Silent love

Chapter 40

On the previous chapter....

I took a step forward, letting the tension between us rise. "If Valerio cared so damn much about Saletti, then why the hell hasn't he lifted a finger? He's the one who let it happen, so don't come talking to me about consequences. I didn't make this war. I'm just finishing it".

I turned back to Fiorenzo, locking my gaze on him. "You think I'm wrong? Fine. Tell me, Fiorenzo, tell me, do you care more about Saletti than you do about your own sister?" I let the words hit him like a blow. "We suffered too. Does that not matter?"

The room went cold. Fiorenzo didn't respond, and I didn't wait for him to. He knew where I was going.

If Valerio didn't care about how many people he would piss off, why would I?

He crossed the line first. And now he will pay for it.

None of them knew what it meant to be this far gone, to have every line crossed. I didn't care who they were or what they had done.

I wasn't here for anyone's approval.

I took a breath, letting the weight of the moment settle. "Valerio doesn't care who they are. He cares about the power they hold, about the chance to take me down. If he can take me out, he'll do it. And you know what? He doesn't give a damn if it's Saletti or anyone else".

"Enough with the questions". I looked at each of them now, one by one. "We're done here".

                  ʚ YAQUELINE'S POV ɞ

The hallway echoed with heels and laughter.

The kind of laughter that only women like us could afford, tucked between knowing glances and shared secrets.

Cecilia was already at the door, impatient as always, coat slung over one arm like she wasn't sure she even wanted to bring it. Chrysanthe stood beside her, adjusting her earring in the mirror, her expression unreadable as usual.

They didn't need to say much to each other. Just one look, and they knew exactly what the other meant.

Divine was behind me, humming something under her breath, her lip gloss already reapplied twice in the last ten minutes. She looked like the kind of beautiful that made people nervous.

And she knew it too.

"Are we going or are we pretending to go?" Seraphina's voice cut through from the stairs. She wasn't looking at any of us, but the message landed.

"We're going!" I yelled, pulling my jacket on.

We are going out tonight. Drinks. Music.

Something that didn't involve blood on the floor or whispers behind locked doors.

For one night, no one was anyone's sister, lover, soldier, or secret of men who'd kill without blinking. We weren't watching our backs. We weren't waiting for someone to bleed.

We were just girls.

Just us.

There was something sacred in that. In the click of heels against marble, in the quiet confidence that came from knowing we didn't have to ask permission to exist.

Cecilia was already pushing open the front door, cold air slipping inside like a sharp breath. Chrysanthe followed, silent and fluid, like a shadow in motion.

The driver didn't ask questions. Just nodded and opened the door as we slid into the car one by one, the city lights already spilling in through the tinted windows.