(ANGELO'S POV)
Raffaele's chest is still heaving when I pin him against the wall, my forearm pressed across his collarbone, my body blocking his path back to Valentino. The room is a wreck of overturned furniture, broken glass, and the kind of silence that feels like it's holding its breath.
I force myself to look away from Rafa and turn toward our younger brother.
Val is slumped in that chair like a rag doll, still tied up. His face… God. His face doesn't even look like his anymore. One eye's swollen shut, there's blood coming out of his nose, he has a busted lip dripping blood into the open collar of his shirt. There are gashes and bruises blooming across his cheekbones and jaw.
And he's not moving.
A cold shot of fear punches through me so hard I forget to breathe.
I turn back to face Raffaele. My voice comes out harsh. "What the fuck are you doing?"
