Page 99 of Veil of Obsession

“I look good,” I counter, my smirk deepening.

She snorts, shaking her head as she smooths a hand over my cheek. “Always so full of yourself. Sit. Eat.”

I chuckle, letting her guide me toward the sitting room, where everyone is already gathered. Emiliano is in his usual spot, legs stretched out, his expression unreadable as he talks in low tones with Romiro. Val sits beside him, her legs tucked under her, rocking nine-month-old Bianca. Little Bee’s face is nestled against Val’s shoulder, her tiny fingers curled into Valentina’s sweater.

I move toward Valentina, leaning over to peer down at my niece.

“There’s my little Bee,” I murmur, brushing a knuckle gently across her soft cheek.

She stirs slightly, making another quiet babbling sound.

Valentina sighs. “You spoil her, you know.”

I smile, taking Bianca from her arms and cradling her against my chest. She’s warm, tiny, smelling like milk and something sweet.

“Yeah? And?” I mutter, rocking her gently.

Valentina rolls her eyes playfully. “You act like she’s your kid.”

I grin down at Bianca, who has curled her fist into the chain around my neck, her tiny fingers barely able to grip it.

“She’s the only one around here who doesn’t give me shit,” I say, stroking my thumb over her soft little hand.

“Yet,” Emiliano mutters from his seat, lifting his coffee cup to his lips.

I chuckle, rocking Bianca a little more and watching the way she nuzzles against my chest, completely at peace. Ma watches me from across the room, her sharp gaze assessing.

“One day, Lucio,” she says, voice calm and deliberate, “you’re going to have a family of your own.”

I snort. “Doubt it.”

She hums like she knows something I don’t. And for some fucking reason, that makes my stomach tighten.

I hand Bianca back to Valentina, taking a seat across from Emiliano. The conversation turns to business, moving quickly from the drugs we need to move in a couple of days to the need to find whoever caused the security breach.

Ma, Valentina and Mara sit nearby, talking in hushed words. And the moment is quiet. Too quiet.

Then—the sound of glass shattering.

Everything shifts in an instant. Instinct takes over. I grab my gun; Emiliano does the same. Romiro is already halfway out of his chair.

The front doors burst open, men in masks, armed to the teeth, flooding the house like shadows. Then gunfire.

The first shot rings out, cutting through the room like a blade. Emiliano barely has time to move, his chair toppling back as bullets tear through the air.

He goes straight for Valentina and Bianca, but the gunmen are already turning their sights on them. I barely have time to think, to move.

But Ma does. She throws herself forward, arms outstretched, covering Valentina and Bianca, shielding them with her body.

And she takes the hit.

A shot slams into her chest, another into her shoulder. She gasps, her body jerking with the impact, blood blooming across her shirt and staining the delicate silver chain around her neck.

“No—” Valentina chokes, clutching Bianca tighter, shielding the baby against her chest, shaking.

I don’t have time to process it. Don’t have time to think. I fire.

Once. Twice. Three times. One of the gunmen goes down, blood splattering the walls.