Chapter 43: We are nothing

Third POV

For several minutes, neither man spoke. Marco kept glancing toward Fabio’s shoulder from time to time. The wound was still bleeding, and every time he saw the blood, his grip on the steering wheel tightened. His brows remained knitted together as he tried to focus on the road.

Finally, he broke the long silence. "Is there a hospital nearby?"

Fabio looked at him briefly. "We cannot go to a hospital."

Marco’s jaw tightened, but he did not argue. He continued driving.

Instead of heading directly toward his apartment, Marco made several turns around town. He changed roads repeatedly, checking the mirrors and watching for any vehicle that might have followed them. Only after he was satisfied that they had lost anyone who might have been tracking them did he finally drive toward his apartment.

He parked inside the building’s parking lot and immediately got out. Marco went around to Fabio’s side and supported him as they entered the lift.

Silence settled between them again. Even when they reached the apartment door, neither said anything. Marco unlocked it and led Fabio inside before switching on the lights. He helped Fabio toward the sofa and carefully removed his shirt.

"Lie down."

Fabio complied without a word. Marco cleaned the wound as carefully as he could before preparing the tools. After a few minutes, he picked up a scalpel and positioned himself beside Fabio. He looked at the wound, then at the scalpel in his hand.

His fingers stopped moving.

After a few seconds, Marco lowered his hand and placed the scalpel on the table.

Still without a word, he turned around and walked toward Orso’s room.

He knocked at the door.

Less than half a minute later, the door opened and Orso stepped out.

"I need help with something," Marco said.

Orso nodded almost instnatly without thought.

Marco had already started walking back toward the living room, and Orso followed him without asking any questions.

The moment Orso saw Fabio lying on the sofa, his eyes immediately moved to the wound. His expression changed, and he looked at Marco questioningly.

Marco understood the question. He shook his head.

Orso said nothing. He simply walked toward the sofa and knelt beside Fabio.

After disinfecting his hands, Orso picked up the scalpel. He worked quickly and carefully, almost as if he had done this countless times. He removed the bullet before cleaning the wound and dressing it properly. Fabio did not make a sound throughout the entire process. He remained still, his expression calm, as though getting shot too was nothing more than another inconvenience he had learned to live with.

Once Orso finished, Marco helped him clean everything. The blood was wiped away, the used materials were disposed of, and the bullet was taken care of. Within a short time, there was barely any evidence left of what had happened.

Orso was ready to return to his room when Marco called out.

"Orso."

He stopped and looked back.

Marco hesitated before speaking. "If you do not mind, can Elia stay with you in your room for a few days?"

Orso remained silent for a moment before giving a small nod. "Okay."

"Thank you, for everything."

Orso nodded again. "It’s fine. I’m always here if you need anything. "

With that, he returned to his room.

Marco stood in the living room for a moment before looking toward Fabio. Fabio was sitting up now, watching him. Their eyes met, but Marco held the gaze for only a few seconds before turning away.

He walked into his and Elia’s room. A short while later, Marco returned carrying a sleeping Elia in his arms. The boy was completely unaware that his most hatefull brother was currently carrying him in his arms or else the world would have ended. Marco carefully carried him into Orso’s room and laid him down on the bed.

Before leaving, he looked toward Orso and mouthed another silent thank you.

Then he returned to the living room. Fabio was still sitting on the sofa. Marco stopped in front of him.

"Come with me."

Fabio stood without saying anything and followed him. They entered the bedroom, and Marco walked toward the bed.

"It is three in the morning. Sleep."

Fabio nodded, but he remained seated at the edge of the bed, unmoving. Marco climbed beneath the covers and looked at him. Fabio made no attempt to move, and the silence between them slowly became heavier.

Eventually, Fabio spoke. "I am sorry I almost got you killed."

Marco narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Mm."

Fabio kept looking at him.

"Are you mad at me?"

Marco remained silent, but his jaw tightened.

Fabio lowered his gaze for a moment before looking back at him.

"If I had known something like that would happen, I would not have..."

"I am mad at you because you took a fucking bullet for me."

Marco’s voice was sharp, but it carried a slight tremble that betrayed the anger underneath it.

"What if it hit your head instead? You would have bloody died, you know that."

Fabio swallowed. "I did not want you getting hurt because of..."

"Why?" Marco interrupted him, as his eyes remained fixed on Fabio. "It is not like we are family or anything. You do this for your people, your blood, your family, not for someone you sleep around with just for fun. Get this straight, you do not get to protect me like that."

Fabio said nothing. Marco’s breathing had become faster, and his voice had grown rougher with every word.

"We are simply nothing... other than sex partners."

The words settled heavily between them.

Marco turned away from him and pulled the covers over his body, clearly intending to end the conversation. Fabio remained seated on the edge of the bed for another full minute, staring down at him.

His fist slowly clenched. Eventually, Fabio lay down as well and pulled the covers over himself. He turned toward the opposite side, leaving a space between them.

The room became quiet as neither of them spoke again.

Neither of them slept.

Because no matter how hard they tried to close their eyes, Marco’s words remained between them.

We are simply nothing.