Rosalia pushes the others aside, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "Sienna, look at me," she commands, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. "You need to always, always be careful. Do you understand me? You are not invincible, and you cannot keep giving us these scares. We love you too much to watch you get hurt because you forgot to use your head."
I swallow the lump in my throat, looking at the raw terror masked as anger on my older sisters' faces. "I know. I'm sorry. I promise I'll be more careful."
Eleonora hugs me again. “Rosalia is right, Sienna! We love you so much, and the thought of receiving a different kind of phone call tonight..." She cuts herself off, swallowing hard as tears blink in her eyes.
Behind Rosalia’s back, Camilla and Daniela exchange a look, and a sudden, bright burst of giggles breaks the heavy tension in the room.
"I mean, yeah, it’s completely terrifying and you almost died," Camilla whispers loudly, a proud grin spreading across her face. "But honestly? Sienna is a total badass."
"Girls, stop encouraging her!" Rosalia snaps, rounding on them, though the rigid tension in her shoulders finally begins to bleed away.
By the time we finish talking, crying, and laughing, it is well past midnight. Alessandro graciously gives us space the entire time, retreating to another part of the house until they are ready to go.
Usually, saying goodbye to them after a night like this would break my heart a little. And it does. But as I hug them one last time at the front door, a strange restlessness settles in my chest. I already miss him. I want him near me, despite how chaotic the night was.
The moment the car carrying them pulls down the driveway, I turn back into the house. Alessandro is waiting in the hallway, his face unreadable, his shirt slightly open at the collar, the edge of the clean white bandage on his shoulder visible beneath it.
“You should sleep,” he says quietly.
“So should you.”
Neither of us moves for a second. Then, without thinking too much about it, I reach for his hand. He looks down at our joined fingers, then leads me upstairs to his room.
Nothing happens between us.
Not like that.
We are both too exhausted, too bruised by the night, too aware of everything we almost lost. Alessandro lies beside me carefully, keeping to his uninjured side, but after a few minutes of staring into the dark, I shift closer.
“Is this okay?” I whisper.
His arm comes around me immediately. “Yes.”
So I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart until the terror of the night finally loosens its grip on me. For the first time since the warehouse, I feel safe enough to close my eyes.
And I sleep.
The next morning, I wake up alone.
For a moment, panic rushes through me, sharp and sudden. But then I hear a dull, rhythmic sound coming from somewhere below. A heavy thud. Then another.
I get dressed quickly and follow the noise through the villa until I reach a large training room at the back of the house.
Alessandro is inside.
He is shirtless, his injured shoulder wrapped tightly, sweat gleaming over his chest as he strikes a heavy bag with brutal precision. Even wounded, he looks terrifyingly controlled. Powerful. Beautiful in a way that makes my breath catch.
He stops the second he sees me in the doorway.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he says.
I lean against the doorframe. “So are you.”
His dark eyes track over me, softening just a fraction before his expression closes again. “Did you sleep?”
“Yes,” I say, stepping inside. “Because of you.”
For a beat, neither of us speaks.
