Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

Cali’s pov.It’s past midnight by the time Belle’s skin stops feeling like ice.I have every heater in the room turned on full blast. A fire roars in the marble hearth, casting golden light over the massive guest suite Hale insisted she take for herself. Thick blankets cocoon her, and she’s curled into them like she might disappear if she moves too fast.Steam curls from the tea cup I made her—something herbal from the kitchen cabinet that promised to calm nerves. Her fingers are still trembling too hard to hold it without spilling, so I sit close beside her, one hand around her cup, the other steadying her wrist.She hasn’t let go of me since we got back.Not once.Not when I helped her into the bath, scrubbing the dirt and dried blood from her arms and legs. Not when I combed out her tangled hair, or when I gently pulled the stiff auction collar from her throat. And certainly not when I helped her into one of my old hoodies and wrapped her in layer after layer of blankets like she m

Cali’s pov.Belle doesn’t sit at first.She stares at me like she already knows what I’m about to say, and some part of her just doesn’t want to hear it. But her legs tremble, and eventually she lowers herself onto the edge of the leather couch, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle like she’s bracing for a punch.I stay standing.Because sitting would make this feel too… gentle. Too safe. And what I’m about to say isn’t either of those things.“It wasn’t Hale,” I say quietly. “He didn’t kill Mom.”Belle’s lips press into a thin line. Her jaw works like she’s trying to hold herself together with nothing but tension and breath.“Then who did?”I hesitate.She sees it. “Cali,” she snaps, voice cracking. “Tell me.”“It was Dad.”Silence.The kind that doesn’t land like a bomb—but like a confirmation.Belle exhales, slow and sharp, her fingers tightening around her ribs.“I figured.”I blink. “What?”“I figured it was him,” she says softly. “Part of me has always known. He lied too e

Cali’s pov.The alarm may have stopped echoing through the house, but the noise it left behind is still inside my chest.It’s the kind of sound that leaves a bruise. That lingers long after the echo dies, vibrating along my ribs like an aftershock. I can feel it in the soles of my feet, in the tension of my neck, in the way Belle’s hand hasn’t let go of mine since they told us it was safe.She doesn’t speak when the steel door of the stairwell creaks open.She just stares out at the hallway like it’s a trap waiting to spring.Marcus, one of Hale’s security men, nods at me from the threshold. He’s calm, composed, probably already sweeping the building with his team. “We’ve confirmed the car is gone. There was no breach of the interior. The system’s reset. You’re free to come up.”Belle doesn’t move.Her fingers tighten around mine.I glance down at her—tucked into the corner of the steps, knees drawn up, hoodie swallowing her frame—and my heart twists. She hasn’t said a word since the

Cali’s pov.I haven’t stopped thinking about it since Hale told me.The box.The bracelet.The message.You stole from me.I sit curled in one of the chairs near the conservatory windows, nursing a second cup of lukewarm tea, watching the light change over the treetops as the sun dips lower in the sky. Late afternoon bleeds across the floor in soft amber waves, painting long shadows over the marble.Belle is upstairs, sleeping. Hale had one of the maids bring her tea, a stack of soft clothes, and noise-cancelling headphones. She didn’t ask questions. Just smiled faintly and accepted them.It’s the first time she’s looked like a teenager in weeks.But my thoughts are miles away.What could she have taken?She left so fast. No bag. No documents. Not even a jacket.I think back to when we found her. Limping. Covered in dirt and blood. Too dazed to even speak. She was barefoot.There was nothing on her.Unless…Unless it was something Burke gave her first.Maybe a gift. Something disguise

I pace the hallway like a madwoman, one hand fisted in the hem of my shirt, the other curling into my palm so tightly my nails dig half-moons into the flesh.Belle’s collapsed.Just dropped—like her body gave up mid-step. No warning. No cry for help. One second she was standing beside me in the hallway, trying to laugh at something stupid I said about the scrambled eggs being suspiciously runny, and the next, she folded like a ragdoll into my arms.I screamed for Hale before I even knew what was happening.Now I wait.The doctor—one of Hale’s trusted contacts, a private physician who works off record and on retainer—has been in there for over an hour. Hale sent the staff away. Belle’s room is closed off. I can’t even hear her breathing through the door.I hate this.I hate this so goddamn much.My sister just got out of hell. And now it’s like her body is betraying her in the aftermath.I don’t even realize I’ve gone still until I hear the low murmur of voices behind the door. It crea