"I didn't expect the Bratva's tech queen to be quite so... captivating," Lorenzo's voice dripped with irony as he observed Galina, who was absorbed in deciphering a web of encrypted data.
Galina's gaze remained fixed on her screens, her expression a...
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The soft murmur of Luca's voice intrudes upon the tempest of my thoughts, a ripple in the stillness that clings through the car like a heavy shroud. I stare by the window, my gaze fixed on the world beyond, though my mind is ensnared by the chaos unfolding beneath the surface of this very moment. My fingers curl, the glass cool against my skin, but it is nothing compared to the frigid grip around my chest.
"What do you think must have happened?" His question, seemingly simple, is weighted with an unspoken tension that hangs in the air between us.
I turn slowly to meet his gaze. His confusion is a silent accusation, a reflection of the unexpected turn our lives have taken. The questions echo in his eyes, and I feel the invisible threads of this moment unravel. Orazio and I had dragged him from the comfort of the living room—his mind tangled in the easy, pleasant threads of social distractions—into the maelstrom that we now find ourselves in. It is not fair, I know. But this is what it has always been. A call to action when everything else must fall away.
"Some idiot decided to blow up one of our factories," I say, my voice a growl, rough-edged with frustration. Each word is a blow to my pride, the helplessness seeping through. I watch Luca's face shift, the confusion bleeding away as the gravity of the situation sinks in. His eyes harden, lips pulling into a taut line, the dawning realization passing through him like a shadow across his face. A grim understanding settles into his bones, and I can feel the moment it takes root. He knows now.
"I see," he says softly, and the simplicity of the statement only sharpens the tension in the room. "So, this is serious."
There is no comfort in his tone, no attempt to soften the blow. He says it like it is, which is exactly how it should be. But it doesn't make the burden any lighter.
Orazio's fury flares then, igniting the space between us with its heat. His eyes gleam with the promise of retribution, a dangerous light that has the power to scorch the earth beneath it. "Whoever the hell did this better hope they don't fall into my hands. I'll fucking ruin them."
His fists clench at his sides, the veins in his neck taut with barely contained rage. The air crackles with his unspent anger, a wildfire waiting for the right spark. His desire for vengeance is palpable, but I see the strain in him. It is too much, too wild. He needs to rein it in, but I can't bring myself to chastise him. Not yet. The damage done to our property is more than just a loss—it's an affront. A personal one.
