Amelia POV
Liam (abruptly standing up) : Wait. Wait. Wait. Hold on.
Katherine : Just tell me once again. YOU were the one who did that? Like seriously? YOU?!
Ryan (Folding his hands) : I. Need. Proof. Or else I won't believe.
Andrew : I can accept that Daisy loves me. But I can't accept Amelia doing this.
Daisy (practically about to pounce on Andrew) : Are you out of your mind, Andrew? You're literally one step closer to death.
Sarah (leaning in closer and whispering) : Did you really do that, Amy?
I looked at her with a little smile on my lips and nodded.
All these idiots at once, causing chaos shouted at top of their voices, "Answer us, Amelia."
"Uhhhhhh. Stop it. Yes, I REALLY DID IT. Y'all can ask Justin. He saw those marbles on the floor."
Justin (deadpanned) : I am here only to eat the red sauce pasta.
These six idiots looked at each other's faces like a team of FBI agents carefully calculating their next step in an imaginary crime investigation. They slightly nodded their heads all at once and looked at me with a light playful smile.
Ryan got up and answered, "I'll go and get the pasta ready."
Andrew, always the mischief-maker, also got up. "I'll go and...help him, haha."
Daisy, out of nowhere, spoke up.
"Funny how you call it 'helping' when everyone calls it 'ruining things professionally'."
Andrew turned back, grinning and unfazed.
"And yet, here you are-professionally obsessed with me. Must be exhausting."
Okay so we are having this again (arggghhhh!!!)
"Please. I've had pimples that lasted longer than my patience for you."
"Still thinking about me, huh? Even your insults sound like love letters."
"Don't flatter yourself. If I wrote you a love letter, it'd be titled 'Reasons I'm Glad You're Not Around."
"Aww, babe. You think about me when I'm not around? That's basically romance."
No way they're talking about love in this moment! Okay time to stop them, actually.
"I swear, if I hear one more verbal slap, both of you will be thrown out-with the pasta."
I deadpanned staring intensely right into their souls.
Daisy (muttering) : He started it.
Andrew (smirking) : I was just being helpful.
Gosh, Andrew! You're such a headache. I rolled my eyes harder.
"Helpful? Like this?"
Justin stepped in right away, slightly leaning back on his couch.
"To the kitchen, Andrew. Ryan needs help."
Justin POV
It's no less than a blessing to have this kind of friendship circle. The right people. The right vibe. The support. The care. The understanding we have between each other. Everything is such a blessing.
Right now, it's all loud around me. Plates clink, someone's laughing too on what Daisy said, and the playlist on the speaker is stuck on some chaotic pop loop.
But none of it really registers. My ears are hearing it all, but my brain's too full. It's like there's this weight in my chest—not heavy, exactly, just... dense. Like everything that happened today is still settling inside me, bit by bit, and I haven't had the time to breathe it out.
I keep going back to that moment. The way Erin looked when Lia finally stood against her. Not scared. Not surprised. Just... shocked that someone she underestimated actually dared to rise.
Erin's been that kind of person her whole life–charming to the world, cruel in shadows. People like her don't expect consequences. Especially not from someone like Lia.
And maybe that's the part that's rattling me most.
Lia–quiet, soft-spoken, the one who'd rather disappear into a corner than cause a ripple—she did what even I couldn't. What I didn't.
That stings a little. Not because I wanted to be the hero. Not at all. But because I should've been there with her, when Erin pushed and mocked and broke Lia down under that fake, sweet voice of hers.
I know she could've taken it. I know Lia–she bears pain like it's some kind of duty.
But today, something snapped. Something roared. And I saw it in her eyes. The calm was gone. The storm took over.
And it wasn't chaos–it was justice. For her. For me. And they say it right - the silent ones are the most dangerous when their patience becomes thinner and the fire of anger takes over.
It wasn't a loud outburst. It wasn't some dramatic, movie-scene kind of confrontation. It was worse. She stood in front of Erin—calm, still, but there was something sharp in her eyes. Like a string had finally snapped inside her. Hell, she didn't even speak.
And the best part? She didn't do it just for herself.
