A Sin I Couldn't Escape

A Seat At The Devil's Table

The moment Alessandro mentioned his brother was coming for dinner, the air in the kitchen felt heavier.

Adrian.

Just hearing his name twisted something painful in my chest. No matter how hard I tried to avoid thinking about him, he kept finding a way to haunt me. I hadn't even recovered from the humiliation at the party, and now I was expected to sit at the same table as the man who had shattered my heart.

I clenched my fists, anger and frustration bubbling beneath my calm exterior. Was this another one of Alessandro's cruel games? Or was fate simply refusing to let me escape the past?

I forced myself to breathe, reminding myself that I had no choice but to play along. I couldn't show weakness—not now. Not ever. I looked in the mirror and whispered a promise to myself: Stay strong. Do not break.

By evening, everything was set. The villa had been transformed into a scene of perfection: gleaming silverware, crystal glasses, and the kind of understated elegance that masked power and control.

I was dressed in the gown Alessandro had chosen for me. Surprisingly, his taste wasn't bad. The dark, elegant fabric draped over me perfectly, and the black lip gloss added just the right touch of strength and sophistication. I was no longer the timid Sofia everyone thought they knew. Tonight, I would be seen. Tonight, I would be strong.

Alessandro walked into my room without knocking.

"Hey, can you at least knock before you come in here?" I said without even looking at him.

I heard his footsteps coming closer.

When I finally turned, I froze.

He was wearing nothing but his underwear. His figure — every hard line of muscle — was on full display. For a moment I couldn't move. I tried to keep myself together, not letting him notice the reaction that flashed through me.

This can't be real.

"Alessandro… you look—"

The words stopped in my throat before I could finish them.

He tilted his head slightly, watching me with that calm, unreadable expression of his.

"What?" he asked slowly.

I immediately looked away, pretending to be annoyed instead of flustered.

"Nothing," I muttered. "You could at least wear something before walking into someone's room like that."

A faint smirk touched his lips as he stepped closer.

"This is my house," he said calmly. "And more importantly…"

His voice lowered.

"This is my wife's room."

My heart skipped, but I refused to let him see it.

"Just because we are married doesn't mean you can barge in whenever you want," I shot back.

His eyes darkened slightly, amused by my defiance.

"Oh?" he said. "You think this is me barging in?"

He leaned a little closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming.

"You haven't seen me barging in yet, piccola."

Before I could react, he pressed me against the wall. My heart raced. His voice dropped to a low, teasing tone. "You look gorgeously powerful."

I tried to push him away, but he pinned me, so close I could feel his breath against my skin. Then he kissed my neck, his words sending shivers down my spine. "Don't worry. Sooner or later, you'll fit into the way I want my woman to be."

A sharp pressure around my throat reminded me of his control. "You're my little b***h, piccola," he said, his eyes dark, "maybe you'll grow into my type of woman."

Then, as suddenly as he had come, he pulled away and left. His figure, his words, his presence—they all replayed in my mind, relentless. I forced myself to think clearly. I can't fall for him. Not now. Not ever.

Not long after, I heard the familiar sound of a vehicle pulling into the villa. I knew immediately—it was Adrian.

A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. I opened it to see my aunt standing there. We exchanged greetings, and her eyes immediately fell on the faint hickey Alessandro had left on my neck.

I quickly tried to cover it. "It's nothing," I murmured.

"Is he hurting you?" she asked softly, concern etched across her face.

I forced a reassuring smile. "No. Don't worry."

Her expression softened. "The guests have finally arrived. Alessandro asked me to tell you to come down."

I nodded, smiling faintly. "I'll be down in a minute."

She left, and I took one last look at myself in the mirror before walking toward the staircase. My reflection stared back at me: calm, composed, and ready. Tonight, I would not be weak.

As i began walking down the grand staircase, the soft murmur of voices from the dining room drifted through the mansion. Every step i took felt heavy, but my face remained calm, unreadable.

Halfway down the stairs, my stepmother appeared in front of me.

The woman walked closer with that same familiar smile — the one i had learned to hate over the years.

"Oh, Sofia," she said sweetly, reaching out and touching my arm before leaning forward to place a light kiss on my cheek.

It was fake.

The smile.

The kiss.

Everything.

I slowly pulled her hand away from my me.

"Cut the act," i said coldly.

My stepmother froze.

