chapter five : A glimpse into the abyss
706 Words
The Morning After
Serena woke to the feeling of cold steel brushing against her wrist.
Her breath hitched as her eyes flew open.
Handcuffs.
A thick silver chain connected her to the massive bedpost, ensuring she couldn't take more than a few steps.
She yanked at the restraint, panic rising.
No. No. No.
The events of the previous night came crashing down.
Her failed escape. Alessio’s punishment. The moment he left her with a warning that still echoed in her mind.
"If you ever try to run again… you won’t like what happens next."
Serena swallowed hard.
The lock clicked, and the door swung open.
Alessio stood there, towering, freshly dressed in a dark suit, his presence suffocating.
His eyes swept over her—from the defiance in her glare to the restraint around her wrist.
Then he smirked.
"Good morning, dolcezza."
---
A Forced Outing
Serena sat in the backseat of the black Maserati, her hands tightly clasped in her lap.
She didn’t know where he was taking her.
Alessio sat beside her, exuding pure dominance, one hand casually resting on his thigh, the other tapping against the car’s leather interior.
"Why am I here?" she finally asked.
He turned his head slightly, amusement flickering in his emerald eyes.
"You need to see the world you're part of now," he said smoothly.
Serena's stomach twisted.
They pulled up to an opulent casino, men in suits guarding the entrance like wolves protecting their territory.
Alessio stepped out first.
When Serena hesitated, his hand wrapped around her wrist—not painfully, but with a grip that left no room for argument.
"Walk," he ordered.
Inside, the air was thick with cigar smoke and the scent of power. Danger clung to every person in the room.
Serena's skin prickled.
Alessio led her through the casino with undeniable authority. Men greeted him with deference, fear flickering in their eyes.
She realized, then, that Alessio wasn't just powerful—he was feared.
---
The Debt Collector
A man was dragged before them, his face bloodied and bruised.
Serena took a sharp step back.
"Please," the man choked out. "I—I just need more time—"
Alessio pulled a chair from the table and sat down like a king at his throne.
He sighed, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.
"I gave you six months," he said, his voice eerily calm.
The man trembled. "I swear, I—"
A single nod from Alessio, and one of his men stepped forward.
A sickening crack filled the air.
The man screamed, clutching his now broken fingers.
Serena whipped her head away, her stomach churning.
But Alessio caught her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look.
"Don’t look away, dolcezza."
Serena's breath shook.
"You want to run from me?" he murmured. "Then you should understand what happens to those who cross me."
Serena bit her lip hard, trying to suppress the rising nausea.
Alessio’s gaze softened, just slightly.
"You're learning."
---
A Night of Unwanted Attention
Hours passed before they returned to the Ricci estate.
Serena’s body ached from exhaustion, but the tension in her chest refused to fade.
As soon as they stepped inside, Alessio’s men greeted them with murmured “Boss” and brief nods.
One man, Matteo, smirked at Serena.
"Did she behave, Capo?"
Serena stiffened.
Alessio’s arm suddenly wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him possessively.
"She’s learning," he murmured.
Matteo’s gaze flickered over Serena in a way that made her skin crawl.
Alessio noticed.
His grip on Serena tightened.
“Eyes off,” he warned, voice deadly.
Matteo chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.
"Relax, boss. Just admiring your taste."
Alessio’s expression turned cold.
The temperature in the room dropped.
"You don’t admire what belongs to me," Alessio said softly.
A beat of silence.
Then—Alessio struck so fast, so violently that Serena barely had time to gasp.
Matteo staggered back, blood dripping from his split lip.
No one dared to speak.
Alessio didn’t move, his eyes dangerous, his message clear.
Serena’s pulse hammered.
Because in that moment, she realized—
Alessio wasn’t just possessive.
He was obsessed.
And she wasn’t sure if that was more terrifying… or more dangerous.
- Writer
