𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

Chapter Fifty-Nine

ADELINE
MEADOWS

I haven't laid eyes on Luciano for a span of two excruciatingly long days. How those two fucking days seemed to stretch on endlessly, like a never-ending abyss.

The clock had struck past midnight, and there I was, indulging in the yummy eating of cookies and cream ice cream, while engrossed in the spectacle of Damiano and Angelo playing video games.

However, the tranquility of the night was abruptly shattered by a series of ear-piercing, agonizing screams that reverberated through the air.

The Mariano brothers exchanged a glance of unease, and in that very instant, I sprang up from my seat. The ghostly gazes they exchanged did not escape my eyes, further fueling my growing apprehension.

What the hell is going on?

Without a second thought, I abandoned my half-eaten ice cream, landing it to the ground and hastily ascended the stairs, my head throbbing in response to the escalating screams that seemed to grow in intensity with each passing moment. The source of this noise led me to none other than Carlo's bedroom, and a wave of heightened concern washed over me as I cautiously pushed open the door.

Carlo.

Oh, God.

What awaited me inside was beyond anything I could have anticipated. My heart sank as I watched Carlo, his eyes tightly shut, his body drenched in perspiration, and his once immaculate hair now disheveled. His voice, usually so mellifluous and soft, had transformed into a deep, guttural growl as he bellowed in his sleep, punctuating his distress with a string of profanities that seemed to escape his lips involuntarily.

He looked so... Different.

I quickly rushed to his bedside, desperately reaching out to grab his hand, but he forcefully pushed me away. Frustration and concern flooded my voice as I called out his name, "Carlo, wake up!" I pleaded, desperately trying to establish a connection with him.

Damiano, standing nearby, attempted to gently nudge me away, advising against raising my voice. "No, don't yell. It'll only make things worse, Adeline," he cautioned, his tone filled with worry.

I couldn't help but express my frustration, "So, you're just going to stand there and let him suffer, reliving the pain from your past? Pain that I still don't even fucking know about." My words were laced with a mix of anger and confusion.

Damiano, ever the composed one, responded calmly, "Adeline, quit using such language before I force you to stop."

I refused to back down, determined to make him understand, "I won't let him endure that pain all over again. I challenge you to find a way to help him, to ease his suffering."

"Hell, Adeline. I don't know how to do this. Luciano knows how to handle this not me."

An idea struck me, and I suggested sarcastically, "Well, why don't you call Luciano from one of the other women's phones? He'd probably answer since he's been ignoring all of my calls." My frustration seeped through my words, highlighting the strain in our relationship.

But amidst our personal issues, I reminded myself that this was about Carlo. It was about his well-being and finding a way to support him through this difficult time. The pain in my wrist served as a constant reminder, the bandages still wrapped around it, causing me immense discomfort.