登入A broken sound catches in my throat."I want to see his face," I demand, my voice raw. "Wake him. I want to hear him."Julian’s face appears on the screen as he switches the camera toward himself. He looks almost amused by the urgency in me. Up close, he has changed. Sharper somehow. Leaner. The boyish ease I once knew is gone, replaced by something harder and more deliberate. I never got a proper look at him at the cathedral. Now I wish I still had not."Patience," he says. "First, you look at me.""Julian, please let me—""I said look at me, Bianca."There is something unsettlingly soft in his expression, as if this is a reunion instead of a hostage exchange. I nod and force myself to meet his eyes."I miss you," he says quietly. "More than I expected. More than I should have." I do not speak. I only watch him. He grins, then begins undoing the top buttons of his shirt without looking away from the camera. One. Then another. I frown, but still say nothing."Look."He parts the fabri
Only when the line connects on the first ring does the full reality of what I have done hit me with full force.I am calling Julian. From inside the Falcone estate. If anyone finds out, if Francesca finds out, this is a death sentence.My heart lurches so hard it hurts.Then his voice comes through, immediate and almost pleased, as if he has been sitting with the phone in his hand waiting for this exact moment."Bianca."The sound of my name in his mouth makes my skin crawl. For half a second I cannot speak. Every instinct screams that I should end the call, go straight to Marco, do anything except remain on this line.But the question is already burning at the back of my throat, sharper than fear."I want to speak to him," I say, my voice shaking but forced into something harder. "My father. Now. A live video. I want to see his face."There is a brief pause on the other end. Then Julian laughs softly, low and satisfied, as if I have stepped exactly where he wanted me."There she is,"
Julian’s voice fills the room again, smoother now, closer, and intimate in a way that feels deliberately invasive, as if he knew exactly how the sound of him would land in an empty room."Bianca. I know you won’t believe me. You’ve already decided what I am. But I miss you."My fingers lock around the phone so hard the edges dig into my skin. The nerve of this bastard."How did everything turn into this?" he continues, soft, almost wounded. "One mistake. One night. And suddenly you were gone, sleeping under another man’s roof. Come back, and we can undo it. All of it. I was never going to kill you. Do you understand that? I only needed you frightened enough to listen. It was Elena. That bitch poisoned everything. She pushed herself into my bed, into my head, into decisions that were never supposed to be..." he trails off, and a sick heat crawls up my throat."Bianca, my love."The endearment lands like a hand on the back of my neck. "All I wanted was to make your father pay for the th
I look at Alessia’s face for a long second.Whatever she came to say is sitting heavily on her. It is in the tight line of her mouth, in the way her fingers are still curled around the door handle, in the hesitation that keeps her from stepping fully inside.I move first."Come in," I say more gently this time, and walk toward the sofa. I sit and rest my hand on the cushion beside me. "Sit."Alessia enters and closes the door behind her. The soft click of the lock turns the quiet of the room sharper. She crosses the floor with careful steps and sits beside me, close enough that I can see the tension still working through her shoulders.For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then Alessia’s hands tighten in her lap, as she looks at me."When Julian took me," she begins, voice low, "at the cathedral… he didn’t only use me to get to Marco."My body goes still."He put something on me," she continues. "A phone. He told me to give it to you. That it was yours. That you needed to hear what was
Francesca rises once more, and this time no one stops her. Her footsteps are measured as she leaves the dining room. The door closes behind her with a quiet finality that somehow feels louder than the earlier slam of her hand against the table.Only then does the air seem to shift.Alessia looks between Marco and me, her expression caught somewhere between worry and helplessness."I’m sorry," she says softly. "She has been… difficult since the cathedral.""You don’t need to apologize for her," Marco answers.Alessia nods, though she does not look convinced. After a moment she excuses herself as well, murmuring something about giving us space, and slips out of the room.The silence she leaves behind is heavier than the one before.Marco turns toward me at last. Some of the fury has drained from his face."Are you all right?" he asks.The question is almost absurd after everything that has just been thrown across the table. Still, I nod."Yes."He studies me for a moment longer, as if m
Alessia shifts in her chair."Mother—""You were taken," Francesca continues, cutting across her cleanly. "Held at gunpoint. Forced to put a bullet in your own brother." Her voice remains controlled, but the edge beneath it sharpens. "You have never been trained to handle a weapon properly. If your aim had been even slightly worse, Marco would be dead."The words land heavily between us.Alessia’s face pales. Her fingers tighten around her fork, though she no longer seems aware of it."I know," she says quietly."Do you?" Francesca turns her attention fully toward me now. "Because none of it would have happened if certain people had not brought their chaos into this family."Marco’s head lifts."Mother."The warning is clear. Francesca does not heed it."Her former fiancé stormed a sacred place with armed men," she continues. "Opened fire on our guests. Used my daughter as a shield. Forced her to shoot my son." Her eyes hold mine without blinking. "And that was only the beginning."My







