Chapter 24 Beatrice #2
My phone—thrown into the leaves—lights up. Valerio’s name flashes across the screen like a lifeline cutting through the dark.
My chest heaves, sharp and ragged. I press a hand over my heart as if I can will it back into rhythm, but it only pounds harder, louder, drowning out the world.
The ground tilts. My hands tremble. My knees threaten to give way.
“Beatrice.”
The sound is distant at first, then clearer, closer, cutting through the ringing in my ears.
“Beatrice.”
Arms wrap around me—strong, sure, anchoring. The scent of leather and spice hits me before the warmth does.
Valerio.
I clutch his jacket like a lifeline. My fingers curl into the fabric, pulling him in as if he’s the only thing tethering me to the earth. I bury my face against his chest and squeeze my eyes shut.
One… two… three…
My breaths slow by fractions. The panic loosens its fist—but it doesn’t leave. It never does.
“Beatrice.” His voice is clipped, tight, too controlled. “Are you okay?”
I lift my head. Tears blur my vision. The world wavers around me, and fear slides into my bones like ice water.
“Daniele,” I choke out. “Where—where is he?” I push off Valerio’s chest, stumbling to my feet. “Giacomo—he was—he wants—oh my God, I need to get to my son!”
“Beatrice, hey—look at me.” Valerio grabs my arms, steadying me, grounding me.
“He’s safe. I have four guards with him already. He’s in the car waiting for you. He’s fine, Bea. I promise.”
The words hit like oxygen. My lungs expand. A fraction of the terror eases.
My son is safe.
Valerio’s eyes darken. “You need to tell me what the hell happened. How did he get you all the way out here?”
“He… he…” My throat closes around every word. “I was getting ice cream and then—he was there. He had a knife. I couldn’t—fuck—I should’ve fought him. I should’ve run. I just—froze.”
“It’s okay,” he says, though his jaw flexes hard enough to crack. “Did he hurt you? What did he say?”
I swallow. Hard. My voice fractures when I force the truth out.
“No, he… I’m okay.”
The words scrape out of me, thin and brittle.
Valerio’s jaw tightens. “Bea…”
The softness in his voice—so rare, so unguarded—cracks something open in my chest. My lips start to tremble, then my hands. I try to hold myself together, but I can’t.
I fold, and he’s there instantly, arms locking around me, solid and sure. A broken sound slips out of me—half breath, half cry—and I cling to him because I need something steady when I’m not.
“What did he say?” he asks again, quieter, like he already fears the answer.
I fist his jacket and press my forehead into him. My voice is barely a breath.
“He knows.”
Valerio goes still. Every muscle. Every breath.
“About Daniele,” I whisper. “He knows he’s not Matteo’s.”
“Jesus Christ.” His head snaps toward the park, scanning the tree line, the exits, the shadows—like Giacomo might step out again.
I grab his wrist, hard enough to make him look at me.
“Please. Don’t tell Matteo.”
His expression freezes. “Beatrice—”
“If you tell him, he’ll go after Giacomo. He’ll chase him head-on. And that’s exactly what Giacomo wants. He wants to drag him into a war, Valerio. He wants him exposed. Matteo will walk straight into it, and I’ll lose him. Daniele will lose him. And if there’s a war… I could lose Daniele too.”
His eyes lock onto mine. Conflicted. Torn. Bleeding loyalty on both sides.
He’s Matteo’s second. His shield. His sword. But he’s also my friend. And he knows Giacomo doesn’t fight clean. He knows this is a trap wrapped in blood.
“I can’t lie to him,” he says, voice low.
“I’m not asking you to lie.” My voice cracks but I keep going.
“I’m asking you not to destroy him. If Matteo finds out Giacomo held a knife to my throat once again, it’s over.
There will be no reasoning with him. No strategy.
Just war. And Giacomo already slipped into the city without you knowing.
That means there are cracks. Weak spots.
And until they’re sealed, we’re exposed. ”
His throat works as he swallows.
He looks over his shoulder. Then back at me.
A long, heavy pause stretches between us—an oath warring with a plea.
Finally, he exhales.
“I won’t say anything.” He rubs a hand over his face. “But I’m beefing up your security. And if he asks, I’ll tell him there are whispers Giacomo is back. It’ll buy me time to figure out what the hell he’s planning and how he got past us.”
Relief hits so hard my knees nearly give out. I sag against him, breathing in short, shuddering pulls.
He holds me tighter, solid and unmoving, letting me fall apart because he knows I won’t fall for long.
“I’ll keep you safe, principessa,” he murmurs into my hair. His voice is a vow forged in steel. “I’ll end that fucker. And I’ll make sure you’re safe again.”
I nod into his chest, gripping him as the wind cuts through the trees, the city roaring faintly around us.
This is a fight I cannot lose and I am willing to bloody my own hands to ensure that I don’t. If this is the only way to protect Daniele then so be it.
I will become the very monster he is in order to take him down if I must.