Highschool

THIRD PERSON

Luke hesitated, still shaken by the events of the night. His steps were heavy, his mind a jumble of confusion and fear. He had known things would get messy, but this—this was beyond his expectations. The weight of her brothers' eyes on him, the ever-present threat of those dogs... it felt like a trap slowly closing in.

Josephine led him down the hallway, her movements careful, deliberate. Luke couldn't help but notice the subtle wince in her step. He knew she was still hurting from the earlier attack, but she was doing her best to hide it. The tension between them thickened by the silence and the oppressive atmosphere. Was it the fear from the night before, or the weight of her brothers' warning that still lingered in the air?

The dogs followed close behind, their presence an unspoken reminder of how dangerous things had become. Their paws padded softly on the floor, a rhythmic echo that kept Luke on edge. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, trying to shake the feeling that they were always just a half-step away from being in his face. The dogs' eyes gleamed in the darkness, their movements synchronized in a way that was almost unsettling. He knew they weren't just animals; they were weapons—trained, bred for one purpose. They were as much a part of the Marini family's protection as any weapon or bodyguard.

Josephine must have sensed his unease, for she leaned slightly toward him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't worry. They won't hurt you unless you give them a reason. Just... keep your distance. Let's get you something to wear first."

Luke nodded, his throat tight. Her words helped a little, but the dogs' cold, calculating stare gnawed at him. The house felt like it was swallowing him whole—its vastness, its quiet menace. He thought of Domenico's warning and had no illusions about how far these people would go to protect their own. One wrong move, and the dogs would be the least of his problems.

When they finally reached her room, Josephine opened the door with a quiet sigh. She stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter first. "Come on in."

Luke hesitated on the threshold, scanning the dimly lit room. It was cozy in a way, nothing extravagant, but personal. A mattress neatly made on the floor, a few scattered books on the desk, thousand plants spilling over every surface. A large window with the curtains drawn halfway. It felt like a glimpse into Josephine's life—her world, a world he didn't fully understand. Josephine stood in the doorway, watching him silently. After a moment, she stepped into her closet to find something for him to wear.

He used the time to look at the photos on her wall. Most of them were of her brothers, but there were also some of her as a child, presumably with her late parents. He grinned when he saw a picture of her being carried piggyback by Valentino—at least he assumed it was him, based on the build—and she was looking back at the camera, laughing. She had a beautiful laugh, he thought. Then he looked further. "Oh, so you're cotton candy? We'd already asked ourselfs who that was in the picture with Matteo."

Josephine stepped back into the room, following his line of sight. "Cotton candy?" she asked, confusion in her voice.

"Yeah," Luke said with a slight grin, "because instead of your face, there's just... okay, never mind, it sounds really lame." He shifted uncomfortably, but then asked, "Where were you in that picture?"

"In Canada, with my godmother." Josephine handed him a blue sweater, her expression unreadable.

Luke's fingers tightened around the fabric. The sweater, small and simple, felt like more than just a piece of clothing—it felt like a lifeline, a tether in the chaos. "Thank you," he said smiling brightly. "I didn't think you'd keep it." He shook his head, forcing a chuckle. "I expected Riccardo would've burned it by now."

Josephine didn't look at him immediately. Her eyes flickered to the floor, as if searching for something hidden in the shadows. "He was close," she murmured, almost to herself.

Luke swallowed, taking a deep breath. He glanced at the sweater again, unsure of whether to put it on right away. But then he thought better of it. It might feel too forward, too intimate, in front of her. He tucked the sweater under his arm, nodding silently as Josephine stepped back. "Come on," she said, her voice softer now. "I'll show you to your room."

He followed her without a word, accepting the space she was offering him, even if it felt like he was walking deeper into their world, a world he wasn't sure he belonged in. "Alright," he replied. "Lead the way."

Josephine smiled faintly at him and spoke softly to the dogs, who immediately settled down at her command. He was impressed and decided to stay on her good side while being arounded with those dogs. She then moved toward the door of the room directly across the hall. "Do you need anything else? Ice? Painkillers?"

Luke shook his head, taking in the sparse room. "No, I'm good," he replied. He glanced at her once more, sensing some sort of distancing from her.

"Okay," she said quietly. "If anything comes up, just let me know. Sleep well, Luke."

Her words were meant to comfort, but Luke couldn't help but feel the tension between them. "You too, Josephine."

Hours later, Luke lay awake in the dark, his mind running on overdrive. The house was silent—too silent. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind against the windows felt amplified, as if the walls themselves were watching him. And then there were the footsteps.

Soft, measured steps, pacing down the hallway outside his door. At first, he thought it might be Josephine, maybe restless like him, but then there were heavy. Too deliberate. Then came the creak of a door, followed by silence. The sound of Josephine's door opening—then closing again. Luke's pulse quickened. What was happening? Was someone in trouble? Or was he simply being paranoid, wrapped up in the tension of the house? Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he gave up on sleep, staring at the ceiling, wishing for the night to end, while every now and than another footstep appeared and doors were open and closed.

Morning came slowly, light filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. Luke groaned, still feeling the weight of the sleepless night in his bones and pain in his face, streching from his nose to his ears. He cleaned his face once more, since his nose bleed again and left his room.

The house was eerily quiet as he descended the stairs. The faint sound of voices drifted toward him from the dining room. He paused at the door, listening for a moment. Inside, Valentino sat with his face in his hands, clearly tired, while Domenico and Vito spoke in low, tense tones with Josephine. When Luke entered, all conversation stopped.

