Red
Diamond’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Wh–what do you mean you can save him?” Gabriele asked, his voice low and suspicious, like he wasn’t sure if she was serious or delirious.
Diamond drew in a sharp breath, holding her ground under everyone’s stares. “My blood type,” she said. “It’s O-negative.”
Everyone went still for a moment.
Enzo was the first to speak, blinking in disbelief. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” Diamond said without hesitation. “I’ve known since high school. O-negative. That means I’m—”
“A universal donor,” Enzo finished for her, the first flicker of hope crossing his face all night. “Yeah. That’s right.”
Relief rippled through the group like a breaking wave.
Marco’s head dropped back against the wall as he let out a sharp, ragged laugh. “Holy shit. This is amazing! Okay, we can work with this.”
No one wasted time. Alessandro practically walked over and grabbed the doctor by the collar, his tone commanding. “She’s O-negative. Get whatever you need. Now.”
The doctor’s face broke into a relieved smile. “Perfect. Come with me,” he said to Diamond, beckoning urgently. “We don’t have a second to lose.”
Diamond nodded, exhaling shakily before following him down the hallway.
As they walked, she muttered a silent prayer under her breath, every word colliding with the pounding in her chest.
“Please. Please don’t let this be for nothing. Please don’t take him from me.”
—
The room was cold and sterile, the smell of disinfectant sharp enough to sting.
“Have a seat,” a nurse instructed.
Diamond lowered herself onto the padded chair, her heart furiously beating against her chest. The nurse snapped on gloves, disinfected her arm, and tied a tight band around her bicep.
“You’ve donated before?” she asked quickly.
“No. I don't think so,” she whispered, though her voice was distant.
“That’s okay. Just stay still. This will be fast.”
She flinched at the needle’s prick but didn’t look away, watching dark red fill the tubing, pooling into the bag.
Every drop felt like it was carrying a piece of her to him.
“Take it,” she thought to herself. “Take everything you need. Just make sure he lives.”
She whispered his name like a mantra. “Adriano… Adriano…”
The nurse glanced up. “You okay?”
Diamond forced a nod. “Yeah. Keep going.”
Minutes stretched like hours, but eventually, the bag was full.
The nurse slid the needle out and wrapped her arm with firm gauze. “You did good,” she said, her voice softer now. “Keep this pressed for a few minutes. You might feel lightheaded so don’t stand too fast. And drink plenty of fluids.”
Diamond barely heard her. All she could think about was the blood rushing through tubes into the room where Adriano lay fighting for his life.
When she returned to the waiting room, they all looked up.
Gabriele was the first to stand. “Hey.” His voice was rough, softer than she’d ever heard it. “Thank you. Really. I have no idea what we would’ve done without you.”
“There’s no need to thank me,” Diamond managed a faint smile. “You’re crazy if you think I wouldn’t do this. Giving a little blood is nothing. I’d… I’d do anything to save him.”
They both took a seat, Gabriele shifting closer. “Still. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Before she could answer, he reached up, gently brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek, warm and steady, anchoring her in the whirlwind of emotions she was caught up in.
Her breath hitched. Their eyes locked, holding a moment that felt too intimate for words.
Until Alessandro walked over.
Silent and seething with jealousy, he dropped into the seat between them without so much as a glance, his shoulder brushing against Diamond’s as he turned his cold, razor-edged glare on Gabriele.
Gabriele rolled his eyes and leaned back, muttering under his breath, “Here we go.”
Alessandro ignored him, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
—
Morning blurred into afternoon. The fluorescent lights hummed, the smell of stale coffee and antiseptic filling the quiet.
They all slumped into uneasy sleep until a loud ringtone split the silence, startling everyone awake.
Marco, sprawled awkwardly across two chairs, groaned. “The fuck was that?”
“Your face,” Enzo deadpanned.
Marco glanced down—and froze. His head had been resting squarely on Enzo’s crotch. Worse, a dark, wet patch stained Enzo’s pants.
“Oh no…” Marco muttered, lifting his head. “Did I—”
Enzo’s face twisted in disgust. “You drooled on me through my pants. Christ, Marco.”
Marco threw up his hands defensively. “Hey, it’s not my fault your thighs are like a damn foam pillow!”
Luca snorted. Even Serena cracked a smirk.
But the laughter died fast when Alessandro fished his phone out of his pocket, staring at the screen.
Gabriele frowned. “Who is it?”
Alessandro turned the phone toward them to see the caller ID.
Papà.
The room went dead quiet.
—
On the other side of Los Angeles, Valentino Moretti stared into the flames of his hearth.
His grand living room, usually pristine, reeked of spilled wine and rage. Shattered glass glittered across the marble floor.
Matteo and Vivianna entered quietly, taking their seats on the velvet sofa.
Valentino didn’t turn. “The necklace,” he said flatly. “Have you retrieved it?”
“No,” Vivianna answered smoothly. “Our men have scoured the city. No sign of them.”
The wine glass in Valentino’s hand exploded against the wall. He was on his feet in an instant, flipping tables, ripping portraits from the walls, destroying everything within reach.
“Dio maledetto!” he roared. (God damn it!)
Matteo jumped up. “Papà, si calmi, per favore!” (Dad, please calm down)
But Valentino didn't hear him. His senses were flooded with rage as he tore through the living room like a hurricane.
His hand clutched a vase, ready to smash it until another hand caught his wrist.
“Matteo, lasciami andare,” he growled without looking. (Matteo, let me go)
But the voice that came afterwards wasn’t Matteo’s.
“Just stop.”
Valentino turned.
Charles.
The injured man gently took the vase, placing it back on its pedestal. “Breaking your own prized possessions won’t solve anything.”
Valentino’s chest heaved. He muttered Charles’ name, his gaze flicking to the bandage wrapped across his torso. “Are you okay?”
Charles chuckled darkly. “I’m completely fine. I’ve had worse.”
They both sat.
Silence stretched until Valentino finally spoke, his voice low and venomous. “Those serpents stole what rightfully belongs to me. I will not rest until I crush Raffaele Greco and those three little rats he calls sons beneath my heel.”
Vivianna leaned forward, smiling faintly. “And you will. But we have a bigger problem.”
Valentino turned, his single eye narrowing. “What?”
“The Veil,” Matteo said. “They’re afraid. The auction was supposed to be impenetrable and after the raid by Il Serpente Dorato… they’re questioning you. Papà, this is really bad for business .”
Valentino sneered. “The Veil can all burn in hell. I don’t care about their fear or whatever those bastards do. I want my rubies back. And I don’t care if I have to kill every man, woman, and child to get them.”
Matteo shot to his feet. “Enough!”
Valentino’s head snapped toward him.
Matteo’s voice shook with anger. “Why? Why do you care so much about that damn necklace more than everything you’ve spent years to build? More than your own people? You won’t tell Charles. You won’t tell Vivianna. You won't even tell me—you’re own fucking son. What is so goddamn special about it?”
Valentino stood, towering over him. “This conversation is over. Leave.”
“But—”
“Leave!” he roared.
Matteo stormed out, Vivianna following.
Charles lingered, placing a hand on Valentino’s shoulder. “Don’t let it eat you alive,” he murmured, before leaving him alone.
Valentino stayed where he was, staring into the fire, his body trembling with so much bottled up emotions.
Anger.
Frustration.
Hurt…
And betrayal.
And in that silence, a single tear slipped from his one good eye.