Luca ran toward the door before he could even think. His heart pounded violently, his breath sharp and shallow.
The door burst open with a dull thud, and darkness swallowed everything.
"Clara!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the night.
No answer. Only the wind.
The streetlamps flickered, one of them creaking above him like a dying heartbeat.
Silence. Emptiness. They were gone.
The killer. And Clara.
For a long moment, he stood there, breath misting in the cold air, the taste of panic metallic in his mouth. Then he turned back inside, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles cracked.
He had failed. Again.
Adrian lay sprawled on the floor, his skin ashen, chest rising barely enough to prove he was still alive.
Blood had pooled beneath him, thick, dark, spreading like something alive.
Giulia knelt beside him, her hands shaking as she pressed a soaked gauze against his wound.
"Pass me the suture kit!" Luca barked, kneeling down beside them.
Giulia looked up, her eyes wide, glistening with tears.
"We have to take him to the hospital! He's bleeding out, you can't fix this alone!"
"No!"
Luca's voice cut through the air like a whip.
"We can't. To everyone else, Adrian is dead. If the hospital identifies him, we'll have the police, reporters, and too many questions we can't afford to answer."
Giulia froze, staring at him.
Luca didn't explain further. He tore open the kit, slipped on the gloves, threaded the needle with trembling fingers.
His hands knew what to do but his mind was a storm of guilt.
Blood dripped steadily to the floor.
Each pull of the thread was agony, not for the wound, but for what it meant.
Giulia held the flashlight with shaking fingers, her breath hitching with every pass of the needle.
Adrian groaned faintly, but didn't move.
After what felt like an eternity, Luca tied off the last stitch and cut the thread.
"The bleeding's stopped," he whispered, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Now we just have to hope he wants to stay alive."
He pressed two fingers to Adrian's throat.
The pulse was weak, but steady.
A flicker of life: fragile, stubborn, human.
The first breath came as a ragged gasp.
A sound halfway between pain and rebirth.
Adrian turned his head, lids fluttering open.
The light stabbed his eyes. Every muscle screamed.
Giulia froze.
"He's waking up…"
Luca leaned closer.
"Take it easy. You're safe now. Don't move."
Adrian blinked, his gaze struggling to focus.
He saw the cracked ceiling, two blurred faces, shadows dancing at the edges of his vision. Then, through dry lips, a single name slipped out, hoarse, broken, but unmistakable: "Clara."
The word carried everything: terror, love, and loss all at once.
He tried to sit up, but the pain at his side made him collapse back with a strangled cry.
"Where is she?" he rasped.
His voice was raw, but his eyes were clear, blazing.
"Where is Clara?"
Luca swallowed hard.
"The killer took her," he said quietly.
"She offered herself… to save Giulia."
Adrian froze. Then his breath came short and sharp. He pushed himself up again, blood seeping through the stitches.
"You should've saved her, not me!" he roared.
"You were there! You let him take her! You should've let me die if it meant she… she could live!"
His voice broke on her name.
"She always comes first," he whispered, trembling with rage.
"Always."
Luca didn't argue. He took the anger, the hate, the words that cut deeper than any knife, because he deserved them.
When Adrian finally went silent, Luca's voice came out low, steady, full of something between guilt and sorrow.
"You're right," he said. "But if you'd died, no one could save her now. And she… she wouldn't survive losing you."
Adrian's eyes burned.
"You already betrayed me once," he said through clenched teeth. "Don't you dare do it again."
Luca looked away, jaw tight. He had known this moment would come. It was time.
"Let me explain," he said softly. "When Rinaldi found me, he was looking for someone… like you. Someone special. I told him about your gift."
Adrian stared, the silence thick between them.
"I didn't do it out of ambition," Luca continued, voice trembling now. "I did it because I was desperate. My brother, Marco, he owed money to dangerous people. They were going to kill him. I traded your secret for his life."
The confession hung heavy in the air.
Adrian's jaw clenched. He didn't speak, didn't blink.
"I thought Rinaldi only wanted to study your ability," Luca said. "He promised he wouldn't hurt you. I believed him."
Adrian turned his gaze aside. Inside, rage collided with pity, memories of their old partnership flashing behind his eyes. He wanted to hate him, but couldn't.
"You should have trusted me," Adrian finally said, his voice low but sharp. "We would've found another way."
Luca bowed his head, shame flooding his face.
"I know. But fear makes cowards of us all. I didn't think. I just… acted. And every day since, I've regretted it."
Adrian looked away again, staring at the floor as if trying to find an answer there. The pain didn't fade, but something else crept in, the faintest ember of the bond they once shared.
"You know what hurts most?" he whispered.
"That you didn't think I'd forgive you."
Luca lifted his head, eyes wet.
"I don't expect forgiveness. But I can promise you this…"
He leaned forward, voice deep and trembling.
"Clara's out there, and we're going to find her. Together. Like old times."
He managed a sad smile.
"We were the best, remember? No one could stop us. It won't make up for what I did, for what I cost you both… but if it's the last thing I ever do, I'll help you save her."
Adrian stared at him, silent for several long seconds. Then he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was a beginning.
"Then let's move," he said. "Every minute we waste, she gets further away."
Outside, the night stretched like an endless wound. The moon cast silver blades across the road.
Luca loaded the first aid kit into the car, his hands still stained with Adrian's blood.
Giulia stood in the doorway, pale and trembling, eyes full of fear but also something else, faith.
Adrian passed her, steady now despite the pain.
"We won't let her die," he said quietly.
"I promise."
And in that promise lived everything: the rage, the guilt, the fear, and that impossible love that burned like fire, the kind that destroys and saves all at once.