Chapter 3

It wasn't until the early hours that the raucous sounds of revelry finally began to fade from the estate.

I was curled up on the bed when Alessio walked in, reeking of heavy liquor.

His tie was pulled loose.

His warm lips lingered against the side of my neck with their usual, suffocating possessiveness. His voice was low and husky, betraying a trace of craving he didn't even realize he had. "Serafina, as long as you behave, we can have other children in the future."

Even after parading his devotion to Bianca in front of the entire mafia today, in the dead of night, he still came to me—habitually seeking comfort like a sick addict crying out for a fix.

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, my nails digging deep into my palms. I forced the gut-wrenching grief down into my very marrow, letting him do whatever he wanted with me.

He quickly noticed my lifeless, rigid state and stopped, clearly displeased. Frowning, his grip on my jaw tightened. "What's this? Who exactly are you putting on this deadpan face for?"

Forcing myself to meet his gaze, I swallowed back every tremor in my body. "My father is dead, isn't he?"

Alessio went completely rigid. The lust in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a flash of shock at being caught off guard. In the next second, that fleeting trace of guilt twisted into defensive, explosive rage.

The pressure on my jaw increased drastically—he was practically trying to shatter my bone. "Since you already know, then you should consider yourself damn lucky the babies were given to Bianca today! Otherwise, they'd be stuck with a criminal's blood for a mother!"

I wrenched my face away, forcing back the last glimmer of unshed tears, and squeezed my eyes shut.

Just then, Bianca walked in holding a glass of water, wearing a perfectly crafted mask of delicate concern. "Alessio, I heard you two arguing... She just lost her father. It's only natural she's emotional. Please don't be angry with her."

Alessio rubbed the bridge of his nose in deep irritation and cursed under his breath. Shaking off his grip on me, he turned his back to us, snapping his lighter to spark a cigarette.

Bianca drifted toward the bed. "Here, Serafina. Have some water. My deepest condolences."

A wave of sheer, physical nausea rushed over me. I coldly swatted her hand away. "Don't touch me."

But the moment my fingertips brushed the back of her hand, instead of flinching, Bianca deliberately threw her entire body backward, riding the momentum of my swing.

She slammed hard into the glass side table next to the bed. The table, along with the water glass, shattered violently.

Bianca crumpled onto the floor amidst a shower of jagged shards. In one fluid motion, she purposely pressed her forearm down onto a vicious spike of glass. Blood immediately spilled out, rapidly staining her pristine white dress red.

When Alessio saw Bianca covered in blood, the very last shred of his sanity was incinerated by a blinding, protective fury.

He carried a lifelong guilt toward any injury Bianca sustained—it was his absolute reverse scale, a trigger no one was ever allowed to touch.

"It hurts... Serafina, I only wanted to comfort you..." Clutching her bleeding arm, Bianca cowered on the floor, her face deathly pale. She looked up at me with wide, tear-filled, horrified eyes.

"You vicious bitch—!"

Alessio lunged forward like a rabid beast. Without a single second of hesitation, he kicked me squarely in the abdomen.

Right into the incision from my C-section that hadn't even fully healed. I clearly heard the sickening sound of flesh tearing open. Searing hot blood instantly soaked through my clothes, gushing wildly down my thighs.

I curled in on myself like a dying insect. My vision blacked out, and even my breaths tasted like copper and blood.

But his punishment was just beginning.

"Since you love hurting people so much," Alessio roared, "I'll teach you the fucking price!"

Reaching wildly, he ripped the leather belt from his waist. He raised his arm high and slashed it down across my body.

The leather tore through fabric and flesh in a split second. My spine arched violently as a bloodcurdling, inhuman shriek tore from my throat.

Another lash brutally caught the back of my neck. Fresh, warm flesh was ripped open anew with every subsequent strike.

Lash after lash rained down upon my back, my thighs, my arms like a torrential storm.

Eventually, the agony was so absolute I couldn't even make a sound.

I had no idea how much time had passed before he finally tired himself out. Not a single patch of intact skin remained on my back. Shredded clothing was glued to my mangled flesh by coagulating blood. I was barely clinging to the faintest gasps of air.

Alessio's voice was as cold and utterly merciless as a demon from hell. "First thing tomorrow morning, send her to the sanitarium in Manhattan! She's not coming back until she learns some fucking sense!"

He scooped up his beloved Bianca and turned away, leaving me to rot alone in the dead silence of the blood-splattered room.

Early the next morning, my barely breathing body was tossed into the back of a car.

Luca had smuggled in a high-concentration adrenaline shot and heavy-duty painkillers last night. Those injections were the only things keeping my last breath tethered to my body.

The second the car doors slammed shut, my sharpened senses caught the faint, distinct chemical scent of C-4 plastic explosives lingering in the cabin.

This was the hearse Bianca had prepared for me. And Alessio, having stripped away my very last right to survive, had personally seen to it that I was put inside.

The car drove out of city limits and began climbing the winding mountain road that hugged the precipice of the coastal cliffs.

Approaching a secluded hairpin turn over the sheer drop, the driver began to decelerate. His hand reached for the door handle, bracing to tuck and roll.

The exact fraction of a second he pushed the door ajar, an explosive burst of primal strength surged from out of nowhere within me. Ignoring the torrent of blood hemorrhaging from my stomach, I lunged forward. Drawing the dagger concealed in my boot, I plunged it ruthlessly into the side of his neck!

The driver let out a bloodcurdling scream, instantly losing all control of the steering wheel.

Using every last ounce of my rapidly depleting strength, I kicked open the opposite passenger door. In the split second before the car smashed completely through the guardrail, I threw myself out, tumbling violently into a deep trench of snow beside the road.

A deafening blast tore the heavens violently apart. A massive fireball of fiery orange erupted from the depths of the cliff below, the sheer force of the shockwave kicking up a blinding blizzard of snow. The rigged car, meant to be my casket, was utterly vaporized into ash.

Alessio... from this moment on, you and I are completely, permanently even.