Page 40 of Beneath the Shadows

His eyes darken, filled with something dangerous. “You think Valentino’s ruthless? He’s nothing compared to me. I’ve done things, Alessia—things you couldn’t even imagine. I kill and torture without a second thought. You see the monster your husband is, but I’m worse. I don’t hesitate. I don’t flinch. I do whatever needs to be done, no matter how dirty or brutal.”

He takes a step closer, his voice low, cold. “You think there’s still some part of me that’s good? That’s kind? There isn’t. That boy you remember, he’s dead.”

His words crash over me like a tidal wave. I realize I don’t know the man standing in front of me. He’s painting himself as a monster, a killer—someone far removed from the Antonio I once loved. I search his face, desperate to see something, anything that says he’s lying, that this is just another wall he’s built around himself.

But all I see is a man who’s lost himself to the darkness.

Antonio

I watch the pain ripple through her body. The hurt flashing in her eyes—the hurt I put there. Her shoulders sag, the life draining from her posture, and I realize just how much damage I’ve done. I should feel something, regret or guilt, but I don’t allow myself to feel anything. This is how it has to be.

“Let’s go,” I mutter, breaking the silence that’s suffocating us both. “Valentino’s going to be looking for you.”

She doesn’t respond. Just follows me, her movements stiff, like the weight of my words is physically dragging her down.

I try not to think about the way she looked at me like I was a stranger—like she didn’t recognize the person standing in front of her. But I can’t shake the image of her face, the way her lips pressed together to stop whatever she wanted to say. The way her hands trembled, just slightly, as if she was holding back more than words.

We reach the house, and I stop, watching her as she hesitates on the doorstep. Her hand lingers on the handle for a moment before she finally turns to me, her eyes still filled with that same hurt, that same desperate need for answers. But I don’t give her any. I can’t.

“We need to go inside," I tell her, my voice cold. "Valentino’s waiting."

She nods, her face blank now as if she’s built her own wall, protecting herself from the truth I’ve just handed her. Without another word, she opens the door and steps inside. I follow behind and find Valentino waiting for us in the foyer, his usual arrogance replaced by something more dangerous.

"Alessia," he barks, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Go up to our room. Now."

Alessia turns to me as if she’s looking for some kind of reassurance. I keep my face impassive, giving her nothing. Her shoulders slump as she turns toward the stairs. I watch her retreat, the knot in my stomach tightening. Valentino’s temper is volatile, and that unpredictability unnerves me more than I care to admit.

Once Alessia’s out of earshot, Valentino turns his piercing gaze on me. "Antonio," he begins in a low, commanding tone, "From now on, Alessia does not leave this house without my explicit permission. Understood?"

I meet his gaze evenly, though inwardly, I bristle at the command. "Has there been a threat against Alessia that I need to be aware of?” I ask, although I know his orders are less about danger and more about control.

He lets out a sigh, his frustration evident. "Alessia’s reckless. Headstrong. She doesn’t understand her place by my side yet. Her defiance makes me look weak, and I won’t tolerate that.”

I bite back the response I want to give, instead offering the one I know he expects. "Whatever you think is best."

"Good," he replies, satisfied. "I’m counting on you, Antonio. I can’t afford distractions right now.”

"You know I always have your back," I assure him, keeping my tone neutral despite the unease gnawing at me.

Valentino waves me off, already done with the conversation. “You’re free to go. I won’t be needing you tonight.” His voice drops to a murmur as he strides purposefully toward the stairs. “I need to teach my wife a lesson about disrespecting me in public.”

I stare after him, a chill creeping up my spine. The air is thick, charged with something dark and heavy. I glance up the staircase, fighting every instinct to intervene, to protect Alessia, but knowing there’s not a damn thing I can do.

This is the life I’ve chosen—this world where loyalty outweighs conscience. Where crossing the wrong line means risking everything. For now, I have to follow Valentino’s orders. But that doesn’t stop the gnawing doubt, the slow realization that I’ve turned into someone I swore I’d never become.

Alessia

He sent me to my room like I was a child. But what really upsets me is that I listened to him. I should’ve stood my ground. Instead, I obeyed. Why? Because I didn’t want to cause another scene in front of Antonio. He’s Val’s cousin—his most trusted associate. As much as I want out of this nightmare of a marriage, the last thing I want is to be the reason for tension or a fight between them.

Valentino’s footsteps grow louder, each one sending a fresh wave of dread through me. I know what’s coming—another one of his lessons. It’s not the first, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. The door creaks open, and Val steps inside, a wooden paddle gripped in his hand.

“Why are your clothes still on?” he asks, his tone demanding.

I meet his stare, refusing to flinch.

“Answer me, Alessia.”

I force down the bile rising in my throat. I can do this. I refuse to let him see me cower. “You only told me to go to our room,” I say, trying to sound sweet. “You didn’t tell me to undress, and I didn’t want to disobey you.”

---