A Few Minutes Later
Lorenzo's car finally pulled into the driveway of his villa after several minutes of silent driving. The tires crunched softly on the gravel before he cut the engine. An almost heavy silence settled over the car's interior.
Beside him, Chloé, who had been fast asleep since they left, stirred slightly. Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze still lost somewhere between dreams and reality. She took a deep breath, ran a hand through her messy hair, and then, without a word, opened the door and stepped out of the car. The cool night wind brushed against her face, making her shiver.
Lorenzo remained motionless for a moment, his hands resting on the steering wheel. His mind was still clouded by everything that had happened over the last few hours. He was about to get out when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and sighed as he answered.
**Lorenzo** *(hoarse, tired voice)*
_ Marco, now is not the time. I'm with Chloé and...
But Marco's voice brutally cut him off.
**Marco** *(hurried, worried)*
_ No man, listen to me carefully! I found out something insane about Valentina's cousin. That guy isn't who he claims to be. In fact, he was hired by your wife's mother to get close to Chloé and gain her trust. That's how she hoped to see her again.
Lorenzo stayed silent for a few seconds, frozen, his eyes staring straight ahead. His breathing grew heavy, his jaw clenched. Anger surged inside him all at once—violent, brutal.
**Marco**
_ You need to convince Chloé to go back to your place, man. Where she is right now isn't safe.
**Lorenzo** *(in a hard, icy voice)*
_ Meet me tonight at the cellar.
Without waiting any longer, he hung up, his eyes dark with rage. He stepped out of the car with a firm stride, his face set, anger boiling in his veins. Chloé, standing by the entrance, was waiting for him quietly with her arms crossed. She turned her head toward him, but her expression suddenly shifted. Her eyes widened, frozen in horror.
**Chloé** *(screaming with all her might)*
_ LORENZOOOOOOOOOOO!
*BANG! BANG!*
Two gunshots rang out.
Lorenzo didn't even have time to turn around. Two bullets had just pierced his back. His body tensed under the impact before staggering heavily forward.
His phone slipped from his hand, and he collapsed onto his stomach.
Chloé felt her heart stop. She stared, helpless, at the dark silhouette of the masked man in black, still holding his smoking weapon. Her blood ran cold.
**Chloé** *(screaming)*
_ NO! LORENZO!
She ran at full speed, her legs shaking, her breath caught in her throat, while the shooter got into a black car parked a little further away. The tires screeched violently before the car vanished into the night.
Chloé collapsed beside Lorenzo, her knees hitting the ground. Blood was spreading across the driveway tiles—warm, thick, slipping through her fingers.
**Chloé** *(crying, panicking)*
_ My love, no… stay with me, not this… not this… Lorenzo, talk to me please!
She caressed his cheek, trembling, unable to stop the tears streaming down her face. Her hands were covered in blood, her fingers desperately searching for a response, a sign of life.
Lorenzo, half-conscious, was trying to breathe. Each inhalation seemed to cost him a lifetime. His lips moved weakly, but no words came out.
**Chloé** *(gasping, desperate)*
_ Hold on… I beg you, hold on…
She looked around her, her panicked eyes scanning the ground. Her gaze fell on Lorenzo's phone, which had dropped a few meters away. She lunged for it, her trembling fingers dialing the first number that appeared: Marco.
The phone rang several times before he picked up.
**Marco**
– Hey man, you...
**Chloé** *(trembling voice)*
– Ma… Marco… Lorenzo… Lorenzo's been shot twice… come quickly please, I…
**Marco**
– WHAT?! He's what?! Fuck, I'm on my way right now! Stay calm, I'm calling an ambulance now!
The call cut off abruptly. The phone slipped from Chloé's shaking hands and fell to the ground. Short of breath, her face covered in tears, she knelt beside Lorenzo. His body was heavy, inert, stretched out on the cold tiles. Blood was slowly escaping from his back, forming a dark red pool spreading beneath him.
Chloé gently lifted his head and rested it on her lap. Her fingers stroked his sweat-drenched hair while her tears fell onto his face.
**Chloé** *(crying)*
– Lorenzo, don't leave me… don't do this… I need you so much, my love… Fight, please, fight for us… You can't abandon me, you can't…
Her sobs became uncontrollable, her voice breaking with every word.
**Chloé** *(trembling voice)*
– It's my fault… it's all my fault… Forgive me, my love… it's because of me, all of this… Wake up, please…
The minutes stretched out, long and unbearable. Five… ten minutes… then finally, the sound of a siren echoed in the distance. The ambulance pulled into the fenceless driveway. Two paramedics jumped out, stretcher in hand. They rushed toward Lorenzo.
– Gunshot wound! one of them shouted, leaning over him.
They turned him over with care, laying him on his stomach. Blood was still flowing from his wounds, the fabric of his shirt stuck to his skin. Within seconds, they hoisted him onto the stretcher and carried him to the ambulance.
Chloé wanted to get inside, but Marco's car arrived at that exact moment, braking brutally in the dust.
She turned around, her face ravaged by tears, and ran toward him.
Marco didn't need to speak. He threw the door open, Chloé got in, and he immediately drove off, following close behind the ambulance.
**Chloé** *(crying)*
– Marco… Marco, if Lorenzo dies, I die too… I can't live without him…
Marco squeezed the steering wheel with all his might. His fingers were clenched, his knuckles white. He shot a brief look at Chloé, full of worry.
**Marco** *(trembling voice)*
– He won't die, Chloé… he's been through worse than this… believe me…
**Chloé** *(in tears)*
– It was a masked man, Marco… I saw him… he shot him! I saw everything!
