Page 101 of Veil of Obsession

I help Valentina onto the second stretcher, watching the way her fingers tremble as she grips Bianca, refusing to let her go.

I don’t look back at the house. I don’t look at the bodies we left cooling on the floor.

Because this? This isn’t over.

37

Lucio

The smell of antiseptic burns my fucking nose.

Hospitals always smell like this: too clean, too sterile, too fucking unnatural. Like they’re trying to cover up the fact that people are dying inside these walls every second.

I run a bloodstained hand over my face, my body stiff from holding myself together for too long. I can hear Emiliano losing his shit down the hall, his voice cutting through the thick tension that hangs in the air.

“I don’t give a fuck how it happened. I want to know wholetit happen!”

The words echo off the walls, sharp and lethal, sending a fresh wave of rage through me.

“A breach like this doesn’t just happen!” Emiliano snarls, shoving a chair over, the metal clattering against the tile floor. “Someone fucked up, and when I find out who, I’ll make them beg for death before they even get a taste of it.”

No one dares to say shit. Even Romiro, usually the only one other than Valetina who can calm Emiliano down, is just standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight.

I clench my fists, trying to keep my breathing steady, but my vision keeps blurring red.

Ma is fighting for her life. Valentina is still in her hospital room, hooked up to a fucking IV, cradling Bianca like she’s afraid someone is going to rip her from her arms.

Mara hasn’t spoken since we got here, just sitting there, her hands trembling, staring at nothing.

Romiro finally exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “We need to get Mara out of New York. It’s becoming harder to keep her safe here.”

Emiliano grits his teeth, his rage barely contained. “Where?”

“Nicolo.” Romiro’s voice is calm, steady. “We’ll have him take her to Naples for a while. Keep her locked down until this is handled.”

Emiliano doesn’t even hesitate. “Do it.”

No one argues. Because he’s right. This war is just starting, and New York isn’t safe anymore.

Was it ever safe?

I lean against the cold wall, my head pounding, my body vibrating with the urge to hunt the motherfuckers who did this and carve them apart piece by fucking piece. The rage is there, sitting heavy in my chest, suffocating.

I don’t even register Matteo stepping up beside me until he speaks.

“Lucio.”

Something in his tone makes my stomach twist. A warning. A weight. I lift my head, meeting his gaze.

His expression is grim. “Tell me you’re not involved with the Gambi girl.”

My heart fucking stops.

“What?” My voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Matteo doesn’t blink. Doesn’t look away. “I traced the signal back to her house.”

The floor feels like it drops out beneath me.