"You don't have to pretend with me," i continued, my voice calm but sharp. "I knew exactly who you were the moment you walked into my life and stole everything from me."

For a brief second, the fake smile on the woman's face twitched.

But i didn't wait for a response.

I simply brushed past her and continued walking toward the dining room.

The long table was already filled.

With my Powerful husband, Adrian and Amanda.

My husband face was Cold.

As my stepmom came back and sat down.

And at the center of it all sat Alessandro.

The moment he noticed me, the conversation at the table seemed to quiet slightly.

I walked in slowly, my posture straight, my steps controlled.

I refused to look nervous.

When i reached the table, Alessandro stood.

Without a word, he pulled out the chair beside him.

The gesture surprised almost everyone present.

I met his eyes for a brief moment before sitting down gracefully, like a queen claiming her seat rather than a prisoner forced into it.

Elegant.

Composed.

Powerful.

A maid quickly stepped forward and poured wine into my glass.

I lifted it calmly, swirling the drink slightly before taking a slow sip.

Across the table, Adrian and his fiance my step sister watched.

Confusion flickered across Adrian's face.

This was not the Sofia he knew.

This was someone else entirely.

And for the first time since the dinner began…

I smiled.

Studying him like i was remembering something amusing.

"I hope my dear stepsister is treating you well," i continued lightly. "Loving you the way I used to when we were together."

Adrian's hand froze.

Amanda's expression darkened immediately.

I didn't stop.

I tilted my head slightly, my voice calm and almost thoughtful.

"It's strange, isn't it?" i said. "You used to promise me the world."

My eyes finally met Adrian's.

Slow. Direct.

"And now," i added softly, "you can't even look me in the eye."

The tension around the table tightened like a rope being pulled.

Adrian shifted in his seat, his jaw clenching.

"Sofia—" he started.

But i cut him off with a soft laugh.

"Oh relax, Adrian," i said smoothly. "Why do you look so uncomfortable? I'm only remembering the past. Or should I pretend it never happened?"

Amanda slammed her glass down.

"That's enough—"

But Adrian suddenly pushed his chair back.

The loud scrape of wood against marble echoed through the room.

"I need some air," he muttered, his voice tight.

Without looking at anyone, he turned and walked out of the dining hall.

The silence he left behind was thick.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then i calmly lifted my glass again and took another sip.

Across the table, Alessandro leaned back in his chair, watching me with an unreadable expression.

And then—

He smiled.

It wasn't mocking.

It wasn't cruel.

It was something darker.

Something approving.

Lucas the Butler noticed it too and chuckled quietly under his breath.

"Well," he murmured, glancing between them, "look at that."

Alessandro's eyes never left Mine.

A slow satisfaction settled in his voice as he said quietly,

"She's finally becoming the woman I wanted her to be."

I heard the words.

But i didn't look at him.

I simply took another sip of my wine, my expression calm — though inside, my heart was still learning how to turn pain into power.

The dinner was finally over.

I had reached my limit—high, dizzy, and unable to control myself any longer. Alessandro carried me to my room, his presence burning in my mind. Just as he turned to leave, I grabbed him by the neck, holding him close. His figure from earlier consumed my thoughts, and all I could want was for him to screw me like he did his w****—no control, no shame.

I pressed my lips to his. His eyes widened, surprised by my boldness. He pulled back slightly. "You're drunk. You don't even know what you're doing," he said.

"I don't care," I murmured, voice low and desperate. "All I want is you, I want you to f**k me."

He hesitated, shocked by my insistence, but I leaned in closer. "If you won't… I'll take a cab. I'll find someone who will do exactly what I want, right now," I threatened, breathless.

Before I could finish, he silenced me with a hard, scorching kiss, his hands gripping me as he pressed me to him. It wasn't gentle, it wasn't love—it was raw, possessive, and exactly what I craved.

Everything else disappeared. The rough intensity, the heat, the control—it all consumed me. He took me like only he could, like I was his w****, and my moans echoed in the room. When it was over, he bathed me, and I drifted into sleep with his arms holding me tight, the only security I could find.

Morning came too quickly. I woke, my body aching in every muscle, only to see Alessandro sitting on the chair beside the bed, calm and watchful.

"What… what happened?" I asked, still groggy, my voice trembling.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. "Do you mean to tell me you don't remember anything?"