Book two of 'The Vengeance Duology'
Five years ago, the lads and I made the biggest mistake of our lives-a reckless decision that shattered everything.
We destroyed what mattered most, but my deepest regret is how much I hurt her.
Every moment of pa...
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I've been deeply immersed in the F1 race all afternoon since we arrived here in Sicily. It's been my escape, my way of tuning out everything else. But right now, I'm in the kitchen, busy cooking pasta for Valentina. She mentioned she was going for a nap earlier, and I figured when she wakes up, she'll be hungry. I want to make sure she has something comforting to come back to.
The aroma of simmering sauce fills the kitchen, mingling with the rich, earthy scent of fresh basil I chopped earlier. I'm stirring the pasta, my mind occasionally drifting to what could be happening elsewhere. The soothing hum of the stove is interrupted by the sound of footsteps as the lads walk into the kitchen, having just returned from their meetings.
Theo, Nicco, Gio, Lucas and Alessio all enter, their suits still crisp from the day's activities. They glance around, noticing the pot of pasta on the stove.
"What's cooking, Jacques?" Theo asks, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.
I look up from the pot, trying to keep my tone light despite a growing sense of unease. "Pasta for Valentina. She's taking a nap earlier, so I thought I'd make sure she has something ready when she wakes up."
Just then, Domenico walks into the kitchen. "Oh, she's not here," he says casually, but his eyes betray concern.
I turn to face him, my voice sharp with worry. "What the fuck do you mean she's not here?"
"She left a few hours ago," he explains, trying to remain calm.
"And you didn't tell me? You know what's going on. Where is she?" I demand, my frustration rising.
Domenico's gaze flicks to the lads, who are all staring at us with a mix of confusion and concern. Then he looks back at me, the fact that he can't tell me in front of them answers my question quickly.
I run to grab my jacket, my mind racing. "You let her go on her own?" I shout, the anger in my voice mingling with fear.
"She wanted to go alone," Domenico says, his tone more resigned than indifferent. "It's what she needed. She insisted."
I snatch up some car keys, my hands shaking with urgency. "Yes, and she also says she's fine when she's clearly not!" I exclaim as I rush to the garage.
"Should we come?" Alessio asks, his voice laced with concern.
"No, fuck, no," I respond sharply. "She needs me." I slide into the car, starting it with a roar as I drive off, my heart pounding with worry for Valentina.
I speed down the winding roads of Sicily, the engine roaring beneath me as I push the car to its limits. The landscape blurs past in a dizzying rush of color, but my focus remains unshakeable—Valentina. I need to get to her. I need to make sure she's okay.
Finally, I pull into the car park, my tires screeching as I slam the brakes. I barely bother to shut off the engine before I leap out of the car, my heart pounding with a fierce urgency. My feet pound against the cobblestones as I sprint down the path, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.
