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Alessio's expression softens slightly. "If anyone can survive a bullet, it's that stubborn bastard."
It's not exactly reassurance but I cling to it anyway.
"We're taking you both to the Feretti estate," he continues. "Dr. Romano will be waiting to examine you."
"I don't need—" Jessica begins.
"It's not optional," Alessio cuts her off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Damiano's orders."
I turn to Jessica, who's staring at me with wide, confused eyes. "Who's Damiano?" she whispers. "And why does he get to decide what happens to us?"
I glance at Alessio, hoping he'll ignore the question. Thankfully he keeps his attention on the road, pretending not to hear.
"Jess," I say softly, squeezing her hand. "For now we need to do as they say. I'll explain everything later, I promise."
Jessica looks like she wants to argue but something in my expression must convince her to hold back. She nods reluctantly then leans against the window, exhaustion evident in every line of her body.
I lean forward in my seat, addressing Alessio directly. "I need to go to the clinic. To see Noah."
Alessio's eyes flick to the rearview mirror, meeting mine briefly. "I have orders to take you both to the mansion."
"I don't care about your orders," I say, my voice stronger than I expected. "Noah took that bullet because of me. I need to be there."
"That's not how this works," Alessio replies, his tone firm but not unkind. "Damiano's instructions were clear."
"Please," I say, hating the desperation in my voice. "I need to know if he's okay."
Alessio sighs, his broad shoulders rising and falling. "Look, we go to the mansion first. Dr. Romano checks you both out. If he says you're okay I'll take you to Noah myself."
It's not what I want, but I recognize it's the best offer I'm going to get. I sit back, nodding my acceptance. "Thank you," I whisper.
Jessica looks between us, confusion written across her face, but she stays silent. I'll have to explain everything to her soon—about Noah, about Ivan, about the dangerous world I've dragged her into. But right now all I can think about is Noah lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life because of me.
The SUV pulls up to the Feretti mansion and I feel Jessica tense beside me. I can't blame her—the sprawling estate with its imposing gates and armed guards must look like something from a nightmare to her.
"It's okay," I say, though nothing about this situation is remotely okay.
As we approach the main entrance I spot a slender figure waiting in the doorway. Lucrezia Feretti stands with her arms crossed, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. When she sees our car she steps forward, her face etched with genuine concern.
Alessio helps Jessica out first, then offers me his hand. My legs feel wobbly as I stand, the events of the past hours catching up with me.
"Are you okay?" Lucrezia asks, rushing toward us. Her eyes scan us both for visible injuries. "Either of you hurt?"
The sincerity in her voice catches me off guard. This woman barely knows me, has never met Jessica, yet her concern seems completely genuine.
"We're not injured," I say, my voice hoarse. "Just... shaken."
Lucrezia nods, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "Of course you are. Come inside. Dr. Romano is waiting, and I've had rooms prepared for both of you."
Jessica looks at me questioningly and I give her a small nod of reassurance.
"Thank you," I tell Lucrezia as she guides us inside.
"Women need to look out for each other in this world," she says simply. "Especially inourworld."
Something about her words and the protective way she ushers us inside makes my throat tighten. Growing up, I never experienced this kind of female solidarity. My father constantly pitted me against other young musicians, creating an environment where every girl was a competitor, never an ally. The other girls responded in kind—sabotaging practice sessions, spreading rumors, hiding my sheet music before performances.
I learned early that I couldn't count on support from other women. My mother remained passive, watching from the sidelines as my father molded me into his perfect musical prodigy.