You’re my Medicine.

You’re my Medicine.
Alice’s POV.

I brought the spoon to his lips, my hand trembling like a leaf.

He noticed.

Without breaking eye contact, his hand wrapped around my wrist—firm, warm, and possessive. The sudden contact froze me, my breath catching as I drowned in the storm of his gaze. 

I barely noticed when he swallowed the broth, his eyes never breaking from mine, pulling me into a world where only we existed.

“More, Alice,” he requested, his voice low and rough, snapping me out of my trance.

I swallowed hard, tearing my gaze away, heat creeping up my neck. 

“Sorry,” I mumbled, scooping another spoonful and feeding him, my movements mechanical to mask the tension coiling in my chest.

He ate in silence—but never stopped looking at me. 

When he finished, I exhaled in relief. 

Finally, I could escape this suffocating tension.

“I’ll take this to the kitchen,” I said, rising with the tray too quickly.

Before I could take a step, his hand shot out, seizing my wrist and pinning me back to the bed. 

“Leave it,” he growled, his eyes flickering to Reid, who stood in the doorway, his hard gaze boring into us. 

My heart thudded, panic rising. 

How am I going to face Tiberio now? His rule—Stay away from Silas—echoed in my mind, and I knew Reid’s report would seal my fate.

“Chiudi la porta,” he said in a clipped tone—Italian, but the intent was clear. 

(Shut it)

I glanced at Reid, his hesitation palpable, his jaw tight. 

“But…” he started, but Silas’s growl cut him off, a warning that promised chaos if disobeyed.

“Reid,” Silas warned again.

That one word held weight. Reid blinked once, then moved like a machine, obeying without another word.

And just like that, we were alone.

I didn’t know how to breathe, much less move. My nerves felt like a live wire under Silas’s unwavering stare.

He reached out slowly, brushing his fingers against my cheek. I flinched, but I didn’t pull away.

“You’re not from Milan, Alice,” he said softly, his thumb lingering just beneath my jaw.

I kept my gaze glued to anything but his face. 

“No. I just moved a few days ago.”

He studied me for a long moment, then leaned back against the headboard, putting just enough space between us to make it feel comfortable.

“Why did you come here?” He asked. 

That question again. First Tiberio. Now him.

But Silas didn’t seem like he was interrogating me. He sounded… curious. Like he wanted to know me.

“I wanted a fresh start,” I murmured, eyes dropping to my lap. “Venice held too many memories.”

Silas was quiet.

Then his fingers returned to my cheek again, coaxing my gaze up.

“Alice,” he called. “You’re talking to me. Not the carpet.”

I froze. And then—reluctantly—I looked into his eyes.

A smile flickered across his lips. “Good girl.”

Those words—simple and low—did something to me I didn’t want to admit, but I quickly shoved it aside.

“Now,” he continued, “what made you think Milan was the right place to run to?” He pressed, his brows furrowing with genuine interest.

I gave a soft shrug. “I don’t know. It just… felt right.”

“But Venice?” He prodded gently. “Did something happen there? Who are you running from?”

I smiled faintly, the edges brittle. “No one. Just… painful memories.”

Knowing the DeVescori brothers, I doubted he’d let it go. He’d press until I cracked. So I did the only thing I could think of—changed the subject.

“So…” I cleared my throat. “Why did you want me to sing for you? Why me?”

His answer came without hesitation.

“Because your voice silences his voice.”

I blinked. “His voice?”

He nodded. 

“No pill, no therapy has ever worked. But you—your voice does something nothing else has.”

I stared at him, stunned.

“I need you, Alice,” he said simply.

His words hit like a shockwave, raw and unguarded, leaving me speechless. 

“Huh?” I stammered, but before I could process, he tugged my wrist, pulling me into his chest. 

I gasped, landing against his hard frame, my hands splayed on his shirt, his heartbeat steady beneath my palms.

His eyes scanned my face, lingering on my eyes, then dropping to my lips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm, his lips inches from mine. 

One wrong move, and we’d cross a line I wasn’t ready for.

Tiberio’s image burned in my mind, his eyes, his cruel smirk. 

This felt like betrayal, but why? He’d been nothing but cruel, a monster, yet my heart thumped for him, not Silas, whose gentleness should’ve won me over. 

What’s wrong with me? I thought, trapped in Silas’s gaze, his fingers now firm on my neck, holding me in place. I wanted to pull away, but his eyes held my willpower hostage, a magnetic pull I couldn’t break.

“I want to hear your voice every second of the day,” Silas murmured, his fingers curling at my nape. 

“You’re more than a lullaby. You’re my medicine, Alice.”

I was frozen. Unable to respond. 

I prayed for an interruption—Reid, Calla, anyone to save me from Silas, from these brothers, from myself. 

Then, a deafening boom shattered the moment, gunfire erupting closer, as if the war had breached the mansion’s walls. 

Silas tensed beneath me, his body snapping into soldier mode. He stood quickly and stepped out to investigate.

I followed him with my eyes, heart hammering.

“Stay in the room,” he commanded sharply.

“W-why?” I stammered.

He looked over his shoulder, eyes fierce. “Do as I say, Alice.” He hissed out, and disappeared.

The silence after his departure was deafening. My palms were slick with sweat, though the room was cold. 

I paced back and forth, trying to keep my panic at bay.

Minutes passed—maybe hours. I couldn’t tell anymore. But eventually, I cracked.

I crept to the door, easing it open, my heart hammering as I stepped into the hallway. 

Angry voices drifted from the living room downstairs. They were speaking Italian, but I could make out pieces.

I kept my footsteps light, my bare feet silent on the marble. As I neared the staircase, I crouched behind a pillar, straining to hear.

“I can’t believe this,” a man seethed, his voice thick with frustration. “All this time, his spy was in our camp, and we didn’t know?”

My pulse quickened. None of the voices were Tiberio’s or Silas’s. 

I edged closer, peering through the banister, catching sight of Reid and a handful of armed guards, their faces grim, weapons drawn. 

A man I didn’t recognize, older, with silver hair and a tailored suit, stood among them.

“Tiberio, this was highly unexpected,” the older man said, disappointment lacing his words.

I scoffed inwardly. So the bad boss has a bigger boss? The thought was almost satisfying, imagining Tiberio scolded. 

Maybe this was an uncle or cousin, someone with more power.

“You didn’t expect me to know, zio Antonio,” he said tightly. “We had dozens of new entries during the adult film campaign last month. No one thought to vet them.”

Adult film campaign? That is porn? 

My skin crawled.

Then I heard it.

“Reid,” Tiberio called, his voice like steel. “I want everything on Yvonne Sterling. Her family, her background—everything. I’ll show her what it means to cross me.”

“Yvonne?” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, shock coursing through me. 

Not Thorne, the name I’d known her by, but Sterling—Rick’s last name. 

My mind reeled, the pieces of their betrayal snapping together, sharper and more sinister than I’d ever imagined.