All Chapters of Master of Her Sins: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

SebTHE ICY rain beat against the heavy glass walls without mercy.I stood in my private study, my back rigid, staring through the floor-to-ceiling glass at the narrow exterior ledge twelve stories above the concrete street.Out there, soaked to the skin in a thin cotton dress, was Bela.She clung to the frozen stone with one hand, a heavy bristle brush in the other, scrubbing at the rain-streaked glass. Her body shuddered with violent tremors.Matteo stood on the interior side of the glass, his heavy coat zipped to his chin, his dark eyes fixed on her every move. I had given him one strict, unspoken order before she stepped onto that narrow ledge: If she slips, or if she tries to jump, you catch her.I couldn't trust her not to jump. The wild, desperate light in her eyes during the confrontation with Alessandra told me everything.She would rather plunge to her death on the pavement below than spend another day trapped in my gilded cage.For three brutal hours, I watched her through

SebTHE SILENCE of the penthouse at three in the morning was a fragile, dangerous thing.Alessandra was sound asleep in the master suite, her face soft, her breathing heavy with the fine wine she drank every evening to drown her suspicions.I stood in the narrow concrete service corridor behind the kitchen, my dark sweater blending into the shadows. In my right hand, I held three small, ordinary objects that had taken me two weeks to procure through Matteo’s private black-market channels.A heavy iron key, cut to fit the deadbolts of the basement service exit.A slender hairpin, painted matte black, made of flexible, reinforced surgical steel that could puncture a neck artery or pick a standard tumbler lock.A thin, folded slip of waterproof paper written in the old Southern cipher.I pushed the low wooden door of the pantry room open without making a sound.The small, windowless room was cold and smelled of damp plaster and clean soap. Bela lay on her narrow cot, her small body curled

SebTHE ELEVATOR doors slid shut, sealing Don Bernardo and Alejandro Vance out of the penthouse lobby.My blood was roaring in my ears, hot and poisonous like liquid iron. The lingering memory of Vance’s voice—soft, polite, and gentle—was clawing at the inside of my skull.“You have very delicate hands for such heavy work, signorina.”And then her smile.That faint, soft curve of her lips. She had never offered me a smile like that. Not once since I brought her into this tower.For me, she had only glares, curses, tears, and blood. But for a wealthy stranger in a blue suit, she had a warm, delicate tilt of her head.“Sebastian?” Alessandra called out, smoothing her silk dress as she turned away from the elevator. “Where are you going?”I didn't answer her. I didn't even look at her.I crossed the grand living room in long, furious strides, heading straight for the service door near the kitchen.I pushed through the heavy wooden door, descended the narrow back staircase into the dim s

SebThe salt wind on the open ocean was freezing, but my blood was a roaring furnace.I stood in the shadows of the lower corridor on Alejandro Vance’s mega-yacht, watching the narrow wooden stairs.My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped beast. Up on the main deck, the violin music swelled, drowned out only by Alessandra’s high, drunken laughter as she downed glass after glass of vintage champagne with Don Bernardo’s lieutenants.She didn't notice when I slipped away into the dark. She didn't care.My mind was trapped in a single, toxic loop—the image of Vance’s sleek, tailored frame leaning over Bela.The gentle, protective tilt of his head. His fingers sliding smoothly into the deep pocket of her grey maid apron.He touched her.He put his hands near her hip, whispering sweet, gentle poison into her ear while she looked up at him with those wide, dark eyes.A soft rustle of cheap cotton sounded near the stairwell.Bela stepped down onto the carpeted hallway, holding a tray

SebI STOOD in my private study, my eyes fixed on a stack of tactical reports.Suddenly, a muffled splash echoed down the hall. It was followed by a sharp, cruel laugh that I recognized instantly.Alessandra.My heart stopped beating for a second. I threw my pen down, grabbed my gun from the desk, and ran out into the quiet corridor. I sprinted toward the indoor pool room, my leather boots thudding against the polished floor.I pushed the heavy glass doors open.Alessandra stood near the deep end of the pool, holding a long wooden pole with both hands. She was laughing, thrusting the pole down into the dark, churning water.“Alessandra!” I roared.She turned around, startled. “Sebastian? I was just—”I didn't listen. I looked down into the clear blue water.Eight feet below the surface, a grey maid dress floated weightlessly in the dark. Bela lay completely still at the bottom of the deep end. Her face was blue, her red hair fan out around her head like silk. She was not moving. She w