The Mafia King’s Accidental Wife のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Lorenzo's hands were shaking.I watched as he stared at the photograph of his granddaughter, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. The little girl couldn't have been more than eight, with dark hair and wide, terrified eyes. She looked so small. So fragile."We need to move," he repeated, his voice cracking. "Now.""Wait." I held up my hand, my mind racing. "If we go in blind, Isabella will kill her. She's expecting us to react emotionally. We need to be smarter."Lorenzo's eyes blazed. "That is my granddaughter. My blood. I will not sit here while-""And I'm not suggesting you do." I stepped closer, meeting his gaze without flinching. "But we need a plan. A real one. Not a suicide mission."Sofia appeared at my side, her expression grim. "She's right, Grandfather. Isabella wants you to react. She wants you to make a mistake."Lorenzo's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Fine. What do you propose?"I thought fast, pulling together everything I knew about Isabella, about the Council, a

The rendezvous point was a deserted parking garage on the edge of the city.Dante parked the car on the top level, the concrete walls echoing with the sound of our arrival. The place was empty, shadows pooling in the corners, the only light coming from a few flickering fluorescent bulbs."I don't like this," I said."Neither do I." Dante killed the engine but didn't move. "Stay in the car.""Like hell I will.""Chloe-""I'm not letting you walk into a potential trap alone." I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to face him. "If Marcus is telling the truth, we both need to hear what he has to say. If he's lying, you'll need backup."Dante stared at me for a long moment, his jaw tight. Then he sighed, a sound of reluctant acceptance."Fine. But you stay behind me. If anything goes wrong, you run. No arguments.""No promises."He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse, then got out of the car. I followed, my senses on high alert, every shadow a potential threat.Marcu

Isabella was taken away in chains.I watched as Dante's men dragged her from the bunker, her silver hair disheveled, her elegant composure finally shattered. She didn't look like a queen anymore. She looked like what she was: a broken, bitter woman who had destroyed everything she touched.Dante stood beside me, his body rigid, his face unreadable. I wanted to reach for him, to offer comfort, but something held me back. This wasn't the time. Not yet."Are you okay?" I asked quietly."No." His voice was flat. "But I will be."We walked out of the bunker together, into the cold mountain air. The sun was rising, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. It was beautiful. Almost peaceful.The drive back to the safehouse was silent. Dante stared out the window, lost in thought. I watched him, my heart aching for the pain I knew he was feeling. He had just confronted the woman who killed his parents, who destroyed his family, who had been manipulating him for years. That kind of betrayal

Isabella escaped.The words echoed in my head, a nightmare I couldn't wake from. She was out there, somewhere, probably already planning her next move. And we were sitting here, caught off guard, scrambling to catch up."How?" Dante's voice was ice. "How did she escape?"Marcus shook his head, his face pale. "I don't know. The transport was ambushed. Four guards dead. She vanished.""Who helped her?""We don't know yet. But there's something else." Marcus hesitated. "She left a message."He handed Dante a phone. On the screen was a photograph of a small child, maybe four years old, with dark hair and wide, terrified eyes. A little boy."She says she wants to trade," Marcus said quietly. "The boy for the evidence. All of it. Including the file on Chloe's father."Dante's jaw tightened. "Who is he?""We don't know. But she has him. And she's threatening to kill him if we don't comply."My blood ran cold. Another child. Another innocent life caught in the crossfire of Isabella's madness.

The boy slept through the night, oblivious to the chaos he had caused.I watched him from the doorway, my mind racing. Luca. Isabella's grandson. The heir to an empire built on blood and betrayal. He was four years old, with chubby cheeks and small hands and a teddy bear he clutched like a lifeline. He didn't know who his grandmother was. He didn't know what she had done.And if I had anything to say about it, he never would.Dante appeared beside me, a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, his jaw shadowed with stubble. But there was something different about him this morning. Something softer."How is he?" he asked."Sleeping. He woke up twice, crying for his mother.""His mother?""Apparently, she died last year. Isabella was raising him." I paused. "She was training him. Can you imagine? Four years old, and she was already molding him into a little soldier."Dante's expression hardened. "She won't get the chance to finish.""What do we do wit