Chapter 136: The Real Culprit

GIOVANNI’S POV

The guards met me halfway, from their grim expressions, I could tell they had already been told of the situation.

“Let’s go.” I said gruffly and walked into one of the ooen cars.

The drive was a blur. The driver pushed the car as fast as it would go, my mind racing through possibilities.

Who would attack Robert in his own home? It didn't make sense unless… unless it was personal.

We pulled up to the Vitale mansion to find it in chaos. There were guards running everywhere, lights blazing and the front door was hanging open.

I was out of the car before it fully stopped, my men behind me.

Inside was worse. I didn’t miss the blood on the marble floor or the staff members huddled in corners, crying.

And in the center of it all was Isabella Vitale.

Robert's wife stood in the foyer directing people with a calm authority that hid the terror in her eyes. She was still in her evening dress, now stained with what I assumed was her husband's blood, but her voice never wavered.

"The doctor is with him upstairs. Jose, get the staff calmed down and accounted for. Sofia, I need you to…" She stopped when she saw me. "Giovanni. Thank God."

I had never heard her speak to me with anything but cold politeness before. Now she looked almost relieved.

I blinked away the shock and managed to ask. "Where is he?"

"Come, I’ll take you to him but the doctor is—" Her voice cracked slightly. "It's bad."

I pressed my lips and nodded, following her lead quietly. Despite her stature, she was quite faster than me so I had to take the stairs three at a time.

The hallway was crowded with guards and staff, moving around with basins of water. It looked like Robert wasn’t the only one injured.

We walked past them to find Christabel sitting against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest, her face streaked with tears.

She looked so scared. Without thinking, I stopped and crouched beside her.

My hand touched the top of her head gently and Christabel's eyes went wide with shock. She stared at me like I had grown a second head.

"It's going to be okay," I said quietly. "Your father is strong."

She nodded slowly, still looking stunned that I had spoken to her.

I straightened and continued to Robert's room. A doctor worked over Robert's body on the bed while a nurse assisted. Blood soaked through the bandages they were trying to apply.

Isabella was at Robert’s side swiftly, whispering reassurance into his ear.

"How bad?" I asked from the doorway.

The doctor glanced at Isabella who nodded then he said. "Gunshot wound to the abdomen. He's lost a lot of blood, but the bullet missed major organs. If we can stabilize him-"

"If?" Robert asked weakly, his eyes lazily flipping open. "Don't talk about me like I'm already dead, you quack."

Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch. "Still causing trouble, I see."

"De Santis." Robert tried to turn his head toward me and winced. "Good. You're here."

"Giovanni, don't antagonize him," Isabella appeared beside me, her hand on my arm. "He needs to rest."

"Let the man speak," Robert said. "I don't have much time for-" He coughed, and blood flecked his lips.

The doctor moved to intervene, but Robert waved him off weakly.

"Giovanni. Come here."

I moved to the bedside. Up close, Robert looked worse than I thought. His skin was gray, and his breathing labored. This wasn't just a flesh wound.

His hand reached out, surprisingly strong as it gripped mine.

"I need to tell you something," he rasped. "Before… in case my sins finally catch you to me."

Isabella stiffened beside me and I also didn’t share in his humor. "You're not dying tonight, old man. Save your strength."

"Shut up and listen." He coughed again. "I'm sorry for what I did to your family.” His eyes met mine, lucid and full of genuine remorse. "There's no excuse. I was angry and drunk on power, and I made a choice that destroyed innocent lives."

I stood frozen, unable to process what I was hearing.

"I've lived with it every day," Robert continued, his voice getting weaker. "Every time I looked at my own family, I thought about the ones you lost. And I knew… I knew I deserved whatever came for me."

"Robert, please.” Isabella tried to intervene, tears streaming down her face.

"Let me finish." He squeezed my hand tighter. "I failed Arya too. She deserved better. They all deserved better."

Something in my chest cracked. This manwas lying here bleeding and apologizing for sins I was convinced he would never acknowledge.

"Stop," I said roughly. "Stop talking like you're on your deathbed. You can apologize to Arya yourself when we find her."

His smile turned wry. "If we find her."

"When." I gripped his hand back. "When we find her. And you're going to be there to see your grandson.”

Robert's eyes widened. "Grandson?"

"Or granddaughter. We don't know yet." I managed a tight smile. "So you need to survive this. For Isabella. For Christabel. For the grandchild you haven't met yet."

Robert opened his mouth to respond, but another coughing fit seized him. Blood bubbled at his lips, and the doctor immediately pushed between us.

"Everyone out! Now!"

Isabella grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the door. I let her, watching as the medical team swarmed Robert's bed.

In the hallway, I turned to Isabella. "What happened? Who did this?"

She was shaking now that we were away from Robert, the adrenaline clearly wearing off. "I don't know if I should tell you."

"Isabella." I took her shoulders gently. "Tell me. Who shot your husband?"

Her eyes filled with fresh tears. "He's been suspicious for weeks.” When I frowned, she quickly specified. “Of Marco. Robert’s been keeping a close eye on him.

“Marco?" I whispered.