Marco sat with a drink In his hand awaiting Victor who still hadn't come out of the bedroom. The sight of Dante ruthlessly digging his fingers into Alessia kept replaying in his head, his grip on the glass tightening.

Alessia’s muffled scream had gnawed at him, making him unable to look at her during those times.

To think she was in such pain because of him.

Marco sighed, glancing at the door and wondering what was taking Victor so long to finish up.

Impatiently, he stood up and walked to the room, opening the door and entering slowly.

Victor, who was busily wrapping a bandage around her, turned to see...