Page 101

I drift into darkness, my mind receding beneath heavy waves of sedation. The edges of consciousness blur, and suddenly I'm somewhere else—a cold, sterile room with harsh fluorescent lights that make everything look sickly green.
People in hospital gowns huddle against walls, their faces hollow with terror. A woman with matted hair reaches for me, her eyes wild with desperation. "Please help us," she begs, tears streaming down her gaunt face. "They're coming back."
I try to speak, but no sound comes out. More faces appear—a teenage boy clutching his side where bandages are soaked through with blood, an elderly man rocking back and forth, mumbling prayers.
The scene shifts. My father and Raymond stand in what looks like a luxurious office, crystal glasses of amber liquid in their hands. They're laughing, the sound echoing unnaturally loud.
"The younger ones fetch the highest prices," Raymond says, his smile revealing too many teeth. "Especially the girls."
My father nods, raising his glass. "To profitable partnerships."
I try to scream, to run, but I'm frozen in place, forced to watch as they toast over people's lives.
The scene warps again. I'm alone in a dark corridor. Footsteps echo behind me—getting closer, faster. I finally find my legs and run, my heart pounding against my ribs.
"Melania," Raymond's voice slithers through the darkness. "Did you really think you could escape?"
I glance back and see him gaining on me, a scalpel glinting in his hand.
"Your kidneys will fetch a good price," he calls, his voice almost playful. "Such a healthy young specimen."
I run faster, my lungs burning, doors appearing and disappearing along the endless hallway. I grab one handle, then another—all locked.
Finally, a door gives way. I yank it open?—
I wake up screaming, my body jackknifing upright. Strong arms immediately envelop me, pulling me against a solid chest.
"I've got you," Alessio's voice cuts through my panic. "You're safe,piccola. You're safe."
My fingers clutch at his shirt, twisting the fabric as I gasp for air. My skin is slick with sweat, hair plastered to my face and neck.
"Raymond," I choke out, still half-trapped in the nightmare. "He was coming for me?—"
"He can't touch you," Alessio says fiercely, one hand cradling the back of my head. "I won't let him near you."
I press my face against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat until my breathing slows. The room gradually comes back into focus—Alessio's bedroom at the Feretti estate, not the nightmare hospital corridor.
"I need to talk to Leo," I say when I can finally speak without my voice shaking. "Please. I need to see him."
Alessio pulls back slightly, studying my face. "Are you sure? You should rest more?—"
"I can't go back to sleep," I interrupt, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to me. "Please, Alessio. I need to talk to my brother."
I study Melania's face, pale against the dark bedsheet. The sedative has worn off, leaving her eyes clear but haunted. Part of me wants to keep her here, safe and protected, but I know better than to deny her this.
"Okay," I concede, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Stay here. I'll get him."
She nods, twisting her mother's ring anxiously as I rise from the bed. I pause at the door, looking back at her small form propped against the pillows. Something fierce and possessive surges through me at the sight.
I make my way downstairs, my footsteps heavy. The house is quiet except for the low murmur of voices coming from Damiano's office. When I push open the door three heads turn toward me.
Leonardo sits at Damiano's desk, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. Dark circles shadow his eyes, making him look older than his twenty-five years. Matteo leans against the wall, while Damiano stands behind Leonardo, examining something on a laptop screen.
"She's awake," I announce, my voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "She wants to see you."
Leonardo straightens immediately, his eyes—so like Melania's—fixing on me with intensity. "How is she?"
"Ruminating," I say simply. "The sedative's worn off."