Page 56 of Veil of the Past
As we make our way out, I know this is only the beginning. A line has been crossed—a battle ignited. And nothing will ever be the same. Not for me, not for my family, and certainly not for Romiro and I. We’ve just stepped into a war we didn’t ask for, and I can feel the cold determination settling in my bones.
They’ve taken something from us, something precious, irreplaceable. And there will be a reckoning. For Nonna, for the blood spilled on these cobblestones, for the shattered peace of this lunch—we will make them pay.
Romiro’s hand tightens on mine as we move quickly through the alley, his eyes darting around, ever watchful. Tension radiates from him—the rigid set of his shoulders, the way he holds himself, ready for anything. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
As we step out into the street, the reality of what just happened starts to settle in. The shock is wearing off, replaced by a cold, simmering rage. I feel it building inside me, spreading through my veins like ice. I’ve lost too much already, and I’m not willing to lose anything more.
Romiro looks at me, his dark eyes meeting mine, and there’s a promise in his gaze, a silent vow that we will see this through, that we will find out who did this and make them pay. His hand tightens around mine, and for the first time since the gunfire started, I feel a glimmer of something else—strength, resolve, the fire of determination that’s burning brighter than the fear.
We’ve just stepped into a storm, but we’re not alone. We have each other, and together, we will face whatever comes next. They don’t know what they’ve unleashed, but they’ll find out soon.
I’m a doctor. I save lives every day, but today, I couldn’t save my Nonna. She’s gone.
Something cold has settled into the dark crevices of my heart.
The Outfit will pay.
28
ALESSIA
The silence in my apartment is suffocating, a thick blanket that presses down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I’m sprawled on the floor in front of my couch, my knees pulled to my chest, my arms wrapped around them like I can keep myself from falling apart if I just hold on tight enough. My breath hitches, and another sob breaks free, ripping through me with a force that shakes my whole body.
I can’t stop crying. The tears flow unchecked down my cheeks, hot and relentless, blurring my vision, making everything look distorted and strange. Mr. Marvin, nudges against me, his warm body offering some comfort, but even his purring doesn’t reach the hollow ache inside me. My chest feels like it’s been carved out, a void where my heart used to be, and every breath I take feels like I’m inhaling shards of glass.
I try to focus on the sounds around me—the hum of the fridge, the distant wail of a siren, the ticking of the clock—but nothing cuts through the fog of my grief. I feel like I’m drowning in it, lost in a sea of memories and pain, each wave pulling me under a little more.
Nonna. She’s gone. Just like that.
The image of her slumped in the chair, her head tilted, her eyes lifeless, her blood slipping through my fingers like water—it all flashes through my mind again, and I choke on another sob. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to block it out, but it’s seared into my brain. I can’t erase it. I can’t unsee it. I loved her so much. She was the glue that held us all together, the one who always knew what to say, the one who could make everything feel okay. Now she’s gone, ripped away in an instant, and nothing makes sense anymore.
A knock on the door startles me, jolting me out of my thoughts. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, my hands trembling. I don’t want to see anyone, don’t want to face the world outside these walls, but the knocking comes again, more insistent this time.
I force myself to stand, my legs feeling like lead, and make my way to the door. I don’t even check who it is before I open it. I just need something, anything, to break through this unbearable loneliness.
Valentina and Mara stand on the other side, their expressions a mix of worry and determination. They’re carrying bags of snacks and bottles of wine, and I see the resolve in their eyes, the way they’re ready to bulldoze through whatever walls I’ve put up.
“Oh, Allie,” Valentina breathes, stepping forward and pulling me into a tight hug. I feel her warmth, the strength in her arms, and I cling to her, my fingers gripping the back of her shirt like she’s my lifeline.
Mara wraps her arms around us both, and suddenly, I’m in the middle of a group hug, surrounded by my closest friends, my family, feeling their love and support like a balm against my broken heart.
They pull back, and Valentina gives me a small, understanding smile. “We’re here,” she says simply, and those two words are enough to crack something open inside me. I nod, unable to speak, and step back to let them in.
Their bodyguards remain outside, standing by the door, alert and watchful. Valentina leads the way into the living room, placing the bags on the coffee table as Mara lowers the lights to a soft, comforting glow. She puts onMamma Mia!. It’s light and warm, but none of us really pay attention to the screen.
We settle on the couch where they flank me, each of them taking one of my hands, grounding me in their presence. I try to speak, to tell them how much this hurts, how lost I feel, but the words stick in my throat. Instead, I just let the tears fall, my shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Valentina’s grip on my hand is firm and unyielding, like she’s trying to transfer her strength to me. Her breath is warm against my cheek, her other hand gently brushing a stray hair away from my face. “We’re here, Allie,” she murmurs, her voice a soothing whisper. “We’re right here. Just breathe. Just stay with us, okay?”
I nod weakly, my head pounding, the room swaying. I see Mara beside Val, her usual playful expression now tight with concern, her hand gently rubbing my shoulder in small, comforting circles. Mara’s eyes are bright with unshed tears, her lips pressed into a thin line, and I know she’s fighting her own battle against the fear that clings to us like a second skin.
“I… I can’t believe she’s gone,” I manage to choke out, my voice trembling, the words raw and jagged in my throat. “Nonna… she was… she was everything.”
Mara’s hand stills on my shoulder, her grip tightening just slightly as if to reassure me that she’s here, that she understands. Her voice is soft when she finally speaks, barely more than a whisper, but there’s a rough edge to it, a crack that betrays the depth of her own pain.
“I know,” she says, her gaze far away like she’s staring into a past she can’t escape. “I know how it feels, Allie. When we lost my dad to the—” She pauses looking at Val, who gives her a nod to continue, “to the Chicago Outfit…It was like… like my whole world just… stopped. He was my hero, you know? And then… he was just… gone. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”
Her voice breaks on the last word, and she takes a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. Grief glimmers in her eyes. The sadness flickers and burns like a dying ember, still glowing with the remnants of an old, searing pain. She looks down at her hands, clenched tightly in her lap, and I realize she’s shaking.
