All Chapters of Master of Her Sins: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

BelaTHE SHARP, sudden knock on my bedroom door made me jump.I was sitting by the wide window, looking out over the grey, rainy skyline of Milan, when the wooden panel rattled. I set my book down on the small side table and walked over to open it.Lucia stood in the hallway. Her face was pale, and her fingers were tightly laced together over her black apron. She looked around the corridor as if she were afraid someone might be watching us from the shadows.“Miss Bela,” Lucia said, her voice dropping into a tense whisper. “You need to come outside. Now.”I frowned, stepping out into the doorframe. “What is going on, Lucia? What happened?”“Don Sebastian ordered every single person in the house to assemble in the grand receiving area immediately,” she replied quickly.My heart did a strange, nervous flip inside my chest. “Even me?”Lucia nodded, her eyes filled with uneasy worry. “Yes. Everyone. The kitchen staff, the cleaners, the laundry women, and you.”“Why?” I asked, holding onto

SebTHE MASTER bedroom smelled heavily of expensive French perfume and heavy, dark roses.Alessandra was sitting on the edge of the massive king bed, wearing a dark red silk nightgown that slid off one shoulder. The gold rings on her fingers caught the dim light of the bedside lamps.“You are late, Sebastian,” she murmured, her red lips curving into a slow, lazy smile. “A man who is about to marry into the Moretti family should not keep his bride waiting in the dark.”I stood near the heavy wooden door, my black jacket already tossed across a chair. My hands rested in my pockets, my fingers curled into tight, rigid fists. Every muscle in my body felt like pulled wire.“I had business to settle with my captains,” I said smoothly, keeping my voice low and dark.“Forget your captains,” Alessandra purred, standing up and walking toward me with slow, hips-swaying steps. She reached out, her sharp nails running up the front of my white shirt, unbuttoning the top three buttons with practiced

SebThe penthouse was finally silent. Alessandra had left an hour ago for a four-hour appointment at an exclusive spa in the center of Milan, taking half the Moretti security detail with her.My chest burned with a frantic, desperate urgency. I moved down the narrow back stairwell, my boots making no sound against the stone steps, descending straight into the sub-basement.The wine cellar was ice-cold, dark, and secluded. The air smelled of damp stone, old oak barrels, and aged grapes.I pushed the heavy iron door open.Bela was standing near the back rack, a small wooden crate in her arms. Her hands were wrapped in thick white bandages, hiding the raw burns from this morning. When the iron door clicked shut behind me, she froze, her shoulders going rigid under her dull grey maid’s dress.She turned around slowly. The moment her dark eyes locked onto mine, a sudden wave of sharp, terrifying rage flared across her pale face.“Get out,” she spat, her voice low and tight.I didn't answer

SebTHE RAIN hit the massive glass walls of the penthouse.Beside me on the wide king bed, Alessandra shifted, her breathing heavy, raspy, and thick with the expensive red wine she had downed during dinner.I sat up slowly, slipping my legs off the side of the mattress. My bare feet sank into the cold pile of the dark rug.My skin pricked with a sudden, sharp warning.It was an instinct built over ten long years of running the city’s underground—a subtle shift in the cold draft coming through the wide hallway, the faint click of heavy boots tapping against wet stone outside on the private terrace.I reached into the top drawer of the nightstand, my fingers wrapping around the cold steel grip of my black Beretta.I stepped into the dark hallway. The penthouse was lit only by the faint green lights of the security panels and the violent, irregular flashes of lightning outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.I moved toward the kitchen first, stopping near the heavy door that led down to th

BelaTHE DOOR to my tiny pantry room was kicked open with a loud, deafening crash.I jumped off my narrow cot, my heart leaping straight into my throat. Alessandra stood in the doorway, her silk robe billowing around her, her face twisted in pure, theatrical rage.Behind her in the dim corridor stood Seb and two Moretti guards.“Where is it, you dirty little thief?!” Alessandra shrieked, pointing a manicured finger at my face.I backed up against the cold concrete wall, clutching my bandaged hands against my waist. “What are you talking about?”“My engagement ring!” she yelled, her voice echoing down the narrow service hallway. “My five-carat diamond ring is gone from my vanity! You were the only servant in my room this morning!”“I didn't take your ring,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level despite the sudden knot of terror in my chest. “I haven't been near your vanity today.”“Liar!” Alessandra turned to Seb, grabbing his arm and shaking him aggressively. “Sebastian, search her r