บททั้งหมดของ Owned By My Mafia Brother-in-law : บทที่ 161 - บทที่ 170

Chapter 160|| REINALDO’S POV ||I stood in front of the tall mirror in my private suite while my aides moved around me in practice silence. Public appearances were never unfamiliar to me, but that morning, the air felt tighter, almost expectant.A security officer adjusted my cuff.“Your Highness, the convoy will be ready in twenty minutes.”I nodded, my eyes still on my own reflection. The crown prince staring back at me looked composed, controlled—exactly what the public needed to see. They could never see what stayed beneath the surface.Just as I reached for my gloves, my phone vibrated on the table.The name flashing on the screen made my jaw tighten.Francis.I picked up immediately.“Speak.”His voice came low and urgent, stripped of its usual arrogance.“You need to listen carefully, Reinaldo.”My hand stilled.“What is it?”“There’s credible information,” he said, pausing as if choosing his words with care, “that Ryan has assigned a shooter.”The room seemed to narrow around

Chapter 162 || REINALDO’S POV ||Later the same day, the weight of the truth finally caught up to me.I was still inside the estate, the echo of the public visit clinging to my ears like an aftershock, when Vincent asked for permission to enter. He didn’t wait for my answer. The moment he stepped inside, I knew something was wrong. His posture was rigid, his face stripped of its usual composure.I looked up from the glass of water in my hand. “Speak.”Vincent shut the door behind him carefully. “Sir… we finished verifying the information.”I narrowed my eyes. “What information?”He hesitated for half a second too long. “About today.”My fingers tightened around the glass. “Go on.”“You were targeted,” he said finally. “There was a shooter.”The words landed without sound, but they hit hard.I didn’t react immediately. I just stared at him, as if staring long enough might make the sentence rearrange itself into something less serious.“A shooter,” I repeated slowly.“Yes, sir.”“Where

Chapter 164|| ANASTASIA’S POV ||He had started it the moment he realized I wasn’t backing away.“Francis was never a man to force himself on Eva,” he said again, louder, as if volume could change the past. “Never.”I stared at him. My chest felt tight, like someone had tied a rope around my ribs and pulled.“You keep saying that like you were there,” I replied, my voice steady even though my throat was dry. “Were you there, Reinaldo?”His jaw flexed.“I know Francis.”“You think you know Francis,” I corrected instantly. “You trusted him. That doesn’t make him innocent. It only makes you biased.”The room felt too big and too silent around us, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. The air carried the scent of expensive wood polish and the faint traces of whatever cologne he wore—something cold and sharp, like his temper.Reinaldo stepped forward, invading my space the way he always did when he wanted to push me back without touching me.“You’re not going to ruin him b

Chapter 166|| REINALDO’S POV ||Francis’s call came in earlier than I expected, slicing through the quiet of my morning like a blade. The vibration on my phone felt heavier than usual, as if the device itself carried the weight of what was about to be said. I answered without delay.“Reinaldo,” Francis said, his voice tight, controlled, but strained underneath. “They’re questioning me again. About Eva.”I closed my eyes for a brief second. The name still had that effect. Eva. No matter how many times it came up, it refused to lose its sharpness. It was never just a name. It was a wound that refused to heal.“Where are you?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.“At the station. Same officers as before,” he replied. “They’re polite, but it’s clear they’re digging. Someone reopened the file.”I leaned back in my chair, fingers pressing against my temple. This wasn’t random. Nothing ever was. Not after everything that had happened. Not after the way certain people had learned to weaponize g

Chapter 168 || ANASTASIA'S POV ||My fingers were trembling. The papers—copies of Eva's post-mortem report—were inside the envelope. They weren't just papers; they were the truth painted on a dead body. And the truth had been hidden for so long. Who had hidden it—I knew. Who was afraid—I knew. And whose face would bear the "consequences" The word that fit best—I knew that, too.I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection. If I kept my head down, maybe I could stay safe inside this palace. Life would go on wearing the masks of royal attire, a silent smile, "I know nothing." But a part of me was crying—not for Eva, but for the truth. Someone killed a girl, and we all stayed silent? Was I to stay silent?As I moved toward the door, I remembered the set of clothes Marcel had given me—plain clothes, like a maid's. I went out like this yesterday, too. The same method today. Because I knew that if Reynaldo found out—he would use all his power to stop me.I changed into the cl