Silk & Steel: A Mafia Romance | ENGLOT

Chapter 39: Falling Apart

The sterile scent of disinfectant clung to Luca like a second skin as he entered Tiffany's hospital room. Contessa sat beside Tiffany's bed, a picture of quiet determination etched on her face. She looked up as Luca enters, a weak smile blooming on her face.

"Luca, hey." She greeted.

"Contessa," Luca replied, his voice gentle. "Wyvern asked me to pick you up. Are you ready to go?"

Contessa's brow furrowed in confusion. "Oh, But I thought..." She trailed off, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features. Enna had promised to be there.

Luca cleared his throat, forcing a smile. "Wyvern said something came up, some place she had to be in, But she wants you to be comfortable. Come on, let's get you home."

Contessa hesitated, casting a worried glance at Tiffany. "Are you sure it's alright? What if she wakes up and needs something?"

Luca placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "The nurses will take care of everything. You need rest too, Contessa. You look like you could use a good night's sleep in your own bed."

Contessa sighed, a flicker of exhaustion finally dimming the fire in her eyes. "Alright," she conceded, allowing Luca to help her up. The movement sent a sharp pang through her bruised ribs, a reminder of the attack.

With a final lingering look, Contessa followed Luca out of the room, the silence between them heavy with unspoken questions.

The ride back to the Rossi mansion was filled with an uncomfortable tension. Luca, usually a fountain of chatter, seemed preoccupied, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. Contessa, her body a map of aches and bruises, fought back the rising tide of unease.

As they pulled up to the imposing mansion, the grand double doors swung open before they could even step out. Mama Rossi, her face etched with worry, rushed forward, engulfing Contessa in a tight embrace.

"Contessa, mia cara," she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank God you're alright. We were so worried."

Contessa hugged Mama Rossi back, a small choked sob escaping her lips. The warmth of the embrace, the concern in Mama Rossi's eyes, was a balm to her weary soul.

Nicola emerged from behind her mother, her gaze flitting between Contessa and Luca. She pulled Contessa into a quick hug, her touch gentle but firm. "Good to have you back," she said, "I'm so sorry for what happened."

Contessa, touched by their concern, forced a smile. "Thank you, Mama Rossi. Nicola. I'm a little bruised, but I'll be fine."

She winced slightly as she shifted, the movement highlighting a tender spot on her ribs.

Nicola, ever the observant one, noticed the wince. "Looks like you could use some rest, Contessa," she said, "Let me show you to your room."

But the question that burned on her tongue, the one that overshadowed everything else, finally escaped her lips. "Where's Enna?"

———

The clinking of glasses barely registered through the haze of Enna's thoughts. Beside her, on the dimly lit bar table sat Leanna, her ruby red lips curved into a knowing smile. Her gaze, usually playful, was tinged with concern.

Enna swirled the amber liquid in her glass, the ice cubes clicking like a metronome against the silence she couldn't seem to escape. "Another round?" Leanna offered, her voice laced with a question that hung heavy in the air.

Enna nodded numbly, a silent plea for oblivion nestled within the gesture. Leanna, a woman who understood the language of unspoken pain all too well, signaled the bartender.