stretched in the room. I leaned back against the desk, my arms folded, and my mother stood across from me, her glass of wine in hand. For a long moment, we just stared at each other.She was the first to break it.“Why is he back?” Alessia’s tone was flat, but beneath it lay the cold steel I knew too well.I rubbed at my jaw. “He claims he has information to exchange for money.”Her laugh was sharp, dry. “Information? And here I thought he wanted nothing to do with our world. He despised our money.”“He said it wasn’t the dirty money he wanted,” I replied, repeating David’s exact words with a bitter taste in my mouth. “He says he only has something to sell. Not to take.”I could see the twist of her mouth, the way her expression soured as though even David’s name was rot. Truth be told, I didn’t like him either. He opposed everything we did, always standing higher than us in his self-righteousness. And somewhere deep down, I knew he secretly enj

David’s POVThe sound of his footsteps announced him before the door creaked open. My older brother—Vicenzo—stood there, shoulders squared, jaw tight, eyes carrying that restless fire that never seemed to die.“I’m ready,” he said.The words dropped like lead between us.I leaned back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other as if he hadn’t just come demanding truths. My room smelled faintly of tobacco and leather-bound books, my haven, my retreat from his chaos. I let the silence stretch, watching his impatience grow like smoke choking a fire.“Ready?” I echoed at last, a soft smile tugging at my lips. “Ready for what, brother?”He stepped closer, the veins in his neck straining. “I’m ready to know who has the shipment.”Ah. So that was it. His pride had finally bent far enough to seek my help. I folded my hands over my knee, enjoying the moment.“And if I tell you?” I asked lazily. “What then? You’ll rush out there, guns blazing, and end up bleeding for cargo that might already