Chapter 4

Alessio's POV

I gripped the photograph in my hands, my vision blurring with rage. Angel D'Souza was not Alessandro King's daughter.

Lucas had gotten the wrong girl.

A mistake.

A fucking mistake.

And because of that mistake, she had suffered.

I closed my eyes, but it only made things worse. Her fragile body flashed in front of me like a haunting, like a curse I could never escape.

The bruises on her delicate skin. The deep, angry cuts marring her face. The trembling in her small frame whenever someone so much as entered the room.

She flinched. Every time. She feared us.

And she never should have.

An angel, torn apart in the depths of hell.

And for what? A lie. A fucking lie.

My chest tightened in a way I wasn't used to, something unfamiliar clawing at the edges of my cold, unfeeling heart.

Regret?

No.

Rage.

Rage at the ones who did this to her. Rage at myself for letting it happen.

I had never cared about innocence before. But as I pictured those green, tear-filled eyes looking up at me, breaking apart with every breath—I knew she never deserved this.

I clenched my jaw, my voice like ice as I turned to my men.

"Send Lucas."

The room stilled, a sharp silence cutting through the air. They knew what that meant.

"My baby brother needs to be punished."

Author's POV

Lucas stood frozen, his breath caught somewhere between his chest and throat. His eyes fixated on the photograph—the photograph of the girl he was supposed to interrogate.

But it wasn't her.

His heart pounded violently, the sound of it deafening in his ears. The wrong girl.

Memories crashed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him.

The screams. Her screams.

The way her voice had cracked as she begged him to stop.

The way she had flinched at his presence, her innocent eyes widening in fear, too terrified to even meet his gaze.

His loud voice had shaken her. And he had used it—again and again, twisting the knife deeper into her fear.

She had been beautiful when he first saw her. Delicate, almost otherworldly. Flawless fair skin, a single tiny mole on her cheek, eyes that held the kind of innocence he had long forgotten existed.

And now?

Now, her skin was marred by his own hands. His own hands.

Cuts. Bruises. Blood.

All because of him.

Her voice echoed in his mind, fragile, broken, trembling with something he hadn't recognized at the time—hopelessness.

"Did I… do something to deserve this?"

A sharp crack shattered his thoughts as a brutal punch landed on his face. His head snapped to the side, a sharp metallic taste coating his tongue.

But he didn't react.

He couldn't.

Because he deserved this.

Another blow.

And another.

But Alessio's punches were nothing compared to the unbearable weight suffocating his soul.

"Get out."

Alessio's voice was low, but it dripped with venom, with disgust, with a rage that could burn everything in its path.

Lucas didn't move.

"I don't want to see your face."

This time, his feet moved on their own. He walked out, leaving behind the brother who once protected him, the man he had wanted to become.

But what was he now?

A monster.

A monster who had destroyed an angel.

Angel's POV

The door creaked open, and I flinched instinctively, my body tensing as fear slithered through my veins. My breathing hitched, my pulse erratic as I looked up.

Lucifer.

A shiver ran down my spine.

He stepped toward me, and for a moment, my heart stopped.

I shrank back, pressing myself against the cold, unforgiving wall, bracing for the worst. But then, he knelt—his hands reaching for mine. My brows furrowed in confusion as I felt the pressure on my wrists ease.

The ropes loosened.

He was untying me.

My lips parted in shock as I glanced down at my bruised wrists, raw and aching from the days of captivity. Why? Why was he doing this? My breath trembled as I stared at him untying my feet. Was he taking me somewhere else? Would he hurt me more?

"Please… don't hurt me," I whispered, my voice barely audible, my fear bleeding through every word.

His dark eyes flickered with something—an emotion I couldn't recognize. Something softer.

"I won't, Angel." His voice, usually sharp and cold, was gentle. Deep. Soothing.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling in my lap. Could I trust him?

"Let me get you out of here, okay?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know if I could.

"Are you scared?" he asked, softer this time.

I nodded slowly.

He knelt before me again, his large hands wrapping around my wrists—carefully, as if afraid I might break.

A sharp sting shot through me at his touch, but he didn't flinch. Instead, his thumbs traced the unmarred skin between the bruises, so, so gently.

"Breathe, hm?" he murmured.

I obeyed. But the fear? The fear was still there. The past days had been nothing but fear. How could I let go of it so easily?

"Angel."

He called me softly—too softly for a monster.

I met his gaze, hesitant, and he reached for something.

A knife.

My heart stopped.

He took my trembling hands, placed the cold metal in my palms. I barely breathed as I looked at it, then at him.

"If you feel even a little bit scared, use it, hm?"

My breath hitched. No.

"No, it will hurt you," I whispered.

He smiled. A small, tired, almost broken smile.

"Use it, Angel." His thumb stroked my wrist again, a silent reassurance. "If you feel unsafe, use it."

"But…"

He shushed me with a single look, his touch never leaving mine.

"Be good."

My lips trembled, but I nodded. Because what else could I do?

His hand left mine as he stood, towering over me.

"I'll have to pick you up, okay?"

I hesitated.

"I'm heavy," I mumbled, my voice laced with exhaustion.

For the first time, something flickered in his eyes—amusement.

"You're not," he countered, slipping his arms under me, lifting me effortlessly.

A startled gasp left my lips as I clung to him on instinct.

"You weigh as much as a toddler."

A pout formed on my lips, my exhaustion making me bolder.

"Haww."

A deep chuckle vibrated through his chest. And then, his voice dropped, softer than before.

"Rest, my precious."

I barely heard him. My head fell against his shoulder as exhaustion pulled me under.

"You're safe."

For the first time in days, I wanted to believe him.