All Chapters of PROTECTED BY THE DEVIL: Chapter 81 - Chapter 86

ROCCOI was in the dark, the taste of blood metallic in my mouth. The pain in my wrists was unbearable—the rope had cut through skin right down to the bone. I couldn't even feel my right hand anymore, like it wasn't even part of me. I didn't know how many days had passed. Maybe a week. Maybe more. Time had stopped meaning anything. I stank. Still wearing the same clothes from the day everything fell apart. I was teetering on the edge of losing my mind, hallucinating so bad I could hear Martina's voice singing, soft and sad, like she was right there with me in that godforsaken room.Then, out of the emptiness, the door creaked open. Light flooded in, blinding me for a second. One of the soldiers appeared in the doorway, his silhouette nothing but a blur."You've got a visitor."I smiled, even though the movement pulled at the cuts on my lips, making the pain worse. A visitor? What the fuck?Head still hanging low, I slowly lifted my eyes. And there he was. Alessandro. He walked into th

ROCCODays laterThe shock ripped through my body like a wave of pure agony, concentrated right on my ribs where the pain was already blinding. Each jolt made my muscles seize up against my will, my body shaking so hard I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside. The pain ran so deep it blurred the line between real and unreal. My body was already wrecked—marked up, broken—but they kept going, pushing me past every limit.After an eternity—or maybe just a few minutes—the soldiers finally stopped. I could barely keep control of my own muscles; they were still twitching, spasming. The cold in the room seemed to get worse by the second, like the air itself was soaked with the pain they'd just put me through. They stepped back slowly, their shadows disappearing from my vision, leaving me alone in the dark.Still tied to the chair, my body started tilting forward, my arms heavy as lead. My strength was draining away, and I could feel the exhaustion creeping in like a shadow wrappin

DIANA Ever since Alessandro finally let me walk around the house, I hadn't stopped eating. It was like my mind was in a constant war, fighting against the urge to drown myself in alcohol. The kitchen had become my refuge, and for the thousandth time that day, I went back there, looking for some kind of comfort in the shelves and the fridge. Maybe it was anxiety. Maybe it was the emptiness of still having no news about Rocco. No one to talk to. Even though I was always surrounded by people in this house, the loneliness was crushing, like an invisible chasm separating me from everyone else. I opened the pantry and grabbed a jar of peanut butter. Spread a thick layer on some bread, the creamy texture going on easy. The hunger—insatiable—made me take a huge bite, and the deliciously salty taste exploded in my mouth. "God, this is so good," I murmured to myself. I grabbed the book I'd been reading, the one I'd left on the kitchen counter, and headed to the patio. The lounge chairs