𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

Chapter Ninety-Eight

ONE MONTH LATER...

CARLO
MARIANO

The days drifted by slowly, a quiet rhythm that I had almost come to find comfort in. But recently, something had shifted, an undercurrent I couldn't place but felt all around me. Angelo was acting strange, almost secretive, which was completely unlike him. And Nicholas—well, he was still his usual brooding self, but now he seemed to hover around more often, his presence both comforting and irritating at once. I didn't trust him, yet I couldn't deny that having him here, with his silent strength, made things feel a bit more stable.

Adeline and Mia had been stepping in, too, with a quiet, motherly energy that made me feel less adrift. They had a way of bringing warmth without demanding anything in return, and I couldn't remember the last time I felt like anyone just cared like that. Despite this unexpected support, though, there was something unsettling, like a shadow in the corner of my mind that refused to go away.

I used to be happy and talking non stop. I was going back to my usual self.

Yesterday, I stumbled upon Cassie, Angelo, and Nicholas in the middle of a heated argument. They'd formed their own friendship, one I wasn't a part of, and I hated the exclusion. I wasn't a fan of Cassie, either. She was loud, abrasive, and had a talent for getting under people's skin.

She cursed at Angelo, and he cursed right back, the two of them like fire and gasoline. I didn't understand how my brother could take it; maybe he liked the challenge, but I hated the way she disturbed him so easily.

When I interrupted them, Angelo turned to me, irritation flaring in his eyes. "Carlo, just go," he muttered, trying to shoo me off without an explanation.

I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. "Is this some kind of 'let's hate on Carlo' group? Because if so, congratulations, you're all very annoying."

Cassie let out a laugh, arching an eyebrow in my direction. "Relax. No one's hating on you."

Angelo shot her a glare. "Cassie, shut it. Don't talk to him with that tone." She rolled her eyes, clearly unbothered by his frustration. "I was being funny."

"Well, you're not," Nicholas muttered, his voice clipped as he turned and walked away. He was spending more time here lately, always lingering in the background with Angelo. It was strange—strange enough that I started to wonder what they were all hiding.

Our eighteenth birthday was around the corner, not that it mattered to me. Angelo and I never celebrated birthdays. There was something about marking time that felt hollow, pointless. But as the days got closer, everyone around me seemed to be walking on eggshells, hiding glances and whispering when they thought I wasn't paying attention. Whatever they were planning, I just wanted it to be over.

I didn't like surprises. Not anymore.

Two days later, my eighteenth birthday crept up on me quietly. Last night on midnight Mia, Damiano, Addie and Luciano got me a cake and sang me happy birthday with forced gifts. I enjoyed it but I also wanted Nicholas to wish me happy birthday. He didn't yet.

It felt like any other day, just another marker of time passing. I didn't care much for birthdays, hadn't celebrated them in years. Angelo and I kept things simple, preferring not to draw attention. But today felt different, like a faint hum of energy surrounded everyone. It made me uneasy.

I was in my room, half-expecting the day to slip by unnoticed, when Angelo barged in, grinning like he'd got Ivy back—he didn't. His energy was contagious, but I was still guarded, sensing something unusual in his excitement.