Page 50 of The Shadow King's Brother

Habit. Ritual. Comfort.

Pulling out my phone,I shoot a quick text to Nica:

‘Love you,fiancé. Be back soon. Someone will bring the water to your room.’

I almost add a winking emoji.My thumb hovers, then I delete it.

I’m not fucking five—

Even if she makes me feel like a damn kid again. Light. Giddy. Reckless.

The word ‘fiancé’ sits weirdly in my hand. I send the message anyway. A fragile, beautiful word in a world of blood and shadows.

I instruct the night butler to bring Nica water, he nods curtly and moves upstairs.

I slide the phone into my pocket, jaw set. Time to move. We’re out the door quickly, plunging into the cool night air.

Chapter8

Elio De Luca

Angelo pullsthe car up to the VIP entrance of the private hospital, and Marco’s already out, scanning the perimeter like his life depends on it. It might.

“Stay sharp,” I mutter, more to myself than to Vinny, who hasn’t said a word since we left the house. The exhaustion is clawing at me now, tugging at the edges of my focus. It’s 2 a.m. I haven’t slept in days.

My mother and baby sister—Celeste—are staying in a private suite for the next week. Costs more than most people make in a year, but she deserves safety. Clean. Untouchable. So I made it happen.

The elevator ride is silent, save for the low mechanical hum grinding against my nerves. Vinny stares at the glowing numbers above the door. I can’t read him—never could—but the tension rolls off him in waves.

What the fuck is he thinking?

My hand drifts instinctively to the grip of my gun, resting at my hip.

The elevator doors slide open to a quiet, dimly lit corridor. Two of my men—Alessandro and his brother Dante—stand like statues outside the suite, hands behind their backs, eyes scanning everything.

“Everything quiet?” I ask Alessandro.

“Sì, Capo. No problems.”

“Good.”

Gio stands just inside the suite’s double doors, arms crossed, face a thundercloud. I’d forgotten he was on guard tonight—he must’ve just come off shift from the house. Exhausted, but still sharp. And judging by the way his jaw tightens when he sees Vinny, no one told him my brother would be tagging along.

His eyes flash with open hostility.

“Elio,” he says, voice low, tight. “What the hell is he doing here? I thought I just got rid of him.” He jerks his head toward Vinny. “He doesn’t belong here. Not near Maria. Not near the baby.”

Gio’s jaw tightens. He looks from me to Vinny, his eyes filled with disgust.

“You’re making a mistake, Elio. Some things can’t be forgiven.”

“Maybe,” I concede. “But right now, I need him. And what I need, I get.”

Maria’s voice, soft but firm, floats from inside the suite. “Gio, Elio, enough. Come on in.”

Gio hesitates for a moment. Then, with a sigh of resignation, he steps aside. “Behave,” he spits, stepping into the suite.

“Oh, relax, meathead. I’m not here to kill anyone,” Vinny says, shaking his head and putting his arms up in mock surrender.

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