We pull up in front of my apartment, and I feel a mix of relief and dread. The events from earlier today play on a loop in my mind. That fight was quite unnecessary, if I’m being honest. I hate that Alessandro would side with Mia and try to doubt my brother. He was shot trying to save my father, and they still think there’s no way he could have gotten out on his own. It still hurts that Alessandro didn’t even attempt to defend my brother—or me, for that matter.
As Luca parks the car, I glance at Raul beside me. He’s pale, leaning back, but there’s a quiet determination in his eyes that reassures me. My father is seated silently in front, his attention ahead. Bella sits on my other side, gripping my hand as if she can read my thoughts, grounding me when I feel close to spiraling. My father
