Necessary attitudes

Necessary attitudes

My eyes fill with tears as Luca holds my hands in his.

"I promise I'll finish," Matteo says, removing the gauze from my nose.

It burns and hurts; it feels like I'm reopening the wound.

"I'm done!" Matteo shouts, putting a cloth to stop the bleeding.

I wipe my eyes, still recovering.

"Sometimes I remember why I always hated doctors," I say, getting off the stretcher.

Luca laughs, and Matteo gives me a hurt look.

I roll my eyes and leave the infirmary.

I enter the makeshift kitchen of the pool house five minutes later.

Two weeks have passed since the invasion; the reconstruction of the destroyed areas is still underway.

From where I am, I can see the workers; some are even cute.

"Let Lorenzo see you looking at them like that," Nonna says, and I'm startled.

“Not even the boys can dream of this,” I say, laughing.

“How are you feeling, little one?” she asks me calmly.

Everyone is tiptoeing around me, waiting for me to collapse.

And I can tell I’m doing the same to them.

When our personal space is invaded, we become much more alert, expecting it to happen again.

The mansion is a sensitive spot for everyone. It should be our fortress.

“I’m fine,” I say with a smile. “And you? I haven’t seen you rest or go out since everything happened.”

She waves her hand as if it weren’t important.

“I’m great, I can distract myself by coordinating the construction of this house,” she says with a smile.

“Will everything ever go back to normal?” I ask thoughtfully. “I miss school and my friends.”

“I promise everything will be as it was before soon,” she assures me. I glance at the kitchen clock and remember I haven't taken the medicine Matteo prescribed.

The lab is still analyzing the syringe's contents, but Matteo told me to take some pills as a precaution.

"I'll be right back," I tell Grandma before running out.

I enter the hallway and reach the stairs. I'm halfway up when I see Lorenzo come in with the twins and Leonardo.

Giorgio's shirt is stained with blood, while Leonardo has blood on his hands and shirt.

There's so much blood!

I examine them, looking for injuries, but I don't find any.

"Damn it," says Giovanni, noticing I'm standing on the stairs.

He takes a step forward and I trip on the step behind me, falling backward down the stairs.

"Are you alright?" I ask when he realizes I want to keep my distance.

"Yes, princess, we're fine," Giorgio replies calmly.

I shake my head as if trying to process the information. My problem with blood is better than before, but I still freeze when I see a lot of blood.

I stand up, holding onto the stair railing, and go up to my room, completely forgetting what I had gone to get.

I don't want to get involved in the boys' affairs, but I'm curious to know what they're doing.

After the break-in, they've become more somber; it seems like everything that happened broke something inside them.

I'm afraid of that.

I've seen the look they carry in other people, and none of them were good.

I take a deep breath and lock the door before grabbing my cell phone.

I call Dominic; he answers on the third ring.

"Hello, Elena," his tone is dry, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

"Um, hello," I reply hesitantly. "Is everything alright?"

I hear movement on the line before he answers.

"Ask your brothers," he says coldly.

I'm confused; something is very wrong.

"Dominic, what happened?" I ask, clearly worried.

"Do you know those people you call family?" he mutters from the other end of the line. "They're torturing innocents for information."

"No, they're not like that," I reply in denial.

But how long have I known them? And how far are they willing to go to protect themselves?

"Elena, you're smart," Dominic says in a calmer tone. "Make them stop this, or they'll become like the monsters you fear so much."

I have no answers for this; I don't know what to say.

"Have you withdrawn your support from the mafia?" the question escapes before I can stop it.

I hear him sigh before answering.

“We don’t support people who hurt innocents,” he says coldly. “Then we have nothing more to discuss,” I reply and hang up before he can respond.

My phone trembles in my hand as I try to process what Dominic told me.

My mind tries to connect the dots, linking the change in the boys to the conversations I overhear around the house.

But nothing works.

If I ask them, will they tell me the truth?

But what if Dominic is right? What will I do?

I can’t live with people who hurt others for no reason, or simply because they can.

Nothing in this search for the Sinclairs justifies hurting innocents.

I leave my room quickly and go straight to Lorenzo’s office, without knocking before entering.

I see some men sitting there and they look at me with a raised eyebrow, wanting to know why I came in like that.

“Elena,” Dante warns, but I ignore him.

“Everyone out, the meeting is over,” I say in the same authoritative tone Lorenzo always uses.

I know that if Dominic is wrong, I’ll be in trouble, but I need to get this off my conscience.

They aren’t monsters.

The men look at Lorenzo, who simply nods, indicating they should leave.

I patiently wait for everyone to leave the room and sit down facing my older brother.

“I’m only going to ask once, and for God’s sake, be honest with me,” I say coldly.

Lorenzo stares at me, confused.

“Are you torturing innocent people to get information about the Sinclairs?” I ask calmly, though my fingers tremble slightly.

Nicco confirms that yes, lowering his head, guilty.

I look at them and stand up, wanting distance.

“You’re not like this,” I whisper more to myself than to them.

“Elena, it was necessary,” says Vicente in a controlled tone.

I shake my head, not recognizing the people in front of me. "No, Vicente," I say, my voice breaking, "That makes you just like them."