All Chapters of How to Escape from a Ruthless Mobster: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

POV: BeatriceWhen I stepped into the kitchen that morning, the sight of Fukui leaning casually against the counter sent a ripple of déjà vu through me. He was immaculate, as always, dressed in another impossibly tailored suit that made me feel even more disheveled in my oversized sweater and messy ponytail. It was barely seven, and his sharp gaze met mine briefly before I looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the steam curling up from my coffee. The porcelain mug burned against my palms, but it was nothing compared to the searing intensity of his scrutiny. I knew I looked a mess. A restless night of tossing and turning had left me drained, and Ryuu had been the root of it. Again. Our constant clashes gnawed at my patience, and I had no doubt that Fukui, with his unnerving perceptiveness, could see every frayed edge of my composure. “Another coffee and a fresh serving of bad news?” I muttered, thinking back to our last encounter in this very kitchen when he’d delivered one of

POV: BeatriceWhen the woman finally approached our table, I smoothed my expression into a mask of indifference, carefully concealing my curiosity. It was obvious Fukui knew her, and judging by the tension radiating off him, their history was far from simple. Watching him squirm provided a spark of amusement, but I couldn’t let my guard down. Strangers who mingled with the Morunaga family rarely came without hidden motives, and this Sophia was no exception. “Fukui,” she greeted, her tight smile failing to reach her sharp, calculating eyes. Her gaze flicked to me, assessing and unrelenting, as though she were dissecting my very presence at the table. “Sophia,” Fukui replied curtly, his jaw tightening, hands vanishing from view as though he were bracing for something unpleasant. Sophia’s posture screamed confidence, from the subtle arch of her brow to the way she cocked her hip with the ease of someone accustomed to being the center of attention. Her eyes dropped to the wedding ba

POV: BeatriceLying in bed with my phone in hand, I scrolled through the evening news highlights, doing my best to ignore Ryuu’s stormy presence across the room. He hadn’t slept here once since we got married, so why now? Why tonight? All I wanted was to shut out the world, turn off the lights, and get some much-needed rest. Instead, he moved through the room like a thundercloud, muttering under his breath and slamming drawers with enough force to rattle the dresser. The party had been a draining spectacle. We’d left early, but even so, the endless social pleasantries and fake smiles from his oversized, power-hungry family had left me exhausted. Now, Ryuu’s relentless racket was transforming my exhaustion into a pounding headache. “Ryuu,” I called, my voice soft but laced with irritation. I didn’t look up from my phone, but I could feel his gaze flick toward me. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught his perpetually annoyed expression—his default, it seemed. “Are you planning to ke

Pov: RyuuI got home late that night—so late that I didn’t expect to find Beatrice still awake. She sat on the bed, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, a book propped against her bent knees. Her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and the thin camisole clinging to her body did nothing to stop my eyes from trailing down the length of her legs. I forced my gaze away, muttering a curse under my breath as I headed straight for the bathroom. I needed a long, scalding shower to wash off the stench of another wasted day chasing ghosts. The hours spent gathering intel on Vincenzo Espósito had only left me with more questions and a deeper frustration gnawing at the edges of my patience. His release was inevitable, but what it meant for me—for all of us—was still uncertain. And uncertainty was something I couldn’t afford. Steam billowed around me as the water pounded against my back, but it did little to ease the tension tightening my muscles. When I stepped out, rubb

POV: RyuuI wasn’t expecting Fukui’s call that night. If he was reaching out, something was off. His only job was to keep Beatrice safe, and he wouldn’t be bothering me unless something wasn’t sitting right with him. "What happened?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the weight pressing down on my chest. I had just left a meeting with two of the other families, another wasted night chasing whispers and dead ends about the threats closing in on us. My patience was wearing thin, and now, standing in the lobby of our hotel—the polished front for our operations—I scanned the room with sharp eyes, searching for anything that might feel out of place. "Relax, Ryuu," Fukui’s voice came through the line, tight but not entirely reassuring. That single word only made my frown deepen. "Beatrice is fine, but… I’m worried about her. More than usual." His tone carried an exhaustion that settled like a stone in my gut. "Why?" I asked, my mind immediately jumping to our last encounter