The Mafia and his personal Slave のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

Stefano's POV Stefano stood up from his black leather chair stationed at his desk, his fingers rubbing against his chin. He had decided to meet her, to speak with her atleast one last time before the war really started with The Paladin and Morano. Just how badly had he missed her?Before he could answer that thought, the heavy oak doors to his office swung open.Guillermo stepped inside, his expression set in a deep, unreadable frown.Stefano straightened slightly. His younger brother was always composed, but something about his demeanor tonight seemed…off."What is it?" Stefano asked, already anticipating bad news.Guillermo didn’t answer immediately. He reached into his coat, pulled out an envelope, and placed it on Stefano’s desk with a calm calculated slowness that betrayed the urgency in his eyes.The weight of the action made Stefano pause. His gaze flickered to the wax seal pressed against the paper. The insignia was unmistakable... Morano.Each Mafia family had their own set

Teresa's POV Teresa sat motionless on the cold marble floor, her body trembling as silent sobs wracked through her body. The weight of Stefano’s accusations hung over her like a storm cloud, suffocating her with doubt, heartbreak, and confusion. She had tried to deny it, to fight back, but the moment she had seen the letter in Stefano’s hand, his eyes filled with cold fury, it was as if the very ground beneath her had disappeared.He didn’t believe her. And why would he?No matter what she said, no matter how much she pleaded, he had already decided she was a traitor.Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she curled her arms around herself, struggling to contain the overwhelming ache in her chest. It was useless. The tears wouldn’t stop, and the pain only deepened.Lisa knelt beside her, concern etched on her usually stern face. She reached out, placing a firm yet gentle hand on Teresa’s shoulder.“Crying won’t fix this,” Lisa said, her voice softer than Teresa had expected. “I know i

Teresa's POV The room was silent, save for the sound of Teresa’s ragged breathing. Her hands trembled as they clutched the torn fabric of her dress, Guillermo’s assault still burning in her mind like an open wound. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the walls, enclosing her in suffocating darkness.Tears streamed down her face, dripping onto her lap, but she made no move to wipe them away. Her body felt cold, hollow, as if she weren’t truly there. Just a shell, left behind after everything had been stolen from her.For the first time in her life, Teresa felt powerless.She had spent years fighting, first to survive in a world that never truly welcomed her, she had been forced into the monastery against her will, then to be seen as more than just a pawn in Stefano’s game. But now? Now she was nothing more than a broken woman in a locked room, holding onto the tattered remnants of her dignity.Her fingers curled around the shredded fabric, anger seeping into h

Stefano's POV Stefano stood in the dim glow of his study, a glass of whiskey untouched on the desk behind him. The early morning light bled through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. He had been up all night, unable to sleep, his mind circling the same agonizing thoughts like a vulture over a dying carcass.Teresa.Her name echoed in his head, a whisper of regret and longing that he couldn’t silence no matter how much he tried to.He stared out of the window, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. It had been a few days since their last confrontation, since he had thrown cruel words at her, locked her away, and told himself it was for the best. He could still hear his own voice ringing in his ears, harsh and unforgiving."You will never see me again.""I will make sure you're locked up for as long as possible."The moment replayed in his mind over and over again like a film stuck on its worst scene. He hadn’t meant those words. Not in the way they had come out.

Stefano's POV Stefano stood outside the villa, the crisp morning air biting at his skin. The world felt unnervingly still, as if it, too, was holding its breath for what was to come. He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake the weight off his chest. He should feel regret. Should feel ashamed. A Don of the King Mafia in love with a slave? It was unthinkable. But he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. He had spent so long trying to fight it, trying to convince himself that Teresa was just another woman, another pawn in the grand chessboard of his life. Yet the moment he had kissed her, the moment he had let the truth spill from his lips, he had felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time... The sweet taste of relief. There was no more pretending. No more running from the inevitable. He loved her. And for the first time, he wasn’t ashamed of it. But now was not the time to dwell on such things. He had done what was needed, but now he had other things to worr