He inhaled deeply, feeling the cold weight of their eyes on him. It felt like a formal greeting was expected, even if no one had said as much. Luke cleared his throat, his voice still rough from lack of sleep. "I realized I didn't really get a chance to properly introduce myself last night," he said, his eyes scanning the room. He forced himself to meet their gazes. "I'm Luke Hastings. Senior at Josephine's high school." He offered a small, self-conscious smile. "And Matteo's and Riccardo's, of course." He extended his hand.

"Please, call me Valentino," the tallest brother said smoothly. He took Luke's hand with a firm grip, his expression unreadable. A small, almost mocking grin appeared on his face. He seemed nice."It's a pleasure to have you here this morning."

Luke forced a smile, then extended his hand toward Domenico. The handshake was firm, but the pressure lingered longer than necessary, like Domenico was testing him. "Domenico. But I think we'll stick with Mr. Marini, right?"

"Of course," Luke replied, his tone polite but cool. Domenico's hand remained in his a moment longer, just enough to make Luke uncomfortable, before Josephine stepped in, prompting him to let go. He turned to Vito.

"I wish we'd met under different circumstances, Luke," Vito said smoothly, his tone genuine but cautious. "I want to thank you again for saving Josephine last night." He gestured to the seat across from Josephine. "Please, have a seat."

Luke hesitated but took the offered chair, his thoughts still swirling. "Well, if she hadn't used the pepper spray, we probably wouldn't be here," he said. "She deserves more credit than me."

Vito's gaze softened, and he nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you're right, but you still deserve some credit for your courage." he said with a small smile. "But still, we are grateful you were there."

Luke shifted in his seat, trying to read the others. It was clear they were sizing him up—assessing him, trying to figure out who he really was. Valentino, ever the one to break the tension, flashed a grin. "We'll have breakfast soon. You must be hungry?"

Luke nodded, trying to relax a little. "Yeah, I could use something to eat."

"Very good." Valentino clapped his hands together. "By the way, where are Matteo and Riccardo? Do they know breakfast is ready?" His tone was casual, but something about it sounded strange in Lukes ears.

Josephine's face paled, and she looked at Valentino with alarm. "Nino, no. Please don't," she begged, her voice tight with concern.

"Nonsense," Valentino dismissed her with a wave as he stood, heading toward the door. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

Luke exchanged a glance with Josephine, confused. But her sudden shift in demeanor, her anxiety, made him realize something was off. He knew Matteo and Riccardo didn't like him and Riccardo had made it very clear when he announced the whole public he didn't want his sister hanging around guys. But he hadn't realized how much that might affect Josephine."Vito, do something!" Josephine's voice was now desperate as she looked to her eldest brother, her expression a mix of worry and frustration.

"Oh no, Valentino, not that," Vito said, sounding not serious at all, as though he wasn't really invested. "Ah, such a shame, he didn't hear me."

Josephine glared at each of her brothers, before turning to Luke with a quick, apologetic look. "I'm sorry."

Luke winced at the sharp pain in his nose, but he shook his head, trying to reassure her. "No problem." Then he turned to Vito. "Mr. Marini," he began carefully, "is my family safe?"

Vito blinked, surprised. "Of course. We found those three last night, and they won't be a problem anymore."

Relief flooded Luke's chest. "Good," he muttered. "Then I'll head straight to the police station to make my statement."

Josephine kept her head down to look at her nails as Domenico rubbed his chin. Vito nodded slowly. "That won't be necessary," he began. "The three have already given a full confession. Due to the seriousness of their crimes, they've already been handed over to a special unit. If the police need anything else from you, they'll contact you directly."

Luke was surprised, but he couldn't deny the relief that washed over him. At least there was one thing he didn't have to worry about anymore. "That's great," he muttered, letting out a small breath of relief.

Domenico, still studying him with that cold, calculating gaze, shifted in his seat. "How's your nose, by the way?" His tone was like his gaze. "Do you need a doctor?"

Luke touched the side of his nose, wincing slightly. "Repositioned, I'd say. I don't think I need a doctor." He glanced at Josephine, who had been quiet during the exchange. "What about you, Josephine?"

Startled by the sudden attention, Josephine lifted her gaze to meet his. But the moment she did, a sharp pain flickered across her face, and she winced, trying to mask it with a forced smile. "I'm fine," she said quickly, though the discomfort was evident in her voice.

Vito's voice broke the moment of tension, his eyes softening as he looked at his sister. "Should I call Dr. Bradford, Josephine?"

Josephine shook her head firmly, her posture stiffening. "No, I'm fine. I don't need him and beside that its Saturday."

Luke shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't a doctor, but it was clear Josephine wasn't as fine as she claimed. "I think it might be a good idea to have a doctor take a look at you," he said, his voice gentle but insistent. "Just to be safe."

Josephine met his eyes for a moment, and Luke could see the flicker of frustration in her gaze. She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Dr. Bradford is my therapist," she muttered under her breath, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of further attention.

Luke's brows furrowed, surprised by her response. "A therapist?" he repeated, confusion evident in his voice. "Oh, I didn't know... sorry—uh, oh dear." He trailed off, realizing he might have just stepped into a sensitive subject.

Before Josephine could respond, Valentino's voice cut through the moment, warm and booming as he entered the room, a wide grin on his face. "The young ones are awake and excited to join us for breakfast," he announced, clearly in good spirits. He turned to Luke, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I even told them it's going to be a surprise!"

Luke blinked, momentarily distracted by Valentino's enthusiasm. The abrupt shift in mood was almost jarring after the brief tension with Josephine. "A surprise?" he echoed, feeling a mix of curiosity and wariness.

Valentino clapped him on the back, his grin never fading. "Of course! A little something to make the morning more interesting." He turned toward Josephine, his tone now even more lighter, almost playful. "Aren't you excited little sister of mine?"