My hand flew instinctively to my forehead, fingers trembling as they brushed against something wet.
Sticky.
Warm.
I pulled my hand back and stared at it.
Blood.
"What the hell—" My voice came out unsteady, barely audible.
"Nice shot, Matteo!" Nico's voice rang out, loud and gleeful.
I blinked, my vision struggling to focus as dizziness washed over me in waves.
When the blur cleared, I saw them.
All six of them.
Standing in a straight line like they had planned it. Like this was a performance.
Gianna. Matteo. Nico. Lucia. Rocco. Alessia.
My babies.
At least… that's what I had always believed.
But the way they looked at me now—
Cold. Mocking. Disgusted.
It was as if I was nothing.
No… worse than nothing.
Like I was something beneath them. Something they had stepped in and couldn't wait to scrape off their shoes.
"What did you throw at me?" I croaked, struggling to stay upright as the room tilted around me.
"A rock," Rocco said with a smirk, completely unapologetic. "Next time, maybe we'll aim lower."