His sin, Her salvation

Chapter eighteen

The silence in the mansion was suffocating.

A single breath, a single heartbeat before the storm.

Then—

CRASH!

The heavy oak desk flipped over with a deafening bang, papers and glass shattering upon impact. Alessio’s breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling with barely contained fury. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to destroy more—to ruin everything just as she had ruined his control.

She was gone.

He had checked the cameras again and again, watching her slip through his grip like a ghost in the night. The fact that she had made it out, despite his watchful eyes, despite his guards, despite everything, made his blood boil.

A guard stood frozen near the door, awaiting orders, knowing the cost of failure.

"How?!" Alessio's voice was razor-sharp, cutting through the tension in the air like a blade. His dark eyes burned into the man before him. "How the f**k did you let this happen?"

The guard swallowed hard, his pulse visibly hammering against his throat. "W-We don’t know, Boss. She—she must have planned it for weeks. The cameras—"

"I saw the cameras." Alessio’s tone was pure venom. "She played you all for fools."

A chair went flying, crashing into the marble walls, leaving deep dents. Another glass of whiskey met the floor, the amber liquid staining the pristine surface.

"Find her." His voice was deadly quiet now, more dangerous than his earlier fury. "Search every city, every border. I want her back."

The guard flinched. "Yes, Boss. We’ll start immediately."

They scrambled out, leaving Alessio alone in the wreckage of his rage.

He ran a hand through his hair, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists.

She was out there.

Breathing, living, free.

And that—that was unacceptable.

No matter where she ran, no matter how far she thought she had escaped—

She belonged to him.

✦✦✦

The black SUV pulled up in front of the worn-down house, its tires crunching over loose gravel. Alessio stepped out, his presence alone suffocating the very air around him. Dressed in all black, his tailored suit was a stark contrast to the poverty-stricken home before him. His men flanked him, their expressions stone-cold as they awaited orders.

He didn’t knock.

The front door was kicked open with a brutal force, slamming against the wall and rattling on its weak hinges. Inside, the dimly lit living room smelled of stale air and alcohol. Pathetic.

A frail, aging man sat hunched over on a wooden chair, startled by the sudden intrusion. His once-proud features were now weary and lifeless, deep lines carved into his face. But when his cloudy eyes lifted and met Alessio’s, there was a flicker of recognition—and fear.

"Where is she?" Alessio’s voice was like a death knell.

Serena’s father stiffened, his trembling hands gripping the armrests of his chair. "I—I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Alessio exhaled slowly, his patience running razor-thin. "I don’t like repeating myself, old man." He took a step closer, towering over him like a shadow of death. "Your daughter. Where is she?"

The man’s lips pressed together, his jaw tightening. Defiance.

A smirk tugged at Alessio’s lips—wrong answer.

Without warning, he grabbed the frail man by the collar, yanking him up with frightening ease. "You think I’m here to play games?" he hissed, his grip tightening around the old man’s throat. "She disappeared under my watch. You’re her only blood. Do you really expect me to believe you don’t know where she is?"

The old man gasped for air, clawing at Alessio’s iron grip. "I—swear—I don’t—"

A harsh punch to the gut silenced him, sending him crashing to the ground in a choking fit. Alessio loomed over him, watching in disgust as he coughed violently.

"I should kill you for raising such a disobedient little thing," Alessio murmured, his voice eerily calm. "Maybe then, wherever she is, she’ll finally understand that running from me comes at a price."

The old man’s eyes widened in horror. "No—please—"

The plea fell on deaf ears.

A single nod from Alessio, and the sharp crack of a gunshot echoed through the house.

The body slumped to the floor, blood pooling beneath it.

Alessio adjusted his cufflinks, indifferent to the corpse at his feet. "Burn it down," he ordered his men before turning away.

As the flames engulfed the house behind him, he stepped into his car, his jaw tightening.

She was running.

But no matter where she hid, no matter who helped her—

She would learn that no one escapes Alessio DeLuca.

The air inside the grand estate was thick with tension. Every single man in the room stood on edge, their gazes cast downward, avoiding the piercing rage burning in their boss’s eyes. The atmosphere crackled with something dangerous—pure, unfiltered wrath.

Alessio stood in the center of his office, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His chest rose and fell with the weight of his fury, the muscles in his jaw tightening until it ached. Days. It had been days since Serena disappeared, and yet, his best men—his most skilled trackers, the ones who had hunted down the most elusive of enemies—came back empty-handed.

Unacceptable.

The lead tracker, Marco, swallowed hard before daring to speak. "Boss, we searched every possible route—checked the security footage, combed through the nearest towns—but she’s... gone."

Alessio’s head tilted slightly, his dark gaze lifting to meet Marco’s. "Gone?" His voice was quiet. Too quiet.

A deadly calm before the storm.

Marco shifted uncomfortably. "W-we’ll keep looking. We just need more time—"

CRASH!

Before he could finish, Alessio grabbed the nearest whiskey glass from his desk and hurled it across the room, shattering it against the marble wall. The sound echoed like a gunshot, making every man flinch.

"Time?" Alessio’s voice was a low growl, vibrating with barely contained violence. He stalked toward Marco, his presence suffocating. "She was locked under my roof. Under my control. And she still managed to slip away. You—" He jabbed a finger into Marco’s chest. "—were supposed to make sure that never happened."

Marco’s face paled. "Boss, I—"

A fist flew.

Alessio’s knuckles connected with Marco’s jaw in a brutal strike, sending the man crashing into the nearby desk. Blood dribbled from his lip as he groaned in pain, but Alessio wasn’t finished.

"You were supposed to be the best," Alessio snarled, grabbing Marco by the collar and slamming him against the desk again. Papers scattered, a lamp toppled, the wood groaning under the force. "And yet, an innocent little girl outsmarted you?"

"Boss—please!" Marco gasped.

But Alessio wasn’t listening. He was seeing red.

With ruthless precision, he delivered a knee to Marco’s ribs, making him choke out a pained wheeze. The other guards stood frozen, unwilling to intervene. They all knew—when Alessio DeLuca was in this state, no one could stop him.

Breathing heavily, Alessio released Marco, letting him crumble to the ground in a heap. "If you can’t find her..." His voice was like ice, deadly and absolute. "Then you are of no use to me."

His fingers twitched at his side, aching to pull out his gun, to end the incompetence before him. But no—killing his own men wouldn’t bring Serena back.

Instead, he turned to the rest of his men, his gaze sharp, cutting. "Listen to me, and listen well," he said, his voice carrying over the tension in the room. "I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care how far you have to go. Find her." His jaw clenched. "Because if you fail me again..." He let the unspoken threat hang in the air.

The men nodded vigorously. "Yes, Boss!"

Alessio exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his patience worn thin. His mind was a storm of chaos.

She had run from him.

She thought she had won.

But he would make sure she learned something very, very soon—

No one escapes Alessio DeLuca. Not for long.