~~NICCOLÒ~~ The road looked blurry in the headlights. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. The Mercedes kept going for miles with no clear destination. I'd left the house in a race without telling anyone where I was headed.. Not because I was lost, but because I couldn’t settle on a single direction that made sense. I knew I needed to confront Ortega face to face, but that was probably the whole play. This recent move of a false tooth and a direct attack on Lena seemed uncharacteristic of him and, quite frankly, too smart. He was always known for brute force. I wanted to respond in kind. And although I'd countered Isabella when she'd proposed thinking things through, deep down I knew she was correct: Confronting Ortega, and worse doing it alone, was exactly what he, and/or whoever had conceived this idea, would want. Lena’s face kept flashing behind my eyes, shaken on the grass after the garden breach, asking for me while Yuki’s blood stained the lawn. K
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