Alessia Mancini
In the kitchen, the warm aroma of Chef's cooking lingered, a jarring reminder of normalcy. I turned on the tap, watching as the water ran pink with diluted blood. The metallic scent clung to my skin, a visceral reminder of the violence we'd just enacted.
Chef's eyebrow arched as he took in our appearance, his gaze lingering on my face. I could only imagine how I looked – flushed with adrenaline, eyes bright with barely contained rage.
"Everything alright, piccola?" he asked softly, concern etched in the lines of his face.
I forced a smile, not quite meeting his eyes. "Just fine, Chef. Nothing we can't handle."
My gaze fell on Riley, her blonde hair catching the light. My chest tightened at the thought of her being caught in this mess. I pulled her into a fierce hug, br
