Adriana

I woke to the sound of his breathing. Not the cold hiss of a machine, but the uneven, human rhythm of Matteo dragging air into his own lungs.

My head jerked up from the mattress where I’d fallen asleep, and for a heartbeat I thought I was dreaming.

Then I saw his eyes. Half-open, heavy with exhaustion, but awake. Watching me.

“Matteo?” My voice cracked on his name.

His lips moved, the sound low and raw, like gravel dragged across stone. “Adriana…”

I shot upright, clutching his hand in both of mine. “You’re awake. Dio, you’re awake.” My eyes blurred, tears slipping before I could stop them. I leaned closer. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

A faint smirk ghosted across his mouth, weak but still him. “I crash a car, and that’s your greeting?”

My relief bubbled into a broken laugh. “You almost died, and you’re still arrogant.”

His gaze softened, though his voice was faint. “I told you… nothing can kill me that easily.”

The door opened, and the doctor stepped in, checking Matteo’s monitors with quick efficiency. He gave me a smile before addressing him. “Your body’s stabilising. You’re breathing on your own now, Matteo. That’s a good sign. You’ll feel weak, but it’s progress.”

When the doctor left, I smoothed Matteo’s damp hair back from his forehead. “You scared me half to death.”

His fingers twitched in mine, gripping weakly. “And yet… You stayed.”

“Of course I stayed.” My voice shook, and I didn’t care. “Where else would I go?”

His gaze searched my face, like he was trying to memorise me through the haze of pain. “You’ve changed,” he murmured. “There’s something in your eyes now.”

I hesitated, then leaned closer, my lips brushing his ear. “I’m fighting for you, Matteo. For us. You’re not the only one willing to bleed.”

For a moment, silence stretched between us, broken only by the steady rhythm of his monitor. Then his lips curved again, tired but sure. “That’s my girl.”

I pressed my forehead to his, letting his shallow breath mingle with mine, and whispered, “Ti amo, Matteo.”

His eyes closed, not in weakness this time but in something softer. Peace. And even though I knew the war outside was closing in, for that moment, the world was only us.

I sat there, forehead still resting against his, but the words I’d been holding back for days clawed up my throat.

“Matteo,” I whispered, pulling back just enough to see his face. His eyes were tired, heavy-lidded, but sharp in a way that told me he was listening. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Adriana…” His voice was gravelly, strained, but still commanding.

“I can’t just sit here while Riccardo breathes.” My grip on his hand tightened. “I want to help. I will help. Marco and Lorenzo—”

His hand twitched weakly in mine, a warning. “No.”

“Yes.” The word tumbled out harsher than I meant, my voice cracking. “You’re lying here half-broken, and they’re already plotting the next move. And what am I supposed to do? Wait? Pretend I’m some porcelain doll while the man who nearly killed you keeps building his empire?”

Matteo’s eyes burned into me, sharp even through the haze of pain. “You’re not built for that world.”

His chest rose and fell unevenly, the effort of speaking already draining him.“That world… it eats people alive, Adriana. You go into it, you don’t come back the same.”

My throat ached, but I lifted my chin. “Then let it eat me. I don’t care. If it means tearing Riccardo apart from the inside, I’ll do it.”

He closed his eyes briefly, jaw tightening, his fingers twitching weakly against mine as if he wanted to grip tighter but couldn’t. “You don’t understand. The blood, the lies… it stains everything. I spent years trying to keep you away from it.”

His eyes opened again, locking on mine with a fierceness that made my heart twist. “Don’t make me watch it take you too.”

Tears pricked hot, but I didn’t look away. The monitor ticked steadily in the silence that followed. His lips parted, like he wanted to argue, but the fight in him sagged against the weight of his pain.

“You’re stubborn,” he rasped, almost a whisper.

I leaned down, pressing my lips to his blood-chapped knuckles. “I learned from the best.”

The room door swung open without warning, and Marco stepped in first, Lorenzo at his shoulder. Both of them froze mid-step, wide-eyed when they saw Matteo awake, speaking, alive.

“Holy shit,” Lorenzo muttered under his breath, the usual edge of sarcasm stripped away. For once, he looked like a boy caught between awe and relief.

Marco didn’t waste words. His sharp eyes swept Matteo over like he was checking the strength of a weapon. “You’re tougher than the doctors gave you credit for.”

Matteo’s lips curved, faint but defiant. “Doctors don’t know me.” He coughed, the sound ragged, but when he spoke again, his voice carried the weight of steel. “Don’t look so surprised. In no time, I’ll be out of here.”

I felt his hand twitch in mine, weak but deliberate. He turned his gaze from them to me, then back to his brothers. “When I come home, there’s no rest. We’ll need to visit every alliance we have left. Old friends, business partners… the ones waiting for a sign I’m not dead. They’ll need to see me with their own eyes, hear it from my mouth that war is coming.”

Lorenzo shifted, crossing his arms, but there was no joke this time. “You really think they’ll stand with us after Riccardo’s move?”

“They don’t have a choice,” Matteo said, his eyes burning despite the weakness in his body. “Riccardo wants to expand. He touches me, he touches all of them. This won’t just be a vendetta. It’s survival.”

Marco’s jaw tightened, a single nod acknowledging the truth in his brother’s words. “Then we start preparing. Quietly.”

Matteo leaned back against the pillows, the effort of speaking draining the color from his face, but his expression stayed unyielding. “Good. Because when I walk out of here, it won’t just be to live. It’ll be to fight.”

The silence that followed was heavy, charged, the kind that promised blood.

I tightened my fingers around his and cut the room off. “Listen,” I said, sitting up on the edge of the bed so they’d have to look at me.

“I’m going in. I’ll get close to Riccardo’s people, the charities, the parties, anyone who traffics girls or launders money. I’ll learn names and routes. I’ll feed it back to you. It’s the only way to take him down without starting a war we can’t win.”

Matteo blinked slowly. “You?” he said, like he was checking I hadn’t lost my mind. His hand gave mine a weak squeeze. “You don’t belong in that world.”

“No,” I said. “But I know how they look at me. They think I’m easy to buy, easy to distract. That’s the hole I’ll crawl through.” I kept my voice flat. There was no need for drama. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you my plan.”

Marco watched me from the doorway, his expression unreadable. Lorenzo’s jaw worked, then he said, blunt as ever, “You understand what that means? If they find out?”

“They’ll kill me.” I didn’t flinch.

Marco watched me in the doorway, quiet. Finally, he said, “She won’t go in untrained. Matteo, trust us, she was on the range all day yesterday. Today she’s starting close-quarters: hand-to-hand, knife work, the stuff that matters when a gun isn’t an option. We’re running it one-on-one. She won’t be sent in half-prepared.”

I leaned forward and kissed Matteo’s forehead, quick. “I’ll come back, I swear by it.”