The silence that follows is deafening.
For a moment, no one moves. No one breathes.
Then the sound of a pained groan wrenches through my body like a bullet, and I whirl.
Miko’s on his knees, hunched over Raf, Leo and Gio watching from a short distance—as Raf slowly, painfully pushes himself up onto one elbow to look at me.
My heart lurches.
He’s not dead.
I’m sprinting toward him before I even make the decision, my feet carrying me forward of their own accord. Raf’s sitting up now, his suit jacket shredded at the shoulder, blood soaking through the fabric. And Miko rips the sleeve clean off to get a better look before pressing his hand against the wound.
“It just grazed him. Missed anything vital,” Miko says, voice tight as I collapse beside my twin on the hard stone floor, searching Raf for any further injuries.
He gives Miko a weak glare. “You didn’t have to tackle me that hard,” he grumbles. “I think you broke a rib.”
“Yeah, well, you’re welcome for saving your life,” Miko shoots back, though his voice is laced with too much relief to sound irritated.
Anika pushes through the cluster of people gathering around them, her face pale but furious. “You idiot,” she hisses, slapping Miko’s arm. “You have a wife and a child on the way. What were you thinking, throwing yourself in front of a bullet?” She’s shaking with either fear or rage, the blood spattering her dress making her words all the more grave.
And when Miko looks up at his wife, his expression softens. He opens his mouth, closes it, then sighs as he comes to a standand takes a cautious step toward her. “I didn’t really have time to consider a list of pros and cons. I guess I’m just hardwired to protect my brothers,” he says, extending a blood-soaked hand as if trying to calm a frightened animal.
But she takes a step back, swatting it away as tears well in her eyes. “Don’t youeverdo that to me again,” she insists, her breath hitching.
“Topolina,” Miko objects, trying again, but Raf cuts in. “She’s right, Miko. You have your own family to think of now. Your own legacy and empire. I appreciate your support, your loyalty. But you don’t get to trade your life for mine. Never again. Understood?”
Miko frowns down at him, then gives a single, grudging nod. Only then does Anika throw her arms around his neck, and her soft sobs fill the room as she buries her face against his chest, Miko’s arms wrapping around her.
“How bad is it?” I ask Raf, nodding to his shoulder now that it’s bleeding freely once more.
“It’s nothing,” he insists, glancing down at it as he turns to show me.
Miko was right. The bullet just grazed him, but the laceration’s still deep. “You’ll need stitches,” I observe, turning to scan the crowd for Evi. My heart stutters when I don’t find her immediately by the pillar where I left her. “Evi!” I call, my head snapping around as panic surges through my chest.
Then I spot her weaving her way through the crowd, first aid kit in hand.
“I’m here,” she says breathlessly as she rushes toward us, dress swishing, eyes wide with concern.
My wave of frustration with her for disobeying me and risking her safety is quickly chased away by relief and gratitude that she could recognize what we needed so immediately.
Her hands are trembling as she drops to the ground beside Raf, but she’s steady enough to assess his wound. “I can patch you up to slow the bleeding until a doctor gets here,” she says, her gold-flecked eyes flicking in my direction. “Or I can stitch you up. But I don’t have anything to numb the pain.”
Her calm, level voice surprises me. I can see she’s shaking underneath, but she doesn’t let it show. And while I’m certain she’s used to sewing me back together by now, I highly doubt she’s been through a gunfight before tonight. Still, she’s put on a brave face and works methodically to clean Raf’s wound, getting right to work as she waits for his decision.
“Stitch me up,dottoressa,” he teases, giving her a faint smile. “I’ll live with what you have tonight. But remind me to get you any medical supplies you need,” Raf says, casting me a sidelong glance that silently calls me an idiot for not having thought to provide her with the proper tools before now.
Evi blushes but gets to work, preparing her needle and thread as soon as the cut is properly sanitized.
“You married a good one, Sandro,” Raf observes as he watches my wife work, her hands growing steadier with each stitch.
I swallow hard. My throat feels raw. “Yeah,” I manage, though my voice barely comes out.
Because now that the fighting is done and the ballroom is empty of all but our family and soldiers, the guilt of my inattentiveness has come back with crushing force. I should’ve been there. Should’ve been between Raf and that bullet. Not Miko, who—like Raf said—has his own family to worry about.
Instead, I was hiding in the shadows, chasing a stolen moment I didn’t deserve.
Standing, I slowly scan the ballroom. The damage is everywhere—shattered glass, overturned tables, blood smeared across the marble of the room Evi worked so hard to put back together. At least ten dead bodies litter the space.
