Bound to the Syndicate Boss のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Chapter 32Lumiere's POV The room smelled of old paper, cold coffee, and fear.I sat at a heavy mahogany desk in the auxiliary archive room, far beneath the main living quarters of the fortress. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with black leather binders, handwritten ledgers, and files containing years of hidden financial transactions.A single green-shaded desk lamp cast a harsh yellow circle of light over the papers in front of me, leaving the rest of the room buried in deep shadows.Across the desk sat Jalo.He didn't look like a man who had nearly blown up the compound a day ago.He wore a clean white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His fingers casually twirled a silver fountain pen over a thick ledger. He looked almost amused as he watched me with those sharp, calculating eyes that always made me feel like an insect pinned under glass."You want me to teach you how the syndicate moves its money?" Jalo asked, his voice low and teasing as i

Chapter 34Lumiere's POV The dining room was quiet, except for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the low hum of the wind against the tall, iron-framed windows.A single silver candelabra sat in the middle of the long mahogany table, casting flickering shadows across the dark wood.The plates in front of us were untouched.A heavy silence filled the room, thick with everything neither of us had said and the lingering weight of the ledger I'd found in the archives.Mikael sat at the head of the table.He had removed his jacket, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing the pale, jagged scar across his wrist—a reminder of the night ten years ago when everything had burned.He wasn't looking at his plate.His ice-grey eyes stayed fixed on me, studying me with a quiet patience, as if he were waiting to see which version of me would finally break through.I kept my hands flat against the edge of the table, my fingers gripping the dark fabric of my trousers."You haven

Chapter 36Lumiere's POV The smoke from the blown doors still hung thick in the corridor when the steady sound of heavy boots echoed up the stone steps.It wasn't the frantic rush of an invading militia. The footsteps were slow, deliberate, almost relaxed, like a man taking a Sunday stroll through a familiar garden.Mikael stepped in front of me instantly, his gun drawn and aimed at the archway. Every muscle in his body was tense, ready to react. Talvikki moved to our left, her weapon raised, her breath caught in her throat.Through the gray haze, a tall figure appeared.He wore a thick wool winter coat over a tailored suit. His shock of white hair was neatly brushed, and deep lines framed his pale-blue eyes. He looked more like an old, distinguished professor visiting a quiet university campus than someone walking through a smoke-filled fortress.Otso Salo.The patriarch of the northern coalition and Mikael's oldest advisor. I'd seen his portrait hanging in the grand archive room, b

Chapter 38Lumiere's POV My fingers flew across the keyboard of the auxiliary terminal, the harsh green light from the monitor casting sharp, flickering shadows across the damp stone walls of the underground archive room.The screen scrolled endlessly with corporate data, financial ledgers, and transaction codes. Across the small metal table, Jalo leaned forward with a cup of lukewarm coffee in his hand, watching me with a smug, calculating expression.He thought I was here to help him audit the syndicate accounts and trap Mikael.He had no idea what I was actually looking for. He also had no idea that the tightness in my chest came from a suffocating fear that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the web of lies unraveling around me."Look right there," Jalo murmured, pointing at a block of numbers near the middle of the screen. "That is where the northern timber revenue hits the first layer of shell companies. Clean, quiet, entirely untraceable by the council. Mikae

Lumiere's POV Cold water dripped from the stone ceiling, hitting the back of my neck like frozen needles.The emergency red-alert klaxon still shrieked through the ventilation shafts, a harsh, pulsing rhythm that matched the frantic beating of my heart. Total darkness swallowed the archive room. I couldn't see the computer terminal, Jalo, or Mikael. The only thing keeping me anchored to reality was the solid warmth of Mikael’s shoulder pressed against mine in the dark."Stay behind me," Mikael whispered, his voice dangerously low as it cut through the wailing alarm.His hand brushed against my wrist, his fingers wrapping around my skin with a fierce, possessive grip that left no room to argue. In the pitch black, every sense felt sharper. I could smell the sharp tang of gunpowder, the damp earth of the basement, and the warm musk of Mikael’s skin. The tension between us wasn't just about survival anymore. It was a desperate, burning awareness that at any second, everything we had unc