While every minute I wasted here gave that person more road, more distance, more time.
I stare at Victor.
Waiting for a twitch. A blink. A shift in his face.
Anything that tells me this is one final lie from a dying man trying to hurt me.
But the only thing I see is satisfaction.
Only the ugly peace of a man who knows the wound he just opened may never close.
“You should see your face,” Victor whispers.
Then his eyes roll back.
His body goes slack in the chair just as my now charged phone rings.
“It’s Luca,” Spike says, my phone in his hands.
“Answer it.”
He puts the call on speaker.
“Tell me,” I snap.
Luca’s voice comes through tight and controlled. “Stefano is awake.”
The world stops.
For half a second, I forget Victor.
Forget the room.
Forget the blood drying on my hands.
“He’s awake?” I ask.
“Yes,Don. He’s asking for you.”
My knees almost give.
A few hours ago, Luca called to tell me Stefano had made it out of surgery. The doctor said the bullet missed anything vital. By the grace of God and stubborn Moretti blood, my brother would live.
Sore, weak, and angry.
But alive.
I should have felt relief then.
I couldn’t.
Not with Amelia and Olivia gone.
But now he’s awake.
Stefano saw.
My brother saw the man who took them.
