I nod toward the door.
Nora's face is pale but composed. "Pietro stayed at the compound with Bruno and Vittoria. He said?—"
"Bruno." My hands curl into fists. "That fucking?—"
"What the hell did Luna tell you?" Nico cuts me off, getting in my face. "Lorenzo, what the fuck is going on?"
I laugh, but it sounds more like breaking glass. "You want to know what she told me? Your precious brother Riccardo was fucking her. The whole time I was falling apart over her, thinking I loved her, he was screwing her behind my back."
Nico's face drains of color. "That's not?—"
"She was pregnant when she left." Each word comes out harder, sharper. "Pregnant with either mine or his kid. And Bruno—" I have to stop, my chest heaving. "Bruno helped her fake her death. Helped her escape. Knew everything and kept his mouth shut while I spent twelve years thinking I got her killed."
"Jesus Christ," Nora whispers.
"I've got her locked in my office at Rosso's." My voice drops to something dangerous. "And if Sophia doesn't make it, if she dies because of their lies, their secrets—" I meet Nico's eyes. "I'll kill them both. Slowly. I don't give a fuck if Bruno's my brother. I'll make him watch while I take Luna apart piece by piece, then I'll do the same to him."
"Lorenzo—" Nico starts.
"No!" The word explodes out of me. "I kept Giuseppe's secret to protect everyone. Carried that weight for twelve years so it wouldn't destroy our family. And Bruno? He acts like I'm the villain while hiding that our brother was fucking the woman who ruined my life?"
I slam my fist into the wall. The drywall cracks.
"If Sophia suffers because of them, if she—" I can't finish the sentence. Can't even think it. "They'll vanish. Both of them. Like they never existed."
Nico runs his hand through his hair. "This is fucked. This is so fucked."
"Sir?" A nurse appears in the doorway, looking terrified. "Mrs. Sartori is out of the surgery room. She's... she's alive."
My knees almost buckle. "And Marina?"
"Still in surgery, but stable."
I'm already moving toward the door. "Take me to my wife."
"She's unconscious?—"
"I don't care." I tower over the nurse. "Take me to her. Now."
The nurse nods quickly, leading us down a hallway that seems to stretch forever. Each step feels like walking through quicksand.
She's alive. Sophia's alive.
But alive doesn't mean okay. Doesn't mean she'll wake up. Doesn't mean she'll forgive me for Luna, for the danger I brought into her life.
The nurse leads me into a room. Sophia lies in the hospital bed, so still she could be a corpse if not for the slight rise and fall of her chest.
"The bruising around her neck will fade," the nurse says, checking monitors. "She was without oxygen for approximately forty-five seconds. We ran a full neurological panel. No signs of permanent damage."
My legs threaten to give out. I grip the doorframe. "The blood. She was covered in blood."
"Not hers." The nurse adjusts an IV line. "We found defensive wounds on her hands—scrapes, a broken nail—but the blood belonged to her attacker."
She fought. My girl fought.
"And..." I force the words out. "Was she... did he..."
"No sexual assault." The nurse's voice softens. "We performed a full examination. There's bruising on her arms where she was restrained, but nothing else."
