I open the door. Step out.
I walk toward the front door.
The door opens before I reach it.
Giulia stands in the doorway. Her face is pale. Her eyes are red.
"Dante." She says my name like a prayer. Like she's thanking God I'm alive.
She rushes forward. Wraps her arms around me.
I go still.
Her embrace is warm. Maternal. The kind of touch I haven't felt since my mother died.
"Thank God." She pulls back. Studies my face. Her fingers brush the scratches on my cheek. "You're hurt."
"It's nothing." My voice sounds wrong. Too flat. I adjust. Add grief. "I couldn't—I tried to get to him. I couldn't."
Giulia's eyes fill with tears.
"Everyone is in Sophia's bedroom." She steps aside. "Go. They need you."
I nod.
I walk into the house. The foyer is empty. Silent.
My footsteps echo on the marble floor.
I reach the stairs.
"Dante."
I stop.
Bruno stands at the top of the staircase.
His face is wrecked.
Red eyes. Wet cheeks. The kind of raw grief that strips away everything else.
He's been crying.
Bruno Sartori. The man who clawed his way back from a wheelchair through sheer force of will. Who became Don through blood and fire.
He's been crying for his brother.
He descends the stairs.
I don't move.
He reaches me. Stops.
Then he pulls me into an embrace.
His arms wrap around me. Tight. Desperate. The embrace of a man who's lost too much and is holding onto what's left.
I go still.
