The Surrender of the Twin Dons Chapter 09

The Surrender of the Twin Dons Chapter 09

Luciana’s pov

I glanced up at the antique clock on the wall.

Right on cue.

I rose, crossed to the study door, and shoved it open just as their shouting peaked.

My face was ghost-white, tears cutting tracks through my skin.

I’d joined the drama club freshman year—chased a scholarship, picked up a fair bit of stage craft along the way.

It turned out all that training would serve me well today.

“Luciana…”

Salvatore’s brows snapped together. When he spoke, his breath fell ragged and uneven.

I stared at him, dazed.

Then let my gaze drift—slowly—to Vincenzo.

And held his stare unblinking as silent tears spilled free.

A man’s guilt over hurting a woman is a weapon far sharper than any blade.

My window to escape was narrow, closing by the second.

And this—this was the perfect moment.

“Vincenzo.”

I breathed his name in a fragile whisper.

“Luciana…” He stepped forward instinctively.

I jerked back. “Don’t.”

“Luciana, let me explain—”

“Vincenzo. You were my first love. My first everything.”

“You know how much I cared. How much I loved you.”

With every sentence I spoke, I retreated another step away from him.

“I could’ve handled you falling out of love.”

“But I can’t handle you giving me away…”

“This past year… I was happy. So happy.”

“No one’s ever been that good to me.”

“Turns out… it was all just a dream.”

“Luciana, no—listen to me—”

I shook my head, tears flooding over. “Vincenzo. The dream’s over.”

“I’m done dreaming…”

On the last word, I turned and bolted for the second-floor terrace.

Below, the lawn stretched—perfectly manicured.

The gardener had tilled the soil yesterday. Soft.

I’d calculated the height.

A jump from here would leave me with no injury worse than a sprained ankle—physically trivial.

But the visual? Devastating.

And I’d bet right.

Salvatore and Vincenzo burst onto the terrace. Without hesitation, I leapt.

Like I’d decided to die.

Their voices screamed my name—raw, shredded with panic.

I couldn’t tell whose was whose.

Falling, I let a mocking smile curl my lips.

Chaos erupted across the estate.

The flawless, unflappable Don Rizzo now stood covered head-to-toe in mud, his usual composure vanished without a trace.

He reached for me, then snatched his hand back, terrified to touch.

I curled in the muck, my right ankle bent at an impossible angle, swelling fast.

“Luciana, don’t move. The family ambulance is two minutes out—”

Salvatore fought desperately to steady his tone, but his voice cracked completely.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bit down on my lip, and swallowed every cry of pain.

Vincenzo stood frozen, paralyzed.

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.

Only then did I open my eyes, riding out the white-hot agony of shattered bone.

“No hospital.”

“Don’t save me.”

Each word punched out between clenched teeth, sweat beading on my forehead.

I turned to Vincenzo, lip split and bleeding.

He trembled, eyes bloodshot, staring at me like I’d already died.

“I don’t want to see you again, Vincenzo.”

“Luciana…” His voice scraped rough as sandpaper. He staggered forward.

I ripped my gaze away.

Shifted it to Salvatore.

The second our eyes met, all my fragile self-control shattered.

“I don’t want to see you again either, Salvatore.”

All men soften once they’ve shared intimacy with a woman.

That sliver of softness—that’s what I’d gambled on.

“Hospital first, Luciana… please.”

“I won’t go unless you promise.”

“This isn’t the time for stubbornness.”

Salvatore pressed fingers to his temple, pulse hammering. “Let them get you on the stretcher.

Don’t move, Luciana!”

I didn’t listen.

Bone tore through skin. Blood poured out.

It spread—slow, thick—over the old scar on my calf.

Soaked into that faded “petal.”

Salvatore’s pupils constricted. Color drained from his face.

“Stop moving.”

He stared at me, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

“Neither Vincenzo nor I will ever seek you out or cross your path again.”

With the last of my strength, I smiled up at him.

Darkness rushed in. Just before I lost consciousness, I forced out one ragged breath.

“Babe… this is the only time I’ll ever trust you.”