Page 132 of A War Around Us

I ached throughout my body, and while I held my discomfort from showing, a faint tingle stuck around. A blurry prick I couldn’t shake. A grogginess. As if my body was fighting against itself. Orsomething.

A thought came to mind. The pills I’d consumed.

“You guys drugged me!”

Viktor chuckled and rose from the ground with his laptop tucked under his arm.

“I would hardly call itdrugged.” I couldn’t believe him. “And if I recall, you took them willingly.”

“I didn’t think it would knock me out.”

Viktor’s mouth twisted in thought. “Yeah, neither did we. Which is why you are up now. We stopped at the third, or was it the fourth pill?”Was he joking?“Anyway, I’ll be in the dining room if you need me.”

The thought of not being alone for some time made me close my eyes and take a deep breath. I had a sitter.

The clock by my bedside table announced past lunch, and the sight of my phone facing down, charging, got the best of me.

I powered it on, and multiple notifications of missed calls popped up. Most were from Enzo, except a message from Daniva?

I cleared the history and checked the date.

Tuesday.

The gala was on Saturday.

Two days. Iwastedtwo days.

I reached for Vino’s head that hadn’t moved too far from my reach and sank my fingers through his coat as I played the voicemail Enzo had left. It was brief with only two words spoken.“Call me.”I ignored it, just as he ignored mine after I’d humiliated myself by begging him to take me away from Father’s house.

Then there was Davina’s text. A simple,“feel better.”She must’ve overheard Ilias at one point because these men didn’t offer information freely.

Lucca must’ve given her my number because we’d never exchanged them.Lucca.

I found his number, and before I could think of my actions, I pressed call.

It rang once. The long tone cut through the silence with unease, and I wanted to hang up. I wanted to reverse time in one ring. Take it back, along with the insecurity it brought. A childish need. But the uncertainty faded when the second tone was cut short by Italian words and his deep voice.

“Are you okay?” Lucca asked, distracted. Wind tumbled, horns chimed, and loud commotion spread through the receiver. Then it all stopped after a car door slammed shut.

Ignoring his question, I replied. “Hey.”

Silence.

“Hi.”

More silence. So quiet that if it wasn’t for the faint ruffles and static, I would have thought he’d ended the call.

“I’m on my way, okay?”

Merda, my stupid heart.

I didn’t wantto see my face. It didn’t matter that after cleaninghisblood the damage was minimal. But I did. I stared at my features for at least a full minute. In two days I healed faster than the gash my father had gifted me before arriving in Miami.

And as my face glowed under the fresh coat of ointment, I knew the reason. It may not be magic, but it definitely was as close to it. Or maybe it was a shot of steroids paired with Lucca’s favorite brown. Either way, I still looked hideous, but a healing one.

I stretched my arms up as I approached the closet. Arlo’s blow to my ribs still greeted me, but at least my breathing returned fluidly. My wrist ached with sudden movements but strengthened. And the kick to my back from the bastard only helped my posture to remain straight.

Overall, I didn’t mind the leftover pain that grew as the effect of the pills faded. And while my lips were cracked, I was alive.

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