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The minute she turns around, my eyes lock onto her. Her striking features catch my attention, and I notice the exhaustion in her amber eyes.
T...
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V A L E N T I N A
The private jet hummed beneath me, the vibrations barely noticeable as I stared at the screen in front of me.
The glow of my laptop cast sharp shadows on my face, the only source of light in the dimly lit cabin. The air was thick with tension, heavy and suffocating. No one spoke. No one dared.
Not after what just happened.
I took a slow breath, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but my mind was a storm, too chaotic to focus.
Everything changed tonight.
I could still smell the blood. See the bodies. Hear the gunfire.
We barely got out in time if it wasn't for my men who came at the right time
My entire family—every single one of them—was on this jet. I made sure of it. I didn't wait for arguments, for questions, for hesitation. I commanded them to board, and for once, no one fought me on it.
Because they saw it in my eyes.
They saw that I wasn't just their sister tonight.
And I was dragging them all into war.
I shifted my gaze, scanning the jet.
The seating was luxurious, but no one looked comfortable. Some of my younger brothers had dozed off, exhaustion taking over. The twins, Fabio and Hiro, curled up on the plush seats, their small hands gripping each other. Marcello was slumped against Marco's shoulder, his face buried in his jacket. Giorgio was curled up on nonna's lap as he held her tightly.
The rest of my brothers sat stiffly, their expressions unreadable.
Dad was at the far end, arms crossed, a permanent scowl on his face. His knuckles were still stained with blood—he hadn't bothered to wipe them clean.
Lorenzo sat next to him, watching me closely.
Alessio and Matteo were near the back, whispering to each other. They weren't arguing. Not this time.
Even they knew shit just got real.
I went back to my laptop, typing in quick, sharp strokes. I was pulling every bit of intel I could find, cross-referencing the data with past threats, looking for patterns.
I needed answers.
The silence was thick.
A soft voice broke through it.
"Donna?" I glanced up. The flight attendant stood beside me, hands neatly folded in front of her. Her face was calm, but I saw the way her fingers trembled slightly.