That's the only part sitting in the pit of my stomach. She did it for me, too. For what Erin did to me. Not saying that she got her karma back; okay, that's undeniable. But she shouldn't have bullied Lia. All that she got today was only because of this.
I glance over at Lia again, like some instinct I can't fight. She's smiling—actually smiling, not just that polite curve of her lips she gives when she's tired of people asking if she's okay.
Her whole face is lit up, and the air around her feels lighter than it ever has before. Like she shed something heavy and walked out from under it.
She's sitting right across from me, her plate a complete mess, laughing like she has the whole damn sky in her lungs. And I can't stop looking at her.
The way she chews - mouth full, yet still weirdly adorable. The way she wipes her hands on that crumpled tissue, failing to get the sauce off her fingers. God, how is she like this?
Unbothered. Unfiltered. Unapologetically real.
And somehow, she smiles like nothing happened.
I glance at her again.
She's biting her spoon, trying not to laugh at Katherine and Daisy's antics. Her eyes crinkle at the corners. That wild little curl escapes her ponytail again, and as always, she tucks it behind her ear like she's done it a million times before.
She doesn't know I'm watching.
"Careful, Romeo," Liam whispers, bumping my arm, smirking like he's caught me in some crime. "You're staring like you're about to write her a damn poem."
I blink. My eyes must have wandered to her again.
I force a breath and roll my eyes. "Shut up."
He doesn't push. Good. I'm not in the mood to fake-smile through it.
I lean back in my seat, arms crossed, my gaze back on my barely-touched plate.
Lia did something brave today. Brave and necessary.
I don't know what today changed, exactly. Maybe nothing. Or maybe... everything.
But as I sit here, watching her laugh like she didn't just shake the ground beneath someone who deserved it, I realize something-
Lia never needed saving.
She was the storm herself.
And maybe I'm not meant to fix anything. Maybe I'm just meant to finally see her clearly... and start fixing the parts of me that stayed silent for too long.
💘
(Somewhere in Italy)
Author POV
Beneath the muted golden lights of an old stone bridge stretching across a sleepy Venetian canal, two shadows stood still. Tourists were gone. Locals were asleep. Only the water moved, quietly lapping against the worn foundation, carrying secrets beneath its surface.
The man lit a cigarette with fingers too steady for someone carrying decades of blood on them. He didn't look at the woman beside him, but she stood straight, eyes ahead, arms behind her back like a soldier awaiting orders.
"You were supposed to finish them both," he said finally, his voice barely above the night's silence. "The father was dealt with. But the son?"
"I missed the window," she replied, calm, clinical. "Too many variables. I couldn't risk exposure."
He exhaled smoke slowly. "That 'variable' is now our biggest threat."
She didn't respond.
"He's been asking questions," the man continued. "Making noise in places I thought were buried. He's not just sniffing around anymore–he's digging into everything, including that night. And he's close to things that could ruin years of work."
"I didn't expect him to survive, let alone grow into something worth fearing."
"Well," the man said, flicking ash into the canal, "that's the thing about sons. You leave one loose end, he wraps it around your throat."
She turned her head slightly, eyes sharp under the glow of the bridge light. "Do you want it done?"
He finally looked at her. "Not want. Need. He carries his father's name, his silence, his fire. If he lives long enough, he'll burn through everything we built."
She nodded once. "I'll handle it."
"Quietly," he added. "No mistakes this time. If he disappears now, it'll look like a vendetta. We don't need noise. We need a shadow."
The woman's lips curved, just faintly. "I've killed louder names than his in quieter ways."
He studied her for a moment, then gave a slow nod, flicking the last of his cigarette into the water.
"Good," he murmured. "Because the next time he slips through... it won't be you I send."
Their footsteps echoed across the ancient bridge as they walked away in opposite directions—two shadows fading into the Italian night, with death trailing silently behind.
Writing this chapter, honestly, felt like standing between two worlds-
One filled with chaos, laughter, healing, and messy plates of friendship...
And the other, drenched in smoke, secrets, and unfinished blood.
Justin doesn't know it yet, but while he's watching Lia's smile-someone else is already watching him.
Please vote and comment if you liked this chapter. The next chapter will be updated soon. Take care, cuties 💙
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