Page 28 of Until It Ends

As the gunfire subsides, I feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through me. The room is now eerily silent, the smoke slowly dissipating. I scan the area, my eyes locking with Rocco's. There's a fire in his gaze, a determination that matches my own.

"Come out and face me, Dante!" Rocco taunts, his voice dripping with malice.

I take a step forward, my grip on my weapon unwavering. "Gladly."

And then we're both out in the open, facing each other like two predators ready to pounce. There's no fear in his eyes, only a twisted sense of satisfaction.

"You thought you could take everything from me," Rocco sneers. "But you underestimated me, Dante."

"I didn't underestimate you," I reply calmly. "I just don't fear you."

And then the gunfire resumes, the sound echoing through the night like a deadly symphony. We dance around each other, bullets grazing past, each shot bringing us closer to the brink.

I can feel the weight of the past, the memories of all the pain and suffering he has caused. But I can't let emotions cloud my judgment. This is about survival, about protecting what matters most to me.

As the smoke clears and the dust settles, I stand tall, my heart still pounding in my chest. Rocco stumbles to his vehicle, clutching his side, blood seeping from his wounds. But it's not over.

I won't stop...until it ends.

As I walk away from the scene, my mind is already racing with the next move. This is a game of strategy and wits, and I'm determined to come out on top. I can't let anything or anyone stand in my way.

The city streets are quiet now, the chaos of the shootout contained within those walls. But I know the storm is far from over. Rocco is just one piece of the puzzle, and I'm ready to face whatever comes next.

Twenty-Seven

Valeria

Itrace the outline of my neck in the bathroom mirror, feeling the bruises that Rocco left embedded into my skin. His violent outburst replays in my mind like a horrific movie and I can still feel his wrath lashing against me. The bruise is visible even after I drench it with makeup, and I'm reminded of the dangerous path I've chosen, one marred with suffering and pain.

I've been feeling unwell for weeks, blaming it on the everyday worry that has become an unwelcome part of my life. But a sudden realization slams into me with force—my period is late. Fear and disbelief rise up within me as I feel my heart racing in my chest, threatening to burst from the sheer terror consuming me.

I was counting the seconds since I had taken the pregnancy test, each one feeling like a day. Fear slowly started to set in and as much as I wanted to push the thought away, I knew that I had to take a look soon. My hands were trembling as I picked up the stick and when my eyes saw the answer, my heart skipped a beat: pregnant.

I stare at the test in disbelief. No, it can't be true. How could I have let this happen? I can't be pregnant, not like this. Anxiety rises inside me as I sit there on the floor, waiting for my fate to be revealed. My head spins with a thousand different possibilities as I take deep breaths and try to stay calm.

My eyes fill with tears. Positive. The test is positive. I'm pregnant with Dante's child.

My mind races with a whirlwind of emotions. I want to be happy, but fear and uncertainty overshadow any sense of joy. This isn't how I imagined starting a family, entangled in the dangerous world of the Cipriano and Argentieri families.

I wipe away the tears that escape, my mind racing with questions and doubts. How can I bring a child into this chaos? How can I protect them from the darkness that surrounds me? And what about Dante? He has his own battles to fight. He has his own path to take.

I get up from the floor and wash my face, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The weight of this secret feels suffocating, and I know I can't keep it hidden forever. But the timing is all wrong. I need to figure things out before I reveal the truth.

Twenty-Eight

Valeria

The dinner feels like an eternity. I sit at the table, trying my best to act present, but the queasiness in my stomach makes it hard to focus. Most of the time, only Enzo and Polo are talking, discussing business deals and alliances. Rocco is conspicuously absent, claiming a business engagement, but I suspect he's avoiding me. Ever since that day when he choked me, he's been distant and evasive. I haven't uttered a word about Rocco's mistreatment to anyone, not wanting to further complicate the already tense atmosphere.

As the conversation drones on, I feel the waves of nausea growing stronger. My palms are sweaty, and my heart pounds in my chest. I try to take small sips of water to quell the discomfort, but it's no use. My body is betraying me, and I know it's only a matter of time before I can't keep up the façade any longer.

And then it happens—all of a sudden, I lean over, my hand covering my mouth, and I vomit right there at the table. Panic courses through me, but I can't stop it. I push back my chair, stumbling to my feet. "I'm sorry," I manage to say before I run from the dining hall.

I dash down the hallway, desperate to find a bathroom before I embarrass myself further. But my legs feel weak, and I can't make it to the bedroom in time. I barely make it to one of the downstairs bathrooms before I'm vomiting again. Tears sting my eyes, a mix of shame and frustration overwhelming me. How did it come to this? How did I let myself become so careless?

When I finally emerge from the bathroom, Polo is there with a lady from the medical staff, worry etched on his face. "Valeria, are you alright?" he asks, concern in his voice.

I shake my head, my voice trembling. "I think I might be sick. Maybe I caught something."

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