Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 151 - チャプター 160

Cali’s POV.I didn’t take Hale’s car. That would’ve been too easy to trace.Instead, I hotwired one of the decoy sedans from the garage—the ones Hale uses when he doesn’t want anyone watching. It had cash in the glove compartment, two burner phones, and an unregistered Glock under the driver’s seat. Everything I needed, which only confirmed what I already knew.He kept that car ready for a reason.He knew one day I’d do this.I drove all night. Eyes dry. Heart louder than the engine. The road curled beneath me like something alive, something coiled, and all I could do was grip the wheel and keep moving forward. I didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. Didn’t fall apart.Not yet.There would be time for that later—after I tore Killian Vale’s heart out of his chest.The Valeska Syndicate had half a dozen fronts scattered along the southern coast. But only one was registered under a name I recognized. An old family contact. Someone Burke used to trade with before the merger fell apart. If Killian wa

Cali’s POV.Sleep had been a laughable suggestion.Even after collapsing into bed sometime after midnight, after Killian had been secured, after Hale had finally stopped pacing the perimeter of the house like a storm in a glass cage, I couldn’t shut my mind off. Every time I closed my eyes, it was his voice I heard. Killian’s voice, smirking its way through my skull, whispering venom I thought I’d buried long ago.I’d thought seeing him chained up would bring some satisfaction. I thought maybe I’d feel powerful again. But instead, the weight in my chest only grew heavier.By the time the first pale smear of light pushed against the curtains, I was already dressed and moving. The halls were silent, everyone either still asleep or giving me space. Hale had reinforced the basement security last night. A new code. A new scan. Not even I could walk straight in anymore.But that didn’t mean I couldn’t watch.I stopped at the panel mounted outside the sublevel entrance. Hale might’ve changed

Hale’s POV.The plane touched down just before dusk.From above, Marseille looked like a fractured mirror—sunlight skimming broken rooftops, alleyways carving shadows through old stone blocks. The city was beautiful in the way all old cities were: too old to care who bled in its streets. The kind of place where men like Matteo Costa didn’t just exist—they thrived.Cali sat across from me in the jet cabin, her boot tapping rhythmically against the floor, arms crossed, head turned toward the window but not really looking. She hadn’t said much since we left the estate. Just nodded when I handed her the burner, grunted when I passed her the holster, and studied the layout of Matteo’s last known location like it was a puzzle she intended to solve without speaking.I understood.She didn’t want to feel anything. Not yet.Not until there was something to burn.We exited through the back gate of the private airfield, picked up by one of my embedded local drivers—an old Corsican smuggler named

Hale’s POV.The building was already rotting.From the outside, the crematorium looked like a corpse left to weather. Vines crept over crumbling brick, windows boarded up, the stone angel above the doorhead so worn her face had eroded into a vague smudge. Nothing about this place said important. Which was the point.Cali didn’t speak as we approached. She stayed close, eyes sweeping the grounds with methodical precision. She hadn’t looked away from her surroundings since we stepped off the trail. Something about this place didn’t sit right. I could feel it too. It was too quiet. Too still. The kind of quiet that didn’t belong to ruins—it belonged to watchers.The front door gave under my hand with a reluctant groan.Inside, the smell hit first. Mold. Old ash. Something faintly metallic, buried under decades of decay. The main incinerator was exactly where Thorne said it would be—back room, beneath the broken rafters, split down the middle like someone had tried to disassemble it and f

Hale’s pov.The second I saw that message—Ryker’s smug, digital signature crawling across my screen like a parasite—I shut everything down.No warnings. No system diagnostics. No polite disengage.Just the master override key and a single command: kill the feed.The entire estate went dark from the inside out. Every internal security loop, every backup server, every feed tied to the external sensors—offline. Cut at the source. I didn’t care how many protocols it broke. If Ryker had been watching us, if he’d embedded himself into our walls, our wires, our lives—then I was done giving him the benefit of the doubt.No more waiting. No more wondering.We were at war now.Cali moved the second she saw my face. She didn’t need to ask. She read it the way soldiers read detonators—silent, tight, seconds away from ignition. She walked out of the room without a word, her hand brushing mine as she passed, and within minutes she was back with Belle’s medications and a weatherproof duffel slung ov