Page 91 of Caterina
Papà’s expression does not soften, but something in his eyes does.
“Yes,” he says.
That should make me feel better.
It doesn’t.
It makes me angrier. More frightened. More aware.
Because if Adrian had been slower by one second, if Roberto had not opened that stairwell door when he did, if the shot had gone a few inches differently—
No.
I cut that thought off before it can take root.
Teresa finally turns away from the foyer and looks at me fully.
“What happened?” she asks.
Her voice is steady, but I know her too well now not to hear the strain under it.
I wet my lips and realize my mouth is dry again.
“It was the fight,” I say. “At first, I thought it was just… a fight. Two men at a blackjack table.”
Papà doesn’t move. Neither does anyone else.
I keep going because if I stop, I may not start again.
“One of them shoved the other. The other swung back. Security should’ve handled it.”
My voice catches on that, and I hate it.
“I started toward it. Adrian yelled. Then he was there and dragging me across the floor.”
I don’t say I thought he might be crazy.
I don’t think I can survive admitting that in front of all of them.
“Then they followed us,” I say instead. “Into the service hall. Three of them. All armed.”
Olivia’s face has gone white all over again.
Papà’s hand tightens once against the mantel.
“They shot at us in the hall. Adrian got me to the stairs. Then they followed us there, too.”
No one interrupts.
No one says anything useless like thank God you’re safe, because in this family, that would not even begin to cover it.
“What happened to them?” Bianca asks. “The men.”
I look at her. It’s the first time I really notice everybody else in the room. I know everyone is here, but I've been in my own world.
"Dead.” I don’t go into any more detail. "But not before shooting Adrian, apparently.”
Bianca’s hand flies to her mouth.
