Chapter 35

• The night was still thick with the taste of gunpowder and adrenaline when Elio and Luca stumbled back into the relative safety of the penthouse. Neither spoke for a long moment. Their hands trembled not from fear, but from the rawness of what they’d just survived.
• Luca’s fingers still brushed the spot where the cold barrel of Rafaele’s gun had pressed against his temple. Elio, his jaw tight, eyes burning with fury, paced the room like a caged animal.
• “Elio,” Luca rasped. His voice cracked, the weight of what had almost happened shoving the words from his throat. “Talk to me.”