The tension in the car was so thick it was almost suffocating. The soft hum of the engine was the only sound as we sped through the city, streetlights casting fleeting glows over Nico's sharp features. I sat in the back seat, arms crossed tightly over my chest, glaring out the window. Nico sat beside me, his energy vibrating with barely contained anger. Luca was in the passenger seat up front, and Vito was driving, both of them far too quiet, trying to make themselves invisible. They knew better than to get involved when Nico and I were at each other’s throats.
Finally, Nico broke the silence, his voice a low, seething hiss. “I can’t believe you,” he said, his tone dripping with fury. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
I didn’t turn to look at him, but I could feel the heat of his
