#Chapter 105 - Hit back hard

The estate bustled with movement: Marcello men arming themselves, strategizing, talking shit, waving proverbial fists at the enemy, posturing, preparing for war … All the things men did. But still, they awaited my command. I stood at the head of the table in the grand dining room, where a makeshift war council had gathered. The room that had once been filled with warmth and family meals now felt cold, transformed into a battlefield before a single shot had been fired. And still, I couldn’t process this cold dichotomy, or the turn my life had taken to lead me here. My mind buzzed with one thought—retaliation. At least they’d let me bring Aldo home; he was unconscious down the hall, sequestered in our bedroom behind soundproof and bulletproof walls. Heavy sedation had rendered him utterly unable to lend even a thought to this fight. Good. With the severity of his injuries, there was no way he should be involved in any capacity. The stress alone would hinder his healing.