Chapter 33 #2
I walk into the house. The foyer is empty. Silent.
My footsteps echo on the marble floor.
I reach the stairs.
"Dante."
I stop.
Bruno stands at the top of the staircase.
His face is wrecked.
Red eyes. Wet cheeks. The kind of raw grief that strips away everything else.
He's been crying.
Bruno Sartori. The man who clawed his way back from a wheelchair through sheer force of will. Who became Don through blood and fire.
He's been crying for his brother.
He descends the stairs.
I don't move.
He reaches me. Stops.
Then he pulls me into an embrace.
His arms wrap around me. Tight. Desperate. The embrace of a man who's lost too much and is holding onto what's left.
I go still.
I can't do this.
The thought cuts through everything. Sharp. Devastating.
I can't do this.
Bruno's body shakes against mine. Silent sobs he's trying to hide.
"Is there anything left?" Bruno's voice is rough. Broken. "Anything we can—"
He can't finish the sentence.
I shake my head.
"The bomb." The words taste like ash. "It detonated when Lorenzo was close enough. Our cleaning team found—"
I stop.
Bruno pulls back. His eyes search my face.
"Found what?"
"Pieces." The word comes out flat. Clinical. "Body pieces. Everywhere."
Bruno closes his eyes.
His jaw clenches. His hands curl into fists at his sides.
"Alejandro." He says the name like a curse. "I'm going to find him. I'm going to tear him apart with my bare hands."
I nod.
"We will." The lie slides out smooth. Easy. "Together."
Bruno opens his eyes. Studies me.
For a moment, I think he sees it. The truth. The betrayal hiding behind my grief.
But he just nods.
"Go to Sophia." He steps aside. "She needs—" His voice breaks. "She needs everyone right now."
I climb the stairs.
I hear crying. Multiple voices.
I stop in the doorway.
The room is chaos.
Sophia lies on the bed, curled into a ball. Her body shakes with sobs. Marina sits beside her, holding her, stroking her hair.
Marina looks up.
Her eyes find mine.
"Dante."
She's off the bed before I can react. Running toward me. Throwing herself into my arms.
I catch her. Hold her.
Her body trembles against mine. Her fingers dig into my back.
"I thought—" She chokes on the words. "When you left, I thought—"
"I'm here." I press my lips to her hair. "I'm here."
She pulls back. Her hands cup my face. Her thumbs brush the scratches on my cheek.
"You're hurt."
"It's nothing."
"Dante—"
"Marina." I take her hands. Lower them. "I'm fine."
She doesn't believe me. I can see it in her eyes.
But she doesn't push.
Movement on the bed.
Sophia turns.
Her eyes find mine.
They're dead.
Empty.
The vibrant, fierce woman I've known for years is gone. What's left is a shell. A hollow thing wearing Sophia's face.
"Dante." Her voice is flat. Emotionless. "You were there."
It's not a question.
"Yes."
"Did he suffer?"
The question hits me like a bullet.
"No." The lie comes easy. Too easy. "It was instant. He didn't feel anything."
Sophia stares at me.
I can't read her expression. Can't tell if she believes me.
Then she speaks.
"I'm pregnant."
The words hang in the air.
Marina's hand tightens on mine.
"I found out yesterday." Sophia's voice doesn't waver. Doesn't break. It's the calm of someone who's already shattered. "I was going to tell him this morning. I was going to—"
She stops.
Her hand moves to her stomach.
"My baby won't have a father."
The room goes silent.
I stand frozen.
Pregnant.
Sophia is pregnant with Lorenzo's child.
And now, everything goes even worse than they already are.
Marina
Sophia's breathing finally evens out.
I watch her chest rise and fall. The sedative Giulia gave her took twenty minutes to work. They asked a doctor first. Twenty minutes of holding her while she sobbed. While she repeated Lorenzo's name like a prayer that would bring him back.
It won't.
I ease off the bed. Careful. Slow. My hand slips from hers.
She doesn't stir.
I stand there for a moment. Looking at my best friend. At the woman who survived so much only to lose everything in one night.
Pregnant.
She's pregnant and alone.
I back toward the door. Giulia catches my eye from the chair in the corner. She nods. A silent promise to stay. To watch over Sophia while she sleeps.
I slip into the hallway.
The house is quiet now. The chaos of the morning has settled into something heavier. Grief hangs in the air like smoke.
I find our bedroom door. Push it open.
Dante stands by the window. His back to me. His shoulders rigid.
He doesn't turn when I enter.
I close the door behind me. The click sounds too loud in the silence.
"She's asleep." My voice comes out rough. Raw from crying. "Giulia's with her."
Dante nods. Still doesn't turn.
I cross the room. Stop a few feet behind him.
"What happened?"
The question hangs between us.
Dante's shoulders tense. Then release.
"A bomb." His voice is flat. Controlled. "Planted in a warehouse we were checking. Lorenzo went in first. I was—" He stops. Swallows. "I was checking the perimeter. The explosion—"
He doesn't finish.
He doesn't need to.
"How did you get separated?"
Dante finally turns. His face is pale beneath the scratches. His eyes are dark. Empty.
"That's how we always worked." He shrugs. One shoulder. Casual. "Lorenzo takes point. I cover the exits. Standard protocol."
I study him.
Something's wrong.
Not just grief. Not just shock. Something else.
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
Dante goes still.
"Why do you say that?"
I sigh.
The sound fills the space between us. Heavy. Tired.
I move closer. Close enough to touch him. Close enough to see the tension in his jaw. The way his hands curl at his sides.
"I know something terrible is happening." I keep my voice soft. Careful. "And it's not just Lorenzo's death."
Dante's eyes meet mine.
I see it then. The wall. The barrier he's built between us.
"You've been strange." I reach up. Touch his cheek. The scratches are rough beneath my fingers. "Since you met with Alejandro. Since Denver. Something changed and you won't tell me what."
Dante closes his eyes.
His hand comes up. Covers mine. Presses my palm against his face.
"I'm not okay." His voice cracks. Splinters. "How can I be okay when this shit happens?"
He pulls away. Rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.
"Lorenzo is dead." The words come out rough. Broken. "My brother is dead. Sophia is pregnant. And I couldn't—I couldn't save him."
I watch him.
My chest aches.
But something doesn't fit.
He was like this before. Before the explosion. Before Lorenzo died. He was distant. Closed off.
I should push.
I should demand answers.
I should tell him I know he's lying. That I can feel the secrets between us.
But I don't.
I step back.
Dante's eyes open. Find mine.
Something flickers in his expression. Relief? Disappointment?
I can't tell.
"Get some sleep." I move toward the bathroom. "You need rest."
"Marina—"
"We'll talk later." I don't turn around. "When things are calmer."
I close the bathroom door behind me.
Lean against it.
My hands shake.
I know I'm making a mistake. I know that stepping back now, letting him keep his secrets, will cost me something.
But I can't push. Not today.
I wonder how much I'm going to regret this.
How much I'm going to regret stepping back again.