**Marco** *(reassuring)*
– Calm down… breathe, okay? Everything is going to be fine, I promise you…
But nothing was fine. The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive. The tires cut through the road, the red flashing lights reflecting on the windshield. Chloé shook uncontrollably, her eyes glued to the ambulance ahead of them.
Inside the vehicle, the paramedics worked desperately around Lorenzo. One pressed down on his wound, another checked his pulse. Two bullets had torn through his back—one lodged in his shoulder, the other in his spine.
The beep of the monitor flickered weakly. Time seemed suspended.
### Four Hours Later
**Chloé** *(inner voice)*
> Four hours of waiting. Four hours that the doctors have been locked in with him without any news. I feel like I'm going to die if someone doesn't come out soon. My heart breaks with every passing minute, it hurts, it hurts so bad… Everything happened so fast that I still can't believe I'm here, in a hospital waiting room, begging fate not to take him away from me. I don't want to lose him, not him.
>
Chloé paced nervously back and forth, her hands clasped in front of her mouth, her eyes swollen from crying. Marco leaned against the wall, his gaze blank, his breath shallow. He had no words left. Just fear.
The seconds felt like hours until a door finally opened. The doctor appeared, looking grave, his face lined with exhaustion.
Chloé practically leaped, running toward him.
**Chloé** *(crying)*
– Doctor! Tell me… how is my husband? He… he's going to make it, right?
**Marco** *(trembling voice)*
– Answer us, doctor… how is my friend? Were you able to remove the bullets?
The doctor lowered his eyes for a moment before looking up, his tone low and hesitant.
**Doctor** *(calmly)*
– I am truly sorry, but…
The breath caught in Chloé's throat.
**Chloé** *(trembling voice)*
– What?… But… what doctor? Answer me!
**Doctor** *(sadly)*
– The patient has just passed away. My deepest condolences.
Chloé's world collapsed all at once.
**Chloé** *(feebly)*
– Wh… what?… He's…
Her legs gave out beneath her. Her gaze went blank. Before she could even finish her sentence, she collapsed heavily onto the floor.
Marco, seized with panic, rushed forward and caught her just in time. He took her in his arms, holding her tight against him, his face trembling.
**Marco** *(trembling voice)*
– Chloé, fuck, wake up…
**Doctor** *(concerned)*
– Follow me, we need to resuscitate her.
Marco followed the doctor without hesitation. They hurried down the dimly lit hallway, their steps quick, hearts pounding like drums. In the resuscitation room, he gently laid Chloé onto the bed. Her face was pale, her lips already tinged with blue, and her hands hung limply. The doctor and the medical team bustled about, their movements precise but rapid. Marco stayed in the hallway, breathless, torn between the announcement of Lorenzo's death and the sight of Chloé lying there, motionless.
**Marco** *(broken voice)*
– No… Lorenzo… I can't believe you're dead… not you…
Drained of all energy, he collapsed against the hallway wall. He slid down to the floor, knees bent, and began to weep like an abandoned child—rough, ragged sobs that filled the space and shattered the hospital silence. Inside, the doctors worked to bring Chloé back; on the monitor, her heart rate wavered.
**Marco** *(crying, screaming)*
– Lorenzo, my brother! Damn it, who did this to you? Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…
His cry echoed, heavy and hollow, through the corridors. He had lost his bearings; the world felt torn apart. A few minutes passed—too long—then the doctor finally stepped out of the room, looking closed off, worn by the effort. Marco bolted upright, wiped his tears with the back of his hand, and stepped forward, his eyes bloodshot with fear.
**Marco** *(anxious)*
– How is she, doctor? Tell me she's going to make it…
**Doctor** *(reassuring)*
– She is very weak given her condition, but out of danger for the time being. To prevent further distress, I've administered a sedative: she will sleep for several hours. Above all, she must remain calm; she is highly emotional and fragile right now.
**Marco** *(surprised)*
– What do you mean 'given her condition'?
**Doctor** *(calmly)*
– There is something else you need to know: she is three months pregnant. The pregnancy isn't visible yet, but it is crucial that she remains at complete rest.
Those words hit Marco like a sledgehammer. An icy silence settled around him; his thoughts raced. He didn't know what to say, feeling both fury and fear rising within him.
**Marco** *(calm but firm)*
– She can't stay here, not like this, especially after what happened to Lorenzo. I'm not taking any risks. Prepare what's necessary, I want her taken back home. And I want to see my friend's body. I need to see him.
**Doctor** *(firmly)*
– I am sorry, but for the moment, you cannot see the body.
**Marco** *(surprised)*
– Why?
**Doctor** *(seriously)*
– An autopsy must be performed. This is an attempted murder—well, a murder case now—and the authorities must be notified.
Marco remained silent. He understood, but he also knew that involving the police would be dangerous for this business: deep down, he already knew who could be behind this. Yet he said nothing, clenching his fists and keeping his thoughts to himself.
**Marco** *(calmly)*
– For now, just take care of her. Transfer her. After that, I'd like to speak with you about Lorenzo's death.
The doctor nodded and walked away to arrange the transfer. Marco stood alone for a moment in the corridor, his breathing ragged.
**Marco** *(muttering, determined)*
– I swear to you… they will pay. I will find whoever ordered your murder, Lorenzo, and I will make them pay with my own hands.
His voice was low but burning with a promise. The hallway fell silent again. In the background, the night continued to claim its secrets.
To be continued...