Carlino's POV
The hallway felt too small, its narrow walls pressing in on me like the anger coiling in my chest. Beside me, Dr. Valenti hurried to keep his pace, the rattle of his medical bag a domestic rhythm that felt absurd here, in the house of the Don Lacentra.
“She collapsed, you said. Can you tell me what happened?” Valenti asked, voice tight and careful.
“I don’t pay you for a history lesson, Valenti. I pay you for a diagnosis.” My eyes didn’t leave the oak door at the corridor’s end.
Lina was chaos in human form. Every time I thought I’d smoothed the edges of her defiance, she found another way to wound me. But this, the nausea, lack of eating, and now, fainting in front of a masked enemy I know nothing about—was different, strange.
That can't be just defiance. It was a c**
