All Chapters of How to Escape from a Ruthless Mobster: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

POV: BeatriceIt gnawed at me, an ache I couldn’t ignore. My family had let me go too easily. The realization cut deep, deeper than I wanted to admit. They had fought when I was married off, but now? Nothing. I had been ripped from them, and in the void they left behind, all that remained were my father’s lies and betrayals.I swallowed hard, fingers twitching over my phone. Where was Dario? Had the Morunagas done something to him? Had he returned to Italy without telling me? Why wasn’t he answering my calls?I could dial Ryuu, demand answers—but what would I even say? If he had hurt Dario, he wouldn’t admit it. And if he hadn’t, would I even believe him?Maybe I should reach out to my other cousins. But if Ryuu was involved, and they found out, I’d be the one who set everything ablaze. A war would break out, and I would be trapped in the center of it. No matter how distant I felt from them, my loyalties were now bound to Ryuu. If a battle ignited between our families, I wouldn’t have

POV: RyuuBeatrice and Sophia stumbled into Esposito’s mansion, their laughter spilling down the hallway, reckless and unguarded. If I hadn’t been there, steadying her, Beatrice would have hit the floor long ago. Every time she lost her balance, I pulled her back, keeping her upright. I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, but she had more than made up for it. Twice over. I wasn’t sure how she had even made it this far, but now we stood at the base of the grand staircase, Sophia swaying toward her own room while Beatrice clung to me, barely conscious of her own movements. By the time I got her to the bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed, her breath uneven from laughter, her face flushed from the alcohol burning through her system. "Sit with me," she demanded, her voice thick with intoxication. She sprawled across the mattress, fingers grasping at the sheets before lifting in a lazy, beckoning motion. I shut the door behind me, quietly, deliberately. "You’re drunk," I stated, wat

The moment I stepped out of Ryuu’s black Audi, the sharp night air cut through me, a stark contrast to the suffocating silence that had filled the car. He was right behind me, handing his keys to the valet with the same detached efficiency he handled everything. He hadn’t spoken the entire drive. The tension between us had settled into something heavier, something that coiled beneath my skin. Something was wrong. I felt it. We stepped inside, and the restaurant's warm lighting did little to soften the weight pressing against my chest. Large, exposed bulbs cast a golden glow over crisp linens draped across rustic wooden tables, an elegant balance between modern and traditional. The perfect setting for an intimate dinner. Or, in our case, whatever this was. His hand found the small of my back as he guided me forward, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin silk of my dress. A touch that once would have felt rehearsed now lingered just a second too long. A reminder of a time

POV: RyuuNitta’s gaze burned into me. I could feel the weight of my brother’s judgment, every rigid inch of his posture screaming disapproval. He stood beside me, arms crossed, head snapping in my direction."So that’s why you didn’t bring her home," he said, his voice devoid of doubt. No questions, just condemnation.My jaw clenched, but I kept my voice steady, cold. "There were a lot of reasons, Nitta. But yeah, that was part of it. You saw what happened when she got too close to our world. I won’t let that happen again."My throat tightened, but I buried it. It was an ugly truth. No matter how much I needed her close, Beatrice wouldn’t return until I’d cleared the path for her. For good.The men began filtering into the mansion, stepping through the double doors like they owned the place. Once, I had known them. Now, they were strangers—shadows of who they used to be. They moved with arrogant grins, unchecked entitlement. And I wasn’t going to tolerate it. Not here. Not on my gro

POV BeatriceRyuu’s brow furrowed slightly as he leaned back, giving me space. I reached for the envelope, my hand trembling as I passed it to him.“This came today,” I said, watching as he took it. His grip was firm, his expression hardening by the second. His jaw tensed as he tore open the paper, careless, impatient. The photos spilled into his lap.One by one, he flipped through them, his tension coiling tighter until a low, dangerous growl escaped his throat.“These photos of your mother… where did they come from?”I should have expected the question. Of course he would connect the dots. He wasn’t stupid. I exhaled slowly, avoiding his gaze for a moment.“Same envelope. Same handwriting. Same anonymity.”“Son of a bitch.” The words cut through the air like a blade, and I flinched. He threw the photos onto the floor, the images scattering at my feet.“How long has this been happening?” His voice was sharp, edged with barely restrained fury. I hesitated. “Beatrice. How long have you