ログインLia’s POVWhen we finally pulled up to the hospital, the building looked so big and cold, with bright lights shining over the front entrance even though the sun was just starting to come up. Dante slammed the car into park and we both jumped out fast. The glass doors slid open with a soft whoosh as we ran inside, and right away the smell hit me hard. It was that strong hospital smell—antiseptic and something sharp and clean, like they had just finished mopping everything with strong cleaner. It made my nose sting and my eyes water even more than they already were. People in blue scrubs were walking fast in every direction, pushing carts with medicine bottles and bandages. Somewhere down one of the long hallways I could hear a machine beeping over and over, steady and scary.Marco was waiting for us right at the entrance, just like he promised. His shirt was stained with blood. Dark red patches spread across the front and down one sleeve, and I knew without anyone telling me that it ha
Lia’s POVThe loud shrill of Dante’s phone ringing on the bedside table pulled me out of a deep sleep. I opened my eyes slowly, still heavy with tiredness from everything that happened last night. The room was dim, the curtains still drawn, and the sheets felt warm and soft against my bare skin. Dante was right next to me, his body warm and solid. But when I turned my head a little, I noticed the space on my other side was empty. Victor wasn’t there. His side of the bed was cold, the pillow still indented from where his head had been. A small frown formed on my face as I wondered where he had gone so early.Dante stirred beside me and reached for his phone. His voice was still rough from sleep when he answered. “Hello?” he said, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.I watched his face change in the soft morning light. At first he looked confused, like he was trying to understand what the person on the other end was saying. Then his whole expression shifted. His eyes widened, and the co
Victor's POVBlood was spreading fast across my chest, soaking through the fabric of my shirt and jacket. I could feel it pooling beneath me, warm and wet. I could taste it in the back of my throat, metallic and thick. My breathing was already getting harder, each inhale wet and painful, like I was drowning from the inside. The room was starting to tilt around me, the edges of my vision going dark and fuzzy.Rob didn’t move to help me.He just stood there, the gun still loose in his hand, staring down at me with that same cold, empty hate in his eyes. There was no shock on his face. No regret. Nothing. He looked at me like I was already gone. Like I had never mattered to him at all. Then he bent down, grabbed the black duffel bag from the floor, and ran out of the study without a single word. His footsteps echoed down the hallway and faded away. The door to the study stayed half open behind him, letting in a thin slice of light from the corri
Victor's POV“You’re disappointed in me?” he said, his voice getting louder, echoing off the walls of the study. “Of course you are. You’ve always been disappointed in me. I could never do anything right in your eyes. I was never good enough. Never like Dante. Ever since we were kids, it was always Dante this and Dante that. The golden son. The perfect one. I was just the fuck-up you had to keep bailing out of trouble. You think I didn’t notice? You think I didn’t feel it every single time you looked at me like I was some kind of disappointment? Like I was nothing compared to him?”I stared at him, the anger mixing with something heavier in my chest. Sadness. Exhaustion. The weight of years of trying and failing to reach him. My voice came out quieter now, but still firm.“I bailed you out of trouble more times than I can count,” I said. “I gave you chances. I gave you money when you
Victor's POVI walked through the ground floor rooms methodically and without hurry. The living room with its deep leather couches and the shelves of books that had been accumulating since before the boys were born—first editions alongside paperbacks, arranged by subject rather than by aesthetic, the collection of a man who actually read rather than one who used books as decoration. The formal dining room with its long table that could seat twenty and usually seated three at most, the chairs perfectly aligned. The morning room that looked out over the gardens through three tall windows, the early gray light just beginning to show through the glass.Empty. All of it empty and undisturbed.I had known before I walked through them that they would be.I walked back through the house and down the long corridor, my shoes now on the thick Persian runner that ran its length, muffling my footsteps to near silence. The family photographs on the walls moved past me as I walked—my parents in form
Victor's POVCarefully. In the slow, deliberate increments of someone with a great deal of practice at not disturbing people sleeping near him.I eased my arm out from under Lia's shoulder millimeter by millimeter, keeping my eyes on her face the entire time. She stirred when I was about halfway through the process—a soft sound escaping her lips, somewhere between a sigh and something more vocal, and her brow furrowed faintly.I went completely still. Held everything.Waited.Her face smoothed. Her breathing continued its deep, even rhythm.I finished extracting my arm and sat up slowly at the edge of the bed, my feet finding the cool floor. I sat there for a moment in the dark, letting my eyes adjust completely, then stood.The room was cool against my skin. I was still bare from the night before.I moved silently to the chair where I'd left my clothes—dark pants, a dark button-down shirt that I'd chosen the previous evening with characteristic care. I dressed in the dim room without
Lia’s POVThe words hit me like a physical blow. Like he'd reached across the space between us and punched me in the stomach.Better than I ever did.I thought about all the times I'd tried to please him. All the times I'd gotten on my knees for him, wanting to make him feel good, wanting him to wa
Lia’s POVA real smile, not the annoyed half-smile he usually gave me. His eyes lit up as he looked at her, traveling down her body slowly, taking his time."I don't need anything for now," he said, and his voice was different. Warmer. Friendlier. Flirty, even."Okay, sir," she purred, holding his
Lia’s POVHis words hit me hard. Like cold water thrown in my face. Like being slapped.I froze. My whole body went stiff. Those words kept repeating in my head. Like a little slut. Like a little slut. Like a little slut.The warm feelings I'd had—the wanting, the desire—all disappeared in a second
Lia's POVThe dream always started the same way.A man came into my bedroom. The door opened slowly with a creak. I heard his footsteps on the wooden floor. Heavy steps that made the floor groan. I never saw his face—it was always hidden in shadow, like the darkness covered him on purpose. But I co







