"Julian?" he asked.
The guard shook his head immediately. "No. He doesn’t know. Not yet."
Luca took another step forward, swaying slightly as his body threatened to give out.
"You need to sit down, Luciano," he said cautiously. "You’re losing too much blood."
"Is Julian at the wharf?"
"He is inside," the man said. "Everyone is loyal to the Don, Luca. Julian said you were the traitor, so... we just went along with his orders."
"Great," he muttered. "That’s just fucking great." His hand pressed instinctively against his side, coming away slick with blood. "I need to get out of here."
"Don said keep you safe and alive. That’s what I have to do."
"Fuck!" Luca snapped. "I don’t have time for this. Give me your gun."
The man started to move. A shot rang out. His body jerked violently before collapsing forward, landing at Luca’s feet. Blood spread quickly beneath him, dark against the pale gravel.
Luca lifted his gaze to find Julian, his gun still raised.
"That’s what happens to traitors, Luca," Julian said. "I should have known you would have someone on the inside."
Luca straightened slightly, ignoring the way his body screamed in protest. "Julian...This is madness."
"Is it?" Julian tilted his head, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "You always seem to be able to get yourself out of tricky situations. I don’t understand it."
"If you don’t," he said hoarsely, "then you are not supposed to sit on father’s chair."
Julian’s expression hardened, the amusement draining from his face. "I have played this game for long enough...I’m not waiting anymore." He raised the gun.
Luca closed his eyes. And in the darkness, there was only her. Veronica. Her laugh. The fire in her stubbornness. The way she had crawled into his life and made it worth living. "I’m sorry," he whispered.
Sorry for bringing you into this. Sorry for not being there. Sorry for leaving. The shot rang through the air.
*****
The knock on the door came hard and fast, urgent enough to make Valentina’s heart jump into her throat.
The moment she opened the door— Everything fell apart. Marco stood there, Veronica in his arms, limp and pale, her head resting against his shoulder. Nonnina stood just behind him, her face drawn tight with worry.
"Val..." Marco started.
Valentina’s breath caught. "What happened?!" she gasped, her eyes darting wildly over Veronica’s body. "Vee? Vee!" She stepped back, making room as Marco pushed past her and into the house. Panic surged through her veins as she followed them, her hands trembling.
"Put her here—put her here," Val said quickly, rushing ahead to clear space on the couch.
Marco laid Veronica down carefully. Val dropped to her knees beside her sister, her hands framing Veronica’s face. "Vee... come on, wake up..." she whispered.
"What... what happened to her?!" Val yelled.


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