Page 53 of Scar

It feels too unreal to be true. The alley, the masked man, Scar, this walk in the woods - it must all be part of some deceptive dream that I will soon wake up from.

We make our way across the open space, feeling the dried grass crunching beneath our feet as we approach a series of rolling hills. Scar leads me towards a seemingly ordinary section of one of the slopes.

He raises his hand and deftly pushes away a tangle of vines that had been concealing something. My breath catches as a hidden latch is revealed, blending in seamlessly with the natural contours of the terrain. Scar glances at me, his expression serious yet gentle, before pulling the latch and revealing a door set into the side of the hill. I gape in amazement; without seeing it for myself, I would never have believed that Scar could just walk through what appears to be a solid wall.

He leads us through the door, and I follow closely behind, my heart pounding in my chest. The earthen walls are adorned with lamps, providing enough light to guide us safely down the stone steps. As we descend, the temperature drops and the sounds of the forest fade into the background. The steps are well-worn but sturdy, leading us deeper underground.

At the bottom, we enter a narrow tunnel lit by sporadic overhead lights. The walls are reinforced with stone and metal, creating a striking contrast to the natural beauty outside. The tunnel curves slightly and Scar moves forward with purpose, clearly familiar with this underground passage. I stay close, remaining alert to any potential dangers that may lie ahead.

At long last, we arrive at a massive door reinforced with thick layers of steel. Scar places his hand on a biometric scannerattached to the wall next to the door, and it slides open with a soft hiss. I follow him into the surprisingly spacious room, a fully stocked underground bunker equipped with everything necessary for extended survival. Shelves filled with supplies, a compact kitchen area, a workstation complete with monitors and communication devices, and a modest living space take up most of the room.

Scar finally turns to me, his eyes revealing a deep burden that remains unspoken. “This is where they buried me,” he says, his voice rough and callous.

I look around in awe, our dire situation sinking in like a heavy fog. “How did you...?” I trail off, my mind overflowing with questions that I struggle to put into words.

Scar steps closer, his imposing presence causing me to flinch. “I have a lot of explaining to do, Allegra,” he says with a hint of aggression. “But first and foremost, I want you to know that everything I've done was for us. To protect our future together.”

His words only fuel the fire raging inside me. My fists clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I struggle to contain my emotions. “When I buried you in that tomb, Scar, I also buried any possibility of a future with you,” I snap, my voice trembling with fury.

His sober nod conveys the weight of my pain, but it does little to quell my anger. “You were dead,” I snarl, the sound reverberating off the cold, unfeeling walls of the bunker. “Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

Scar flinches at my outburst, his expression mirroring the anguish in my heart. But despite his evident remorse, I cannot control the torrent of emotions spilling from within. “I grieved for you. Every night, I wept for your loss. And now you're just... here, alive? How could you put me through this?”

“Allegra, please,” he reaches out towards me, but I back away, my fury acting as a barrier between us. “I had no choice. If I hadn't faked my own death, they would have come for you. It was the only way to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” I scoff bitterly. “You think I’m safe living with the ghost of you every day? I already have one foot in the grave!”

He lowers his head, remorse lacing every muscle movement, his jaw set tightly. It's clear that he knows everything that has happened in his absence - the attack on me, his mother's involvement with the Lucianis, their takeover of the Gatti compound. How could he just let all of that happen? How could he let his own life be taken over like that?

“I didn’t do this to hurt you. It’s the last thing I wanted to do.” He reaches out to touch my face, but I slap his hand away, my anger palpable. “Don’t,” I warn, my voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you dare touch me. You can't just get away with this... not again.”

He takes a step back, his shoulders straightening as he clenches his jaw. “I don't want to fight with you, Allegra.”

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and cold. “This is more than just a fight, Scar. You broke my heart in ways that can’t begin to be repaired.”

His voice is raw with emotion as he speaks again. “I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for it anyway.”

Tears stream down my face as I try to catch my breath between sobs. “Forgiveness isn't enough,” I whisper, my voice cracking with pain. “I lost more than just a husband in that ambush. You have no idea how much I've suffered... how much I continue to suffer.”

Scar stands there, silently helpless as we both bear the weight of his actions. In the dim light of the bunker, the distance between us feels insurmountable - a chasm of betrayal and heartache that words alone cannot bridge. Unable to look at himany longer, I turn away. The man who was once lost to me has returned, but the wounds of his deception are too fresh to ignore or forget.

CHAPTER 47 – SCAR

When Allegra is angry, she's like a blazing inferno. I've never seen her so furious before. She stands in the corner of the room, arms crossed tightly over her chest, just as she used to do when we first met, and she'd get sassy with me.

We wait in silence, counting the minutes until I hear voices approaching through the underground tunnel. Allegra rolls her eyes, seemingly anticipating what's about to happen, and turns to face the door as our visitors stumble in one by one. I had no other choice but to call for backup; otherwise, she would have become more rebellious and demanded to leave and go back to her own life - without me.

I can't take that risk. I can't let her leave this bunker, and I need her to understand why I made the difficult decision I did, even if it causes her pain. It may be painful for her now, but it would have been more devastating for both of us if we had truly lost each other. But that seems to be her point - not knowing that we were still here would have caused her unimaginable grief. While I thought she would finally be relieved to be rid of me, she took my supposed death much harder than I ever expected. And when my brothers also “died,” it only added to her anguish.

As soon as they enter the room, my brothers line up in a straight row and Allegra pushes them away instead of returning their hugs. They look like they are waiting to be executed, and I can't help but roll my eyes at the absurdity of the situation. Weall wear matching painter's overalls, which make it easier for us to move around down here unrestricted.

“What’s it going to take to get back into your good graces?” Rafi asks.

Allegra scoffs at his pleading. Brando glares at her, and I can tell that he feels more betrayed than she does. He's probably still upset about her punching him when he tried to give her a hug. I watch with satisfaction as Brando's jaw clenches - serves him right for touching my wife.

“What's so funny?” Allegra turns to me, her expression cool and distant.

I quickly straighten up, feeling caught off guard. The last thing I want is to make her even angrier.

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