LOGINDear Lovely Readers… This part ends where words fail. Some moments in this story are meant to hurt softly. Nina’s journey is not paused, it’s suspended. And Enzo is standing in the space between guilt, loyalty, and hope, learning that power means nothing when the people you love are fragile. What you’ve just experienced is not a conclusion. It’s a breath held too long. A silence that hasn’t decided what it wants to become yet. And in this world… silence is never safe. It always turns into something. I know Part Two has felt different. More layered. More emotionally charged in a way that doesn’t always give you easy answers or clean resolutions. That’s intentional. Nina is in that space now where she is no longer just surviving what’s happening around her… she’s beginning to exist within it differently. And Enzo, no matter how much control he thinks he holds… he is also learning that control has limits. And that’s where things start to get dangerous. Not because of outside
I didn’t belong at the front. Not because she didn’t cherish me, but because I had failed her. I’d been too caught up in a mess that never seemed to end. Bloodlines. Vendettas. Power plays that demanded attention and took it without asking. I hadn’t noticed when Bruno needed to leave Sicily. I hadn’t stopped to ask why. I hadn’t let him slow down long enough to say it out loud. This was Bruno’s mother. He’d left early to see her because she was sick, and I’d waved him off like it was just another obligation. Just another errand. I told myself there would be time later. There wasn’t. She had been dear to me… quietly, consistently. From the early days, when Bruno’s father drove for my family and later retired, she’d always asked the same thing whenever she saw me. Young sir, is he eating well? Is he working too hard? Or not, is he safe? Just that. I kept my hands in my coat pockets, rain soaking into the fabric, eyes fixed on the ground just ahead of the grave. It
The facility gates were already locked down when I arrived. Security was tight… too tight for a place meant to heal, not cage. That’s when I saw them. Luca was standing a few feet from the gate, hands in his pockets, jaw tight. A lady was beside him, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the building like she could will Nina awake through concrete walls. “They were not allowed in,” one of the guards said quietly behind me. “I know,” I replied. Luca noticed me first. His body stiffened instantly. Not with fear or anger. Readiness. Like he’d been waiting for this moment without knowing it. I had never seen her before. That was the part that hit me hardest. She didn’t look like Santoro. No sharp arrogance. No calculated stare. She looked… young. Worn. Like someone who’d been holding herself together with willpower alone. “This is Gia,” Luca said, briefly. So this was her. This was the girl Nina had risked everything for. Gia met my eyes. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t
ENZO’S POV It had been three days. Three days of seeing this machines breathing for her, staring at a chest that rose because something else told it to. Three days of learning how loud silence could be. “Just say it already, Bruno.” He stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back. He hadn’t slept either. I could tell. Bruno never hid exhaustion well… he just carried it like duty. “Sir,” he said carefully, “I need to go back to Milan. Something important. It’s… urgent.” I didn’t look at him. My eyes were still on the door to Nina’s room, like it might open if I watched hard enough. “Just go,” I said. “Brief Marco and the men before you leave.” Relief flickered across his face, quick and gone. “Thank you, sir.” He hesitated. “Sir…” I exhaled slowly. “What again, Bruno.” “Nonno has asked for you,” he said. “He demands to see you. Now.” “He can wait.” There was a pause. Then Bruno spoke again, softer this time. “Sir… I think it’s best you go. Then take so
LUCA's POV The house was too quiet when I walked in. Gia was already there. She stood up the second she saw me, phone still in her hand, worry written all over her face like she’d been holding it for hours. “I’ve been trying to reach you,” she said quickly. “Luca… what happened?” I dropped my keys on the table, the sound too loud in the silence. My chest felt tight, like my lungs had forgotten how to work properly. “I’m sorry,” I said. My voice cracked immediately. “Gia, I’m so sorry. I—” The words tangled in my mouth and refused to come out right. I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing once before stopping in front of her. “I don’t even know how to say this.” Her hands came up to my face, warm, groundi
I felt my chest heavier than before. “Push harder and don't stop until there is a sign,” I said. “Move” I added No one did. So I did. I placed my hand over the center of her chest, right where her heart should be beating. “I’m not done with you,” I whispered fiercely. “You don’t get to leave me. Not like this.” I broke her. And I will burn the world if she dies. I drove my fist down. Once and Hard. The sound was hollow. Like something cracking inside my own body. Someone gasped. For a second, then— A blip. Then Another. The monitor stuttered. “A pulse,” someone said, stunned. “We’ve got a pulse!” The room exploded into motion again. I drooped forward, forehead pressing to hers, and a broken laugh came out of my chest as tears finally spilled down my face. “There you are,” I whispered. “There you are… don’t ever do that to me again.” Hands gently but firmly pulled me back. “She’s back,” the doctor said urgently. “Move him out. Now.” They dragged m
Five minutes later… Giulia appeared beside me, her face pale, one hand on her stomach. “I’m heading back to the guest house. My stomach’s upset.” I looked at her more closely. She did look sick, worse than earlier. “You need the doctor?” “No, I just need to lie down. Too much food, probably
GIULIA’s POV The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. I stared at it from the bed in the guest house, watching Dimitri’s name flash across the screen for the third time this morning. My finger hovered over the answer button, then moved to decline. Again. I couldn’t talk to him. Not yet. The guest ho
NINA’s POV I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the red dress one final time. It fit perfectly, hugging every curve, the color rich and bold against my skin. My makeup was light, natural, except for the red lipstick that matched the dress exactly. My hair was pulled up in an elega
The mention of my mother, of what Santoro had done, made rage burn in my chest. But underneath it was something else now, something complicated by three months of having Nina in my life, in my bed, in my heart. “I’ll handle it,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “How?” “I have sources. Connection







