Marvel's Superman Chapter 35

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If Luke knew Alessandro's bizarre thinking, he would put a hole in this guy's head with his fist!

By the door of the main bedroom, draped in a silk nightgown, Malèna's eyes looked complicated, as if she was finally relieved. ​​

She sat blankly on the bed, somewhat bewildered and overwhelmed.

Malèna had already prepared for the worst when she was sent to Luke's room.

Played, violated, and then gradually slipped into the abyss of hell.

This was all she could think of.

But things didn't go in the worst possible direction.

The man, Mr. Corleone, displayed a gentlemanly demeanor rarely seen in the small-town folk.

Neither his movement nor words were frivolous.

Thinking of this, Malèna spoke from her heart, "Mr. Corleone is a decent man."

She was used to the disgusting stares of the men in town, who looked like they wanted to strip her clothes off with their eyes. She couldn't help but be sincerely grateful for Luke's restraint.

Malèna, who had lost confidence in men, shrank back into the quilt and wrapped herself.

She could now finally sleep in peace.

"Malèna…"

In her hazy sleep, Malèna heard someone calling her name.

In a trance, she seemed to think of her sick father and her dead husband…

Pearls of tears came out and soaked the pillow she was holding as she relaxed, and the pressure which had been weighing her for many days turned into sorrow and heartache for her fate

Suddenly ...

Malèna, who noticed the change in atmosphere around her, suddenly opened her eyes as if awakened.

Then --

She saw Mr. Corleone sitting by the bed with food on a tray.

She didn't notice when she rolled over in her sleep, she wrapped her arms around his waist and her face positioned near his thigh.

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After such intimate behavior, Malèna suddenly bounced away as if she had been electrocuted, bringing her back to reality!

"Um ... I saw that you were asleep quite some time, so I thought you might feel hungry when you get up, so I got some food for us."

Luke's expression remained calm, and he didn't look away.

He said, "You're the one who hugged first." - 'I am indeed a decent man'.

...

The next day, early morning.

The sky was a subtle grey, as the golden sun slowly leaped out of the horizon to wake up the sleeping Sicily.

Luke opened his eyes and got up from the big bed in the second bedroom.

He opened the flowy curtains and took a deep breath in the morning sun.

He was as if a plant was photosynthesizing, feeling warm light seeping into his cells bit by bit and slowly transforming his body.

"It's another day full of energy."

Luke stretched himself, walking into the bathroom.

When he finished washing up, a hearty breakfast was already on the table.

'I wonder if Cossa's mission has been completed?'

Luke rolled the seafood pasta with a fork and thought so as he ate.

On this beautiful island, which is almost isolated from the rest of the world, the administrative officials are divided into a governor, a regional mayor, and a constable at the lowest level.

After eliminating Taormina's constable, taking advantage of the blank period of selecting a successor, the Mafia could do things conveniently.

'I wonder what Rogers is doing right now? Is he still performing on stage?'

After a while, Luke heard a noise in the main bedroom.

Malèna, who seldom slept well, carefully opened the door.

She saw Luke sitting at the table, enjoying his food swiftly and efficiently.

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She was like a frightened deer, so scared that the head that she poked out hastily retracted.

"You're awake? I've got a change of clothes for you, come and eat something."

Luke smiled and whispered, "Malèna, you and I stay under the same roof. We would always have to see each other. What's the use of avoiding me?"

Malèna came out silently in her silk nightgown after hearing that.

She bent down, picked up the brand-new clothes on the sofa, and then returned to the room.

Ten minutes later, the main bedroom's door opened; Malèna, dressed in a modest dress, sat down at the dining room table.

"The pasta is cold. Just have the sandwiches and juice."

Luke looked up and looked at her. 'It fits her.'

He was probably the first person ever to use supervision to guess a woman's three measurements.

"I told Cossa that I would let you go back in a few days - don't get me wrong, Malèna. I came to Sicily to do something. I won't stay long. I will leave tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. For the sake of confidentiality, I'll let you stay here for a couple of days."

Luke's polite attitude made Malèna relax a little.

As Alessandro said, she has no job, no income source, and with the wartime food restrictions, she had become the sweet cake that all men in Sicily wanted to eat.

If she didn't meet Luke, Malèna would one day let go of her inner perseverance, and with her heart full of despair and numbness, she would have fallen.

"Thank you, Mr. Corleone!"

Thinking to this point, Malèna couldn't help but be grateful to the young man sitting opposite her.

She nibbled at the sandwich and watched Luke reading the newspaper.

Clean short black hair, deep facial contour, slightly sharp eyes...

In Sicily, she believed he could charm many beautiful, passionate, and unrestrained girls!

"Malèna, I have to go out. If you need anything, you can contact the inn staff, and they will get it for you."

Luke put the newspaper down and looked at the time.

He thought he should go and see Alessandro and the twenty gunmen he recruited.

"O... Okay. Mr. Corleone."

Malèna leaned against the door, staring at Luke's leaving back and somehow feeling at ease.

Initially, she was ready to become a plaything, but there seemed to be a glimmer of hope in her tragic life.

Malèna returned to the table with a complicated mood. She inadvertently saw the opened newspaper, especially a bold headline that reads...

[Shocking! The constable's car fell off a cliff! Read what happened!]

"The constable is dead?"

Malèna was in a daze and didn't know what to say.

The heaviest piece of stone in her heart disappeared. Just like that?

Suddenly...

'It's Mr. Corleone!'

Malèna thought of Don Alessandro, a bully in Sicily and whom no one dared to mess with, but he bowed to the young man and was careful to show his goodwill.

"Is it really him?"

Malèna, who experienced emotional ups and downs, looked at the clear blue sky and white clouds outside the window. Her heart was like a turbulent sea, and she could no longer calm down.

.

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