|| Lorenzo ||
The drive back to the mansion was quiet, the kind of silence that pressed heavily against my chest, like a storm cloud waiting to burst. Becky sat in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window, her breathing shallow but steady. The bullet had only grazed her arm, but the fever that followed made her unusually subdued. She was never one to show weakness, but the way her fingers trembled as she adjusted the sling around her arm betrayed her. I kept my eyes on the road, my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary, my knuckles white under the strain. My mind was a whirlwind—Becky’s injury, the sniper, Marco’s next move, and… Cora. I hadn’t seen her since the chaos at the auction hall. I hadn’t even thought to check on her. The guilt was a dull ache i
