The Mafia Lord's Secret Lover-Chapter 331: Regret Twisted Deep in His Chest

Axel’s gaze drifted back to Evelyn, his eyes dark and aching.

He memorized every detail of her face, afraid to look away, fearful that if he did, something would happen again.

Silence settled heavily around them.

Even Finley, who usually had something sharp or thoughtful to say, remained quiet.

Finley’s eyes were fixed on Evelyn, too, filled with an emotion far more complex than grief alone. Regret twisted deep in his chest, mingling with anger and self-blame.

If only he had let Axel attend the family gathering with Evelyn. This won’t happen.

Finley’s hands curled slowly into fists. He had lost his family once before. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing them again, not after finally finding her.

"I’m sorry, Eve, Axel..." Finley murmured, more to himself than anyone else, but loud enough to be heard.

Axel turned his head slightly. "It’s not your fault," he said quietly.

The words were gentle, but the cold restraint in his tone sent an involuntary shiver down Finley’s spine.

’Axel wasn’t angry at me...That was worse.’ Finley bitterly smiles.

They stood there together, separated from Evelyn by glass and silence, waiting for the moment they could finally reach her, hoping that when they did, she would open her eyes.

...

Axel didn’t stop David after he excused himself. He didn’t ask him to stay, knowing David had already done more than enough today.

Entrusting someone with Evelyn’s surgery and hospital arrangements, and ensuring everything ran smoothly amid the world’s chaos, was no small matter. Axel knew David had already done everything he could to help him, and he would remember it.

"I’ll come early tomorrow morning, man," David said, patting Axel’s shoulder. "Go rest for a bit! My sister-in-law will be upset if she sees you like this."

Axel simply smiled, unable to find words. He watched David leave before turning to Finley Morgan.

He expected Finley to leave as well.

He was wrong.

Finley followed him into the VIP room, his steps unhurried, his expression composed but unreadable.

The door closed softly behind them, sealing them into a quiet space that felt heavier than the hallway outside.

Axel understood immediately. Finley wasn’t here to rest.

He wanted answers.

They sat across from each other in the seating area, the soft lighting doing nothing to ease the tension.

Axel didn’t bother with pleasantries. "You can ask me anything," he said calmly. "I’ll explain."

Finley didn’t speak right away. His brows were furrowed, his gaze fixed on the floor as if the truth might reveal itself there.

Axel waited. He had learned long ago that Finley preferred silence before confrontation.

Then,

Slowly, the lines on Finley’s forehead eased. He cleared his throat. "Have you caught the Assassin?"

Axel blinked, genuinely surprised. He had expected a different question.

’How did it happen? Who was with her?’

Not this, ’Have you caught the Assassin?’

"Yes," Axel replied evenly. "The one who carried it out. But not the mastermind. My people are still tracking them."

Finley’s jaw tightened instantly. Anger flickered across his face, sharp and unrestrained.

Axel studied him for a second before asking, "How did you know the perpetrator was an assassin? The case hasn’t reached the media. Even the police haven’t been informed yet..." He asked curiously.

Finley leaned back against the sofa, inhaling deeply before answering. "It’s precisely because you didn’t report it that I knew this wasn’t a simple accident. Someone sent an assassin to kill my niece!"

A cold flash ignited in Axel’s eyes.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "They tried to kill her. I don’t know the true motive yet, but I’ll get the answer tonight."

Finley’s hand slammed lightly against the armrest.

"How dare they?" he snapped. "How dare they plan something so diabolical against my niece? They ordered to kill my niece?"

Axel stiffened slightly. The man before him wasn’t just a formidable politician; he also boasted a clean track record, which is why so many people hoped he would become the next president.

It was the first time he’d seen Finley so furious and so openly violent in his killing intent.

Strangely, he really appreciates this side of himself, especially the killing intent in his gaze. They both share the same goal: to avenge Evelyn.

"They won’t walk away," Axel said coldly. "Whoever ordered this won’t receive mercy."

The room fell silent.

No words were exchanged, but both men were locked in the same unspoken vow.

Somewhere out there, someone had decided to take Evelyn’s life. Neither of them would allow that mistake to go unanswered.

Minutes passed before Finley finally spoke again, his voice lower now, stripped of its sharp edge. "I hope Evelyn didn’t lose the baby."

Axel froze.

"She told you?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Finley replied. "She told us about the pregnancy. That’s why I was terrified when I heard about the accident. Broken ribs. A fractured arm. Trauma like that..." His voice trembled despite his effort to remain composed. "I feared the worst."

Axel felt the pain surge back instantly, vicious and unforgiving. It was as if someone had sliced his heart open again and poured acid into the wound.

"Finley..." Axel murmured.

The single word carried a plea. A warning. A confession.

Finley looked up.

Axel met his gaze, his eyes dark, hollow, barely holding together. "Evelyn and I lost our unborn child."

For the first time that night, Finley’s composure shattered.

His eyes widened in disbelief. His lips parted, then closed again. He tried to speak, but no sound came out. He opened his mouth once more, searching for words that didn’t exist.

Nothing could soften a loss like that.

Slowly, Finley pressed his lips together and nodded, as if acknowledging a truth too cruel to deny. His throat tightened painfully.

Axel lowered his head, breaking eye contact. His shoulders trembled, subtle but unmistakable. The weight he had been carrying finally pressed down without restraint.

Finley watched him in silence.

’Cry as much as you want, Axel,’ he thought. ’I know this pain.’

He had lost family once. He understood the emptiness that followed. The silence where laughter should have been. The ache of someone who would never exist in the world.

Neither of them spoke again.

The VIP room held their grief and anger quietly.