LOGINOne month later.“You seem happy.” Antonio’s words were slurred, his tongue still heavy.“Should I be angry?” Leo asked, stopping the humming as he looked up at Antonio.Antonio raised a shoulder. “Aren’t you… angry with me? Don’t you want to say something to me?”Leo dropped the apple he was pairing into the plate and huffed out a breath. “I have so much to say to you, Antonio. But I’ll say them when your speech steadies so that you can respond properly.”Antonio swallowed hard. It had been over a month since Antonio opened his eyes. His physical recovery was a grueling, painful crawl, but he was getting there.Little by little.Slowly.With the help of Leo—who practically taught him how to walk again, how to speak again.His speech was still slightly gravelly, his voice hoarse from the trauma of the ventilator.But it was okay. Leo was satisfied, as long as he could hear Antonio’s voice. As long as Antonio could recognize him.The door clicked open.Leo’s shoulders instantly went r
The flight to New York had felt long.It was like a bridge between the violence of Italy and the life Julian was desperately clawing his way back to. By the time his car pulled through the gates of Lena’s estate, the early morning sun was already rising.Julian stepped out of the car, his joints popping from the hours of travel. He opened the back door and picked up the two bundles.One was a small, vibrant bouquet of yellow daisies. Junior’s favorite color, as he had learned from Lena.The second was a big, elegant arrangement of white roses and eucalyptus. That one was for Lena.The moment he stepped inside, he found Lena sitting on the rug in the living room, her back resting against the base of the couch. Junior was propped up in her lap, surrounded by a fortress of soft pillows, his small hands clumsily trying to stack a set of plastic building blocks.He looked infinitely better than he had the last time Julian was home. The color had returned to his cheeks, and the hollow ex
“Julian, step outside with me for a second,” Leo spoke up, his voice barely louder than a whisper.“Sure. Give me a minute,” Julian said, not raising his head as he typed something on his phone.The sun was already beginning to set.Antonio had remained the same since he woke, motionless and unblinking. Until he fell asleep again.Leo stepped outside the room and stood by the glass window, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. He watched the chest of his boyfriend rise and fall under the blanket, then eyes flicked to Julian.He tipped his head to the side as if to tell Julian that he didn’t have the patience to keep waiting. Julian flipped the phone in his palm, tucked it into his pocket, and stood up with a weary sigh. He stepped outside into the hallway, the door clicking shut to preserve the silence of Antonio’s room.Leo leaned his lower back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes, dark and bloodshot from ten days of sleepless nights, locked
The days blurred into one another until time itself lost all meaning.The first day passed in a suffocating silence. Leo simply sat in the plastic bedside chair, motionless, his mind unable to come to terms with the terrifying reality that he could lose the love of his life at any second. For the first time in his existence, he found himself praying to a God he had never believed in, bargaining with every ounce of his heart.The second day came and went with no change. The doctors mentioned that Antonio was strong; if he could make it past those initial forty-eight hours without his fever spiking or an unexpected emergency tearing his vitals apart, then it meant his body truly wanted to live.Another day drifted by.And another.And another.Until today. It was the tenth day.Leo had long since grown accustomed to the static hum of the machines, sitting by Antonio’s side for hours on end, holding his cold hand until his own fingers felt numb and disconnected from his body.Today cou
The doors of the Black estate felt heavier than usual when Julian pushed through them.The grand living room was thick with a suffocating silence. His father sat in his leather armchair, staring blankly into the unlit fireplace, while his sisters lounged on the couches, their faces drawn.Julian stepped fully into the room, his boots clicking sharply against the marble floor. The smell of dried blood still clung to his clothes.“What’s with the grim expressions? He’s not dead yet,” Julian said, his voice ringing low and raspy, shattering the silence.His father, Luoni, perked up instantly, his shoulders stiffening as he looked up. “Has there been any progress?”“The surgery was successful,” Julian said flatly, stopping a few feet away from his father.“I already know that,” Luoni snapped, a nervous edge clipping his words. “I’m asking if he has woken up yet.”Julian let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “If it were you, Papa, would you have woken up barely two hours after a bullet was pul
The door of the intensive care unit clicked shut behind Julian, cutting off the rhythmic, mechanical hiss of the ventilator keeping his brother alive. He walked down the hallway like a ghost, his legs heavy, his eyes fixed on nothing so he wouldn't have to look at the empathetic expressions of the nursing staff.He didn’t stop until he reached the parking garage. Julian unlocked his car, slipped into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door shut, cutting off the rest of the world.For a long moment, he just gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white against because of how hard he was holding on. The silence in the car was suffocating. His hands were still stained with Antonio’s blood—both literally and metaphorically.Slowly, his fingers trembling, Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He unlocked the screen and hit the speed dial for Lena.She picked up on the very first ring.“Julian!” Lena’s voice burst through the speaker, frantic and breathless. “
Years ago, before the marriage, before the arrangement, before she tucked herself into Julian’s quiet house and learned to want less, Lena used to party.It was how she processed things: a loud room, a dark dance floor, a glass in her hand. It wasn’t elegant and she knew it. But it worked. Tonight
“Hello, this is the assistant of Pedro King. I saw that you had put up an article stating that Mr. Julian Black was out with his wife. As his associates, we are unaware of any such information. Might I know if you have any other details about the woman in question?”“Pedro King?” The reporter asked
Lena heard the front door open just as she was setting her phone down.She didn’t move from where she sat curled in the corner of the living room sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, the glow of the television casting pale light across the room. She had been waiting for two hours, maybe even longer.
Tick.Tick.Tick.The clock continued to tick. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. And yet Lena’s husband was not home.Three years.That was how long Lena had been married.Three years of convenience. Three years of an arrangement that had never pretended to be more than what it wa







