Lost In The Darkness {Edited}

Chapter~57

Lorenzo's POV:

Dante's voice was firm, almost cold, as he ordered us to stay quiet about what we witnessed—at least until Nicolo regained consciousness. But I could feel the unease in the room, as if we were all holding our breath. The doctor had said Nic would be fine, but how could that be true after what we'd just seen? He had overdosed on his migraine pills, taking far more than his body could handle. And as if that wasn't enough, he'd washed them down with alcohol, turning the cocktail into a lethal mix.

I couldn't erase the image from my mind—Nic, pale and unresponsive, his body convulsing as thick white foam oozed from his mouth. The sight was horrifying, the foam a result of his body fighting back, trying to expel the poison. His breathing had been shallow, erratic, like his body didn't know whether to give up or keep fighting. The doctor tried to calm us, but I could see the tightness in her face as she worked, pumping Nic's stomach to rid him of the deadly combination inside. It was more than just a scare. The tension in the room was suffocating; the unspoken fear gripped us all—what if it was too late? What if Nic didn't wake up at all?

And as if Nicolo's condition wasn't enough, the sight of Vanessa's scars haunted me, engraved into my mind like a nightmare I couldn't wake from. Her hands—those awful scars—they told stories no one should have to tell. The cigarette burns, small circles of destruction, marred her skin. They looked like they'd been seared deep, the flesh twisted and mottled, as though it had been cooked and left to heal on its own. 

The skin was uneven, the texture almost alien. And then there were the gouged marks, deep and jagged, as though someone had violently torn at her with something sharp, leaving scars so thick and raised they looked more like ridges. They were old, faded but undeniable. And yet, they hadn't lost their power. The pain they spoke of lingered in every inch of her, a reminder of whatever hell she had survived. 

Someone did that to her. That was obvious. But damn it, I've never seen anything like it—so vicious, so personal and sickeningly brutal. My mind fumbled for words, but how could I describe it? Not when I was teetering between disbelief and the flood of anguish that came with knowing this was done to her, to Vanessa..

We thought her life was complicated, sure—troubled, like any twenty-one-year-old trying to find her way. But this? This was a darkness none of us had imagined. We had no clue she was hiding something so awful, so... horrific. 

What happened to her? We all thought she lived a decent life with Amelia, never even stopping to think that beneath the surface, there could be this... this torment. I didn't realize. Not for a single moment did I think she could have been living in a private hell and we were too blind to see it.

Just then, the doctor stepped out of Nicolo's room, her voice pulling me back to the present. "Your brother has regained consciousness. You can see him now," she said. Her words cut through the storm of terrible thoughts, offering me a brief, fragile moment of relief from the poison flooding my mind.

Vanessa and Matthew didn't hesitate; they rushed inside the room without a second thought, and the rest of us followed closely behind, tension crackling in the air.

"You prick!" Matthew's voice exploded as soon as he saw Nicolo. "How can you do this to yourself? Do you have no fucking regard for your own life?" His words were sharp, cutting through the silence, but it was the tremble in his voice that betrayed him. "I can't believe you could be this careless."

I had never seen him like this before—so raw, so utterly broken. His usually composed self was a mess. His hair looked like it had been yanked and twisted, strands sticking out in every direction, as if he'd been clawing at his scalp in frustration. His face was flushed, red with anger, or maybe from holding back the tears that were threatening to spill over. It was clear he was hanging by a thread, trying desperately to keep his emotions in check, but the cracks were showing. His hands shook slightly, balled into fists at his sides as though that was the only thing keeping him from breaking down entirely.