Chapter Four: Blood Price
1365 Words
The silence in the car was suffocating.
Alessio’s jaw clenched tight enough to crack a bone as the black SUV drove through Milan’s ancient streets. His men sat stone-faced around him–armed–ready—but his mind was consumed by one image:
Nico
Taped. Crying. Alone.
His son.
His f*****g son.
He didn’t need a paternity test anymore. The drawing, the eyes, the goddamn dimple—it was all there. And Isobel….she had kept him hidden. Raised his child without him. Lied, vanished, and now—someone had taken that boy like he wasn’t flesh of his flesh.
Alessio would burn the city for answers.
“Boss,” Gino said beside him, checking the GPS ping. “Signal’s active. Warehouse on the edge of the old docks.”
Alessio nodded once, rage simmering beneath every controlled breath. He was ready to kill.
No negotiations.
No deals.
No mercy.
……
Meanwhile across the town Isobel dropped the burner phone on the floor as the call ended and collapsed into the leather seat of a private plane’s waiting lounge. Her hands shook. Her vision swam.
They’d taken him.
Nico.
Her baby. Her entire world. Gone.
She should’ve never come back to Milan. She should’ve never gone to that gallery. Should’ve never let Alessio touch her again—no matter how much her body had begged for him.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
>”He’s alive for now. Ricci’s coming. I suggest you do the same.”
She stood for a while ... .her chest was beating like a drum that she could hear the sound it made.
The message wasn’t just a warning.
It was a summon….that will cause chaos.
…….
At the warehouse—thirty minutes later.
The doors blew open with a thunderous crash. Sending echoes and shimmers around the warehouse.
Alessio stormed in like the f*****g reaper he is.
A dozen men followed, guns raised. But he didn’t wait. His steps echoed with lethal purpose, a long coat flaring behind him like a black wing. Blood was already in his mouth, eyes and hands—and he hadn’t even killed anyone yet.
A scream echoed down the corridor.
Nico. His son.
He turned sharply, heart pounding.
And then he saw him—strapped to a wooden chair, tear-streaked face staring up at the masked man holding a gun.
“Let the boy go,” Alessio said coldly, stepping forward. “And I’ll make your death quick.”
The man sneered under the mask. “You killed my brother. This is justice.”
Alessio didn’t flinch. He gave out a sarcastic smile and faced the masked man with bloody eyes.
“You kidnapped a Ricci heir,” he said calmly, “And you’ve stressed him alot,” he added, leveling the barrel of his pistol between the man’s eyes. “ That's a death sentence in any language.”
Then one shot. Boom!!!!
The man’s head snapped back, blood painting the wall. He dropped on his knees before he even hit the ground.
Alessio was already at Nico’s side, ripping the tape from his mouth, cutting his hands free.
Nico blinked up at him. “You’re.….real?” he said with a hoarse voice and tears in his eyes.
Alessio stared at the boy—his boy—eyes softening for the first time in years.
“Yeah, kid,” he rasped. “I’m real.”
Then the door burst open again.
Isobel.
Hair wild, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing as she ran in–gun drawn, panic bleeding from every step.
“Nico!”
Her scream tore through the room as she rushed to the boy and pulled him into her arms.
Alessio stared at her.
She looked like a fallen angel—devastated, maternal, breathtaking. And for the first time, he didn’t just want to punish her.
He wanted to understand.
“Why?” he asked softly.
She didn’t answer. She was too busy sobbing into Nico’s hair.
He stepped forward. “Why the f**k did you leave me? Why didn’t you tell me he was mine?”
Her eyes snapped to him. “You don’t get to ask that.”
“I do now,” he said, voice cracking with restraint. “You kept my son. You lied. You let me believe you were dead.”
“Because if i’d stayed,” she hissed, standing to face him, “they would’ve killed me—and him.”
Her hands were trembling now. “You think I wanted to disappear? You think I didn't die every day without you?”
He stepped closer. “Then why run again after Milan?”
“Because I slept with the man who ruined my life,” she whispered, tears falling now. “And I couldn't look in the mirror knowing I still wanted him.”
Their breath mingled.
Nico stood watching them silently, his eyes were moving from one to the other.
Alessio’s hand reached out slowly, brushing her cheek.
She flinched but didn’t pull away.
“You still want me,” he whispered darkly. “Say it.”
“No.” she said sharply.
“Liar.”
He kissed her hard.
They were about to drive into pleasure, but the sound of Gino’s footsteps interrupted them. “Sorry boss, we checked the footage and he wasn’t here alone and that means more of his men are coming. So we need to leave now.” he said softly.
“Take Nico to the car with you and wait for me…” he said, turning to Isobel with a raw raged eyes. “I have to finish up with something.”
Isobel kissed her son’s hands and gave him to Gino. “follow this man to the car, amore, i will be with you shortly.” she said calmly to Nico who nodded and obeyed.
And just as they stepped away, Alessio crashed his mouth on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was war and punishment and pent-up lust from six years of nightmares. Her mouth yielded instantly, lips parting, body pressing into his.
And she hated herself for it. She hated how her body reacted.
Because the heat surged up her thighs again, the hunger flared to life like it never left.
He lifted her by the thighs—she wrapped her legs around him—and slammed her back into the nearest metal wall.
Her dress clung at her waist.
She wore no panties.
His c**k throbbed hard in his pants as he rubbed against her soaked slit, teasing the tip against her entrance.
“Alessio….” she gasped. “Not here….”
She choked on a scream.
Her p***y clenched around his c**k, hot wet and made for him. He began thrusting immediately, fast and merciless. Her breast bounced with every stroke, n*****s stiff against the fabric.
He f****d her like he was reclaiming every stolen second.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning, back arching. “God ….harder….faster….ooh Alessio..”
His hand found her throat, not choking—but claiming. His c**k pounded into her with raw need, his release building.
“Say you’re mine,” he growled.
“No.”
He thrust deeper.
“Say it.”
“I….”
He curved upwards and rubbed her c**t, and she shattered—her orgasm crashing through her like a wave. She clenched, cried out, and came hard.
Her c*m coated his d**k in hot, sticky waves.
Then he exploded inside her.
He didn’t pull out. He painted her womb with thick, hot seed again, cursing into her neck. “Fuucckk….urghhh..” he screamed.
When he finally stilled, they were breathless. Dripping. Joined.
Isobel’s head dropped to his shoulder, shivering.
And then—
A single gunshot cracked through the room.
Isobel screamed.
Alessio turned sharply, pulling out of her, c**k still semi-hard and dripping with c*m. He shielded her with his body.
The body of one of his guards fell on the floor behind them—a bullet straight through his skull.
A voice echoed from the dark hallway.
“I told you if you didn’t come alone, I'd kill them.”
Alessio’s blood turned to ice.
He recognized the voice.
His brother.
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