Holding Our Breaths
Everyone in the safehouse was on edge.
Adriano’s blood was everywhere—on the floor, on the table, on their hands—and no one knew if it meant anything anymore. The med team moved with surgical precision, packing gauze, hooking up IVs, checking vitals. Every few seconds, one of their monitors let out a high-pitched beep that made Diamond’s heart leap, only for it to settle back into that slow, awful rhythm.
“Alright,” the lead doctor barked, “he’s stable enough for transport. But barely.”
“Then move him,” Alessandro said immediately. His voice was steel. “Get him in the ambulance.”
The medics nodded, working fast to strap Adriano onto a stretcher. They lifted him, the blood soaked towel pressed against his chest still turning darker by the second.
Diamond’s hands wouldn’t let go.
“I’m coming with him,” she said, her voice cracking, trembling as she clung to his wrist.
“Ma’am, we need room to work—” one of the medics started.
She cut him off, louder this time. “I’m coming with him!”
“Diamond.” Alessandro’s voice cut through hers like a blade.
She whipped her head toward him, her hair sticking to her tear streaked face.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough for only her to hear. “You can’t.”
“I can’t just let him go.”
“You can,” Alessandro said firmly. “Listen to me. We’re all still in disguise. We’re covered in blood. You especially. If we walk into a hospital like this, they’ll surely ask us questions. Questions we can’t afford to answer.”
“I don’t care.” she replied.
“You do care,” Gabriele interrupted gently, stepping in beside his brother. His voice was calmer, softer, the way you’d speak to someone on a ledge. “You care enough to do what’s right for him. If they ask the wrong questions… if they figure out who he is or who we are… they won’t save him. They’ll probably hand him and us over to the authorities.”
Diamond’s bottom lip quivered. She looked between them, then back at Adriano, as if her very soul was being ripped apart.
“He’ll be fine,” Alessandro said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Serena will go with them. And Marco…” He looked over his shoulder. “You’re going too. Get that damn arm checked.”
Marco, who’d been leaning against the wall and cradling his bleeding arm, let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “Oh, great. I get a field trip.”
“You can thank me later,” Alessandro said flatly.
“Don’t push it,” Marco muttered, though his usual bite lacked weight.
“Enzo,” Gabriele said, turning to him. “You look halfway decent. You’re going with them too. Make sure nothing happens on the way.”
Enzo adjusted his tie, which was still miraculously intact despite everything. “Fine. But if this thousand dollar shirt gets ruined, someone’s buying me another one.”
No one laughed.
The medics started moving Adriano out. Diamond followed, but Alessandro’s hand shot out, catching her wrist.
“Stay,” he said quietly.
Her breath hitched.
“Please,” he added, softer this time.
Diamond pulled her arm back but didn’t fight him. She stood frozen in place as they wheeled Adriano away.
—
The bright, sterile smell of antiseptic hit them like a slap as soon as Serena, Marco, and Enzo burst through the ER doors with the medics.
“Gunshot wound to the chest!” one of the doctors shouted. “He’s bleeding out—get an OR ready now!”
Marco lingered behind as they rushed Adriano down the hall, muttering to Enzo, “Always loved the VIP treatment.”
Enzo rolled his eyes. “You’re leaking blood like a bad faucet. Go get it fixed before you make a mess on the nice clean floors.”
“I’m fine,” Marco grunted.
“Marco.” Serena’s said with a flat tone. “Go.”
With a heavy sigh, he finally let one of the nurses drag him off toward a treatment room, grumbling something under his breath.
Serena stayed in the waiting room with Enzo, tapping anxiously at her laptop as she checked street cams, making sure they didn't somehow get tracked down by La Rosa Nera. Marco rejoined them after a while, his arm freshly bandaged, and the three of them sat in heavy silence.
By the time Alessandro, Gabriele, Diamond, and Luca arrived, the night sky had shifted to that dead gray just before dawn.
Diamond hadn’t spoken since they left the safehouse. She’d stared out the van window, silent tears slipping down her cheeks, her hands trembling in her lap.
When they walked into the waiting room, Serena immediately stood. “They’re still operating on him,” she said before anyone could ask.
Diamond sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands.
“Has anyone said anything? Any updates?” she asked.
“No.” Serena’s voice softened. “But no news is… not bad news. It means they’re still fighting for him.”
Diamond nodded, but her hands didn’t move from her face.
Alessandro sat beside her. He leaned in slightly, his voice low and comforting. “He’ll make it.”
She slowly lowered her hands, staring at him.
“You don’t know that,” she whispered.
“I do.”
He reached for her hand, hesitated only a moment, then took it gently in his. His thumb brushed over her skin, a simple, grounding motion.
Her heart skipped. For just a second, she let herself sink into that comfort.
But then she caught herself.
Diamond pulled her hand away, abruptly standing and walking to sit beside Serena instead.
It was subtle. Almost nothing.
But Luca saw it.
He’d seen the look in Alessandro’s eyes too. And Diamond’s.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even shift in his chair.
But his thoughts were clear.
"When Adriano wakes up…” he thought to himself, “he deserves to know. I'm gonna tell him.”
—
Hours stretched into what felt like days. Marco, freshly bandaged and already cracking jokes, tried his best to lift the mood.
“On the bright side,” he said, gesturing to his arm, “chicks dig scars. Gonna milk this one for all it’s worth.”
No one laughed.
“Wow,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. “Tough crowd.”
Gabriele sat across from him, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it held the answers to the universe. Luca paced. Serena typed and erased the same email draft five times over. Alessandro just sat there, stone faced, staring at the doors like he could will them to open.
Diamond hadn’t moved since she sat down.
Every tick of the clock made the silence feel heavier.
Finally, the doors opened.
The doctor stepped out, still in scrubs splattered with blood. He looked exhausted.
Everyone jumped to their feet, practically mobbing him.
“How is he?”
“Did he make it?”
“Is he okay?!”
“Please, just tell us—”
“Enough.” Alessandro’s voice cut through the chaos.
Everyone fell silent.
Alessandro stepped forward, his voice firm but calm. “Doctor. Please, go ahead.”
The man looked at all of them, then took a deep breath.
“I have very bad news.”