Page 65 of Until You Break
The terrace bent to silence. Then murmurs swelled.
“Valente… Valente…” Phones caught every angle. Applause sparked from one corner, curses from another. Some crossed themselves, others muttered prayers, as if to name what they’d seen a sacrament of blood.
Alessandro’s voice rose above it, mocking, sharp as a knife. “If only Riccardo weren’t dragging that name through the dirt, eh? His sons bleed for each other, and the whole terrace applauds. Without him, the Valentis might have been worth something.”
The laughter that answered carried respect with it. Heads nodded. The name Valente hissed through the terrace like smoke, suddenly less curse, more legend.
Damiano’s hand stayed locked on me, iron and heat. “You chose,” he said quietly.
And I had. For him. For Salvatore. For both.
CHAPTER 22
EMILIO
The noise ended with the bell, but the silence that followed was heavier. The Valenti guards closed around their heir as he stepped back from the ropes. For a moment the crowd disappeared. Salvatore turned over his shoulder, eyes finding Emilio. His hand lifted, quick, subtle, fingers brushing the air, tapping temple, then ear.Call me.A sign meant for his brother, caught by phones, caught by whispers, turned into myth before it even faded.
Emilio’s hand twitched, almost reaching. I tightened mine at the hinge of his neck until the impulse stayed inside him. Still, his eyes followed until Salvatore vanished into the dark beyond the terrace.
The crowd shifted, torn between applause and silence. Respect clung in the air like smoke, reluctant and undeniable.
*Valenti. Wolf. *
Husband.
Words hissed low, not meant for my ears. Every phone caught it. Tomorrow the city would wake knowing he’d chosen me.
I kept Emilio close as we left the ring. My knuckles split, blood drying in dark lines. His eyes caught it, mouth tightening, mothering worry creeping in where I didn’t want it.
“You’re bleeding,” he murmured.
“Not enough to matter.”
He caught my hand, thumb brushing the split, too careful. I let him fuss over me for one beat before I curled my fingers and caught his chin.
“Careful,piccolino. You patch me up like you plan to keep me.”
His mouth twitched, torn between irritation and something softer. I pressed his neck until his attention came back where it belonged.
Adrian cleared the path ahead, and the others closed it behind.
We took the private exit. The golden stairs spilled away in a hush of light and echo. The metal caught the city’s spill and fed it back in strips across his throat. The smell changed, less blood and beer, more glass and cold rain. Our footfalls stacked up like a heartbeat going down.
Inside our rooms, the city’s noise turned into memory. The door shut behind us and I didn’t bother with lights. Enough gold from the stairwell made him shine.
Emilio turned to me fast, words already spilling, his eyes wet at the edges. “I can’t believe they did that. Salvatore—he came here, into your house. Do you think Enzo knew? Do you think he planned it with him? Salvatore was always so distant, so cold, and now he—” His voice cracked, then rushed faster. “He fought for me. I can’t believe he fought for me.”
“I can’t either,” I said with a crooked smile, blood still at my mouth. “Crazystronzo.” My hand slid to his nape, steadying the tremor under his skin.
He blinked, still spilling over. I tilted his chin until his eyes met mine. “But he did it. And you’re still here.” My thumb pressed his pulse, slower now, more deliberate. “With me. You told the whole terrace you chose me.”
His eyes shimmered. He didn’t deny it.
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “I did. Even if I can’t explain it yet. But I want something else too. I miss my brothers. I don’t want them fighting for me anymore. I just want time with them again. Meals, afternoons. Normal.”
I studied him, the honesty in his eyes, the ache laid bare. My thumb stroked his pulse once. “Then you will. You’ll see them again, not only at terraces or in fights, but the way you want. No more brothers proving loyalty with blood. But for now, there’ll be guards. Riccardo hasn’t cooled, and I won’t have him near you without eyes on him. You’ll have your time,cucciolo, but you’ll have it safe.”
He gave me the smallest smile, raw and grateful, a whispered thank you trembling at the edge of his mouth. I brushed his temple once in answer, then guided him by the neck toward the bathroom. The door shut behind us. My hand found the switch automatically. Light spilled over tile, bright and clean.
