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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...
Rocco had a glass of something dark in his hand, eyes half-lidded with boredom.
Giovanni and Alessio were both half-standing near the coffee table, in the middle of some animated conversation. And of course, Lorenzo—clean, composed, and quiet—sat perched on the armrest of the longest couch, sipping espresso like a king.
As soon as they saw me, the room shifted.
"Hi, bambina" Rocco said first, giving me a lazy grin.
"Hey, principessa," Matteo followed, grinning through his mouthful of nuts.
"Hi, tesoro," Adriano and Giovanni said in perfect unison.
Their heads snapped toward each other immediately, each one glaring like the other had committed some unspeakable crime.
"You called her tesoro?"
"I always call her that."
"Since when?!"
"Since before you were shaving, idiot."
"Say it again and I'll break your nose—"
I raised one hand, silencing them with a smirk. "Relax. You're both dramatic."
Adriano muttered something under his breath, still glaring at Gio, who returned it with a dramatic eye roll.
I stepped further into the room, folding my arms.
"I found him," I said.
Every expression in the room sharpened.
Lorenzo was the first to speak. "Eric Wheeler?"
I nodded.
A pause followed—short, heavy.
Rocco stood up straighter, his eyes losing their usual sleepiness. Alessio, who hadn't said a word yet, leaned forward just slightly, hands clasped.
"Where?" Lorenzo asked calmly.
"Chicago," I said. "My men are already on him. He'll be here by tomorrow morning."
"Alive?" Giovanni asked.
"Alive," I confirmed. "Barely, if he fights."
Adriano cracked his knuckles, grinning darkly. "He better not."
Matteo gave a small nod of approval. "Good. I was getting bored."
"Anything you want us to do?" Alessio asked. His voice was quieter than the others, but there was something hard in it.
"Not yet," I said. "Just be ready."
They all nodded.
There was a strange comfort in it—in their wordless agreement, in the way they fell into line like gravity held them there.
"I'll let you know when he's brought in," I said.
I turned to go, but before I reached the hallway, I heard Lorenzo's voice behind me.
"Principessa,"
I paused, glancing back.
His eyes were serious. "Be careful."
That weight again—like a hand pressed gently against my spine. Not heavy, not demanding. Just there. Familiar.
"I always am," I said softly.
I kept walking, the murmur of their voices fading as I headed upstairs.
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