Ally or Enemy?
Ally or Enemy?
Alice’s Point of View
Reid’s eyes never left the door. He stood like a sentinel outside Silas’s room, unmoving, watchful. Like he was guarding a vault instead of a man in asleep and a hopeless woman.
His hawk-like stare grated on my nerves, a constant reminder of my captivity, and I itched to slam the door in his face, to block out that predatory gaze.
But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—dare.
Reid was Tiberio’s right hand, molded by years of ruthless loyalty to the devil himself. Years under that devil had carved the empathy out of him. He wouldn’t flinch pulling the trigger on me if it came to it.
And I knew he’d sooner die than defy his Don.
I sighed—again—for the umpteenth time that night.
Silas, still sprawled across the bed, slept peacefully, his chest rising and falling with soft, steady breaths.
A part of me selfishly hoped he’d stay asleep until it all died died down. That the chaos raging outside—the gunfire, the war—wouldn’t rouse him.
If he woke, those gray eyes, haunted yet magnetic, would pull me under their spell again, and I’d be trapped, teetering on the edge of breaking Tiberio’s one rule. And that’s something I couldn’t afford—not again.
Silas’s room was suffocatingly bland. No color. No music. No television—it had been one of the things he destroyed during one of his violent episodes.
The walls were too quiet. Too still, and it was killing me.
I rose to my feet, hoping to shake the restless energy off. Immediately, Reid’s eyes snapped to me.
I held my hands up and groaned, “Relax. I’m just going to the balcony.”
He stepped forward, his hand twitching near his holster.
“You can’t.”
My brow shot up. “It’s just the balcony, not a war zone.”
His jaw ticked, the only visible sign of annoyance.
“Miss Alice,” he called, calm but razor-sharp.
“A sniper doesn’t care if it’s a balcony. One shot through a scope is all it takes. You may not fear for your life, but I won’t be the one explaining to Tiberio why you’re lying in a pool of blood. So—no.”
I let out an exasperated sigh and dropped back into the chair like a grounded child.
“So what exactly am I supposed to do in here? Babysit a man who’s not even conscious?”
He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. Men like Reid weren’t programmed for comfort or conversation.
I leaned my head back, letting the silence swallow me whole.
Left to my thoughts, my mind scattered, restless and untethered, until it snagged on a truth I’d buried under the chaos of my captivity: I hadn’t planned my revenge against Rick and Yvonne.
Their betrayal had shattered my life, led me to this hellhole, and yet I had no strategy, no path to make them pay.
If I ever broke free from Tiberio’s grip, how would I do it? Where would I even start? The thought of facing them alone, without resources or allies, felt like staring into an abyss.
Could I make a deal with Tiberio? The idea flickered, then died just as quickly. No, he’d never help me.
The man loathed me, his every word dripping with disdain, and even if he agreed, the price would be my soul. The devil didn’t bargain lightly, and owing Tiberio anything would chain me to him forever.
I shuddered, the memory of his lips brushing mine in the hallway flashing through me, stirring a heat I despised myself for feeling.
Focus, Alice, I chided, shoving the thought away.
But maybe…
My gaze drifted to Silas.
Lots of questions and thoughts swam in my head.
Could he be my ally? Was he as powerful as his brother? Or just a shadow with a famous last name and broken mind?
Would he, too, demand a price I couldn’t pay?
His vulnerability earlier, the way he’d clung to me, suggested a man capable of softness, but he was still a DEVescori—a mafia lord with blood on his hands, just like his brother.
There was only one way to find out: If Silas woke up—and if I could reach whatever part of him wasn’t completely shattered—I might be able to rewrite the rules of this game.
But I’d need to play it very carefully. Because whether it was Tiberio, Silas… or the ghosts of my past, everyone wanted a piece of me.
And I was done being owned.