CHAPTER SIXTY ONE

ANYA

I stepped into the room with shaky feet, the atmosphere heavy with tension. The doctor was there, tending to Vincenzo. Nico, Carlo, and Blanca were standing around, partially blocking my view. My heart raced, fearing what I was about to see.

As they noticed me, Matteo's voice cut through the air, drawing their attention. They parted slightly, creating a path for me to see. And then I saw him, lying there, his form obscured by bandages and blood.

A gasp caught in my throat, and I crumbled to my knees. It couldn't be true. This couldn't be Vincenzo. Not the indomitable force of strength and charisma I knew. Not him, lying so still, surrounded by the sterile white of a hospital room.

The tears I'd been holding back burst forth. I reached out, my fingers trembling, as if touching him could prove to me that this was just a nightmare. That this wasn't really happening.

“Vincenzo,” I choked out, my voice quivering. &ldquo