Alle Kapitel von PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL: Kapitel 11 – Kapitel 20

DIANAHome sweet home.After all this time, I was back.The house felt even bigger and colder than I remembered. Alessandro, as always, stood rigid beside me with that icy stare that made me feel like a stranger. We'd never had the best relationship, and today wasn't about to change that. He just watched me while I looked around, moving through rooms that had once been the backdrop of my childhood and teenage years.The mansion rose majestically on a Sicilian mountainside, ancient stone walls catching the first rays of sunlight. Vines twisted along the perimeter, and that familiar sweet scent of Mediterranean flowers filled the air.Every step brought a wave of memories. When I reached the living room, that last day hit me like a freight train. The sound of gunshots still echoed in my head—that metallic smell of blood flooding the air. I saw them again: our father and my older brother, Alejandro, lying on the floor. Gone.My chest tightened. I tried to push the images away, but

DIANAWhen I opened my eyes that morning, it took me a second to remember where I was. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the light. For a moment, I felt completely untethered, my brain still caught up in all those silent days at the convent. I looked around, taking it in: the king-size bed with the silk sheets, the ivory-painted walls, that faint lavender smell hanging in the air.It took another few seconds for it to click. I was home.I couldn't hold back the joy that just exploded inside me. I let out this scream, this stupid happy sound, and it bounced right off the walls."I'm in my house!" I yelled into my pillow, then just started laughing at nothing.I practically launched myself out of bed, feet hitting the cold marble floor. Walked straight to the window and pulled the curtains open, letting the sun flood in. The garden on the hillside was insane—so green, flowers everywhere in these crazy colors. I breathed in deep, that fresh morning smell filling my lungs. A

ROCCOThe shopping bags kept multiplying in my arms, a chaotic pile of purchases from what felt like every store in this damn mall. Diana, though? She was a machine. Bouncing from window to window like a kid on a sugar high."I want... you!" she announced, pointing at some gleaming black purse on a top shelf. The salesgirl—friendly smile, eager to please—immediately started pulling it down."Diana, there's no more room." I kept my voice low, trying to stay calm. "Don't you think that's enough for today?""Relax, Rocco. You can handle one more. Just one more, I promise!"The salesgirl was clearly entertained, watching this whole thing go down while she wrapped up Diana's latest conquest. Handed it over all carefully, and Diana took it like a trophy before passing it to me."Next time you're gonna need a shopping cart.""A cart? Try a moving truck." I didn't even try to hide the edge in my voice.We were walking out when Diana stopped at another window, eyes lighting up. I sighe

DIANA I slid the pearl earring into my lobe and gave the red dress one last look in the mirror. It had been years since I’d felt this beautiful. After so long in the convent, I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to get dressed up like this—to feel feminine. Powerful.Heavy footsteps sounded behind me. When I turned, there was Alessandro, stepping into the room with his hands behind his back. He stopped short when he saw me fully put together.“Perfect choice, Diana.”I took a breath and turned to face him fully. He moved closer, his expression as serious as ever.“When you get to the auction, you need to be sharp. Watch everything, watch everyone, but don’t let them catch on to what you’re really after. I want you to win The Revolt of Palermo. Don’t worry about the price. Go all the way. It’s essential that you bring that painting back.”I nodded, taking in every detail of the plan.“Remember, Rocco and a security team will be with you. They’ll make sure you’re safe and that

DIANAWe made our way to the reserved section, where rows of red velvet chairs sat perfectly aligned in front of the stage. I took the seat next to Rocco, who was still radiating that whole severe aura. A staff member came around handing out numbered paddles, and I took mine, noticing the number twenty-seven printed in black on white.The auctioneer took the stage, thanking everyone for coming and announcing that the auction was finally about to begin. He gave a short speech thanking Eleonora—the woman behind the event and the owner of the art collection—who had taken her seat in the front row.“Ladies and gentlemen, our first item tonight is a true masterpiece by the renowned Italian painter Giuseppe Mancini.”The lights focused on the painting as it was brought onto the stage. It depicted a vivid scene of rebellion and chaos in the streets of Palermo, with intense colors and dramatic brushstrokes. A wave of nostalgia hit me, seeing that piece again.I remembered spending hours