(Emery’s POV)
The hospital room was dim.
Trey lay on the bed, wrists bruised, lip split, one eye swollen nearly shut. He looked like someone who’d been locked away in a nightmare — and barely clawed his way back out.
But he was alive.
Barely.
Luca paced near the window while Emery sat at Trey’s bedside, waiting for him to say something — anything.
After several long moments, Trey finally blinked his one good eye.
“You’re okay,” she whispered.
He gave a weak smirk. “Define ‘okay.’”
Luca moved closer. “Who did this to you?”
Trey coughed, winced, and then looked straight at Luca.
“…Your dad.”
⸻
Silence.
It slammed into the room like a gunshot.
Luca stared at Trey, frozen.
“What the hell did you just say?”
Trey shifted, pained but clear. “Dean was just the distraction. The one
