Chapter 281 — Memories III

[AN:– Warning: The following section contains dark and disturbing content. Not for the faint-hearted. Reader discretion is advised. If you decide to continue then its on you, and if you decide to heed the warning then good as it contains very disturbing themes.]

[Two Years Later - Night]

Alessio stood in a safehouse across the city, dressed in an expensive suit that fit him perfectly, his appearance transformed from the desperate boy Nera had found.

His phone rang, the sound cutting through the quiet, the caller ID showing one of the women’s guards.

He answered immediately.

"Alessio! Go to the house and save Boss! The drug cartel is making a m–"

The line cut off mid-word, replaced by static, then nothing.

Crack

Alessio’s carefully maintained composure shattered, his face showing the terror he’d learned to hide, his entire body moving before conscious thought caught up.

He grabbed his gun from the table, checked the magazine with movements born from muscle memory, then sprinted toward the door.

’Hurry!’

The thought drove everything else away, fear and desperation mixing into fuel that made him faster.

His car screamed through city streets, speed limits meaningless, traffic laws irrelevant, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

He reached the house in minutes that felt like hours, his enhanced body moving with precision despite panic threatening to overwhelm rational thought.

The front gate hung open, guards who should have been stationed there absent.

His foot hit the accelerator harder, the car crashing through the entrance, stopping only when he reached the main building.

Alessio emerged with his gun drawn, his eyes scanning for threats, his breathing controlled despite his racing heart.

Bodies.

D’Rossi Family guards lay scattered across the grounds, their expensive coats stained with blood, their weapons still holstered in most cases.

’They were caught off guard...’

His tactical mind processed details even as horror grew with each corpse he recognized.

Men who’d joked with him during training, guards who’d taught him proper shooting stance, people who’d become something approaching friends.

All dead.

He moved into the house silently, his footsteps making no sound despite his desperate speed, years of training overriding panic enough to maintain operational discipline.

But he only found more bodies inside.

The staff, the inner guards, everyone who should have protected the woman.

He killed the enemies he found – silent shots to heads, knife work when ammunition needed conserving – his face completely empty despite the violence.

Each death brought him closer to the woman’s private quarters on the second floor, his hearing picking up sounds that made his blood run cold.

Thumping.

Men laughing.

Sounds of furniture breaking.

And underneath it all, wet noises that his mind refused to process into meaning.

****

Damian watched Alessio approach that door, his own consciousness screaming at the memory, desperate protests erupting despite knowing they wouldn’t change what had already happened.

"DON’T OPEN IT! ALESSIO, DON’T FUCKING OPEN THAT DOOR!"

His voice raw with anguish, his form on its knees in the void of memory, hands reaching toward a past he couldn’t alter.

"PLEASE! NOT THIS! ANYTHING BUT THIS! DON’T MAKE ME SEE THIS AGAIN!"

But Alessio’s hand was already on the handle, already turning, already pushing the door open.

And Damian’s screams became incoherent, his consciousness shattering as the scene revealed itself.

****

Four men.

Their pants around their ankles, their bodies moving in rhythm, their faces showing pleasure and dominance and the kind of cruelty that came from knowing their victim was helpless.

The woman lay beneath them on her destroyed bed, her elegant clothes torn away, her body bruised and bloodied from violence that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with power.

Her face...

Her beautiful, intelligent face that had taught Alessio about family and respect and honor...

Was swollen beyond recognition, covered in blood, her dark eyes staring at nothing, completely empty.

The men didn’t even notice Alessio at first, too focused on their violation, their laughter mixing with sounds that would haunt dreams.

"Fucking D’Rossi bitch thought she was untouchable–"

"Should’ve known better than to mess with our territory–"

"Bet she regrets it now, don’t you, beautiful? Bet you wish you’d–"

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Four shots in rapid succession, Alessio’s gun speaking before his mind could fully process what he was seeing.

The men collapsed, their laughter cut off, their bodies falling away from the woman’s still form.

Then... Alessio’s gun fell from nerveless fingers, hitting the floor with a sound that echoed too loud in the sudden silence.

Clatter

His legs gave out.

Thud

He collapsed to his knees, his entire body beginning to shake, tremors starting in his hands and spreading until his whole frame convulsed.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, too fast and too loud, drowning out everything else.

Thud-thump... Thud-thump... Thud-thump..

The world narrowed to a tunnel, sounds becoming distant and muffled, his vision blurring at the edges.

It was a panic attack.

His body was shutting down under horror it couldn’t process, his mind fracturing rather than accepting what his eyes were showing him.

But some part of him kept functioning, kept moving, automatic responses overriding paralysis.

He crawled toward the bed, his movements jerky and uncoordinated, his hands leaving bloody prints on expensive carpet.

Reached the woman’s still form.

Looked at her bloodied and bruised face, at the emptiness in eyes that had once held such intelligence and warmth.

His shaking hand rose, touching her cheek with gentleness that contradicted the violence surrounding them.

"Hey... I’m here now... you can open your eyes..."

His voice emerged broken, desperate, the words of a child seeking comfort rather than a hardened criminal.

But the woman remained unresponsive, her eyes still staring at nothing, her chest not moving with breath.

"Boss? Boss, please... I saved you... They’re dead now... You’re safe..."

He poked her shoulder gently, as if trying to wake someone from sleep.

But there was no response.

His shaking intensified, his hands moving to her shoulders, shaking her harder.

"Wake up! You have to wake up! You’re the Boss! You’re the head of D’Rossi! You don’t get to– You can’t just–"

"WAKE UP!"

His voice cracked on the shout, tears streaming down his face now, mixing with blood and sweat.

"Please... please wake up... I need you... You’re my family... You’re the only family I have... You can’t leave me... YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME ALONE AGAIN!"

His hands clutched at her, desperate and gentle simultaneously, afraid of hurting her further but unable to accept what he was seeing.

"I’ll be better! I’ll follow your lessons perfectly! I’ll make you proud! Just open your eyes! Please! PLEASE!"

But the truth was undeniable, written in her empty gaze and cooling skin and the violation that had preceded death.

She was gone.

Had been gone before he’d even entered the room, her death having come while he was across the city, too far to save her, too late to do anything except witness the aftermath.

Alessio’s trembling hands moved to his coat, removing it with mechanical precision despite his breakdown, wrapping the expensive fabric around the woman’s abused body with care that couldn’t undo what had been done but could at least restore some dignity.

His movements were gentle despite his shaking, covering her completely, hiding the evidence of her suffering even though the images were already burned into his mind forever.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

She was dead... had been dead for a while.

But accepting that truth meant accepting that he was alone again, that the foundation of his new life had been destroyed, that family was just another thing the world could take away.

****

Damian knelt in the void of memory, his consciousness breaking down completely, his hands clutching at his head, his entire being rejecting what he was being forced to witness.

Tears streamed down his face, his voice raw from screaming, his mind fragmenting under the weight of Alessio’s trauma becoming his own.

And then both of them – Alessio in the memory and Damian watching it – seemed to reach the same breaking point simultaneously.

The same name emerging from both throats, separated by lifetimes but united in absolute anguish.

"NERAAAA!"

The scream echoed through memory and void alike, carrying everything that couldn’t be put into words – grief and rage and betrayal and the fundamental wrongness of losing the only person who’d ever made them believe they could be more than just animals fighting for survival.

Alessio collapsed over Nera’s wrapped body, his entire frame shaking with sobs that came from somewhere deeper than his chest, his young voice breaking completely.

Damian screamed into the void, his consciousness shattering, the memory releasing him finally but the damage already done.