Chapter~52

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Alessandro's POV:

Something is definitely wrong. I signal my sons to keep silent as a visibly worried Nicolo guides Vanessa upstairs. The tension in the room is almost tangible, thickening the air with unspoken fears and anxieties.

"Are you just going to let them be?" Angelo asks, a deep frown creasing his forehead, his voice edged with concern.

"If that's what they want, then no one will say anything to them," I reply firmly, my no-nonsense tone brooking no argument. The weight of authority in my voice makes it clear that this is not up for debate.

"Let's wait and see if they tell us once they come back," Dante suggests, his voice a rare beacon of reason amidst the worry. In this household, he often feels like the only other adult aside from me. The others have a tendency to let their emotions cloud their judgment, which is something I cannot afford.

"I feel like something bad is going to happen. My left eye is twitching," Armano whispers, his expression uneasy. His superstitions often get the better of him, but there's genuine worry etched in his features this time.

"Don't jinx it, you idiot," Lorenzo snaps, swatting the back of Armano's head with a mix of irritation and brotherly affection.

"How did I manage to raise such superstitious dumb and dumber?" I shake my head in disappointment, though there's a trace of fondness in my voice. Despite their flaws, they are still my sons.

"Simple, by not raising them," Vincenzo interjects, taking a jab at the fact that he was the one who actually raised the boys. His tone is light, but there's an undercurrent of truth that hits home.

"Touché, son," I respond, a rare smirk tugging at my lips, acknowledging his point.

We sit in silence for a few moments, the tension in the room palpable. Each of us is lost in our thoughts, the worry gnawing at us like a relentless beast. I know my sons are just as concerned as I am, but there's nothing we can do until Nicolo and Vanessa decide to share what's troubling them. I can only hope it's not as bad as my gut is telling me.

"Maybe we should prepare for the worst, just in case," Dante suggests cautiously, breaking the silence.

"I agree," Angelo adds, his frown deepening. "We need to be ready for whatever is coming."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," I say, though my mind is already racing through various scenarios. "But it wouldn't hurt to stay alert."

As the minutes tick by, the atmosphere in the room grows increasingly oppressive. The air feels thick, laden with unspoken anxieties and the weight of anticipation. Occasionally, the tense silence is pierced by the echo of footsteps or the faint murmur of hushed conversations, yet the underlying tension remains unbroken. We are all on edge, collectively holding our breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Eventually, the sound of deliberate footsteps descending the creaky staircase captures our attention. Nicolo appears first, his expression solemn and unreadable, a silent harbinger of bad news. Close behind him, Vanessa emerges, her face a mask of determination, though she looks unnaturally pale under the dim light.

"Is everything alright, kids?" I ask, my voice betraying my worry as it breaks the uneasy quiet.

Vanessa doesn't spare me a glance or a word in response. She moves with a sense of purpose, her steps directed towards the front door, every inch of her body radiating an unyielding resolve.

"Vanessa, dad asked you something," Angelo interjects loudly, frustration and concern mingling in his tone. "At least tell us where you're going."

Vanessa halts abruptly, taking a deep breath. Her eyes lock onto mine with a steely resolve, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade into the background. "I have a situation," she states, her voice firm and unyielding, her features betraying no emotion. "And it's something I need to deal with immediately."

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