The house had grown quieter.
Not peaceful.
Just quieter.
The kind of quiet that settles after a storm has passed through and everyone inside is still waiting for the roof to collapse.
Vincenzo lay on the middle of his bed while the doctor finished wrapping the bandage around his leg.
The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and old books.
The personal physician—Doctor Rikodo—worked quickly, but his hands betrayed him. Every few seconds they trembled slightly before he forced them still again.
He had been the Moretti family doctor for years.
He had this family from cold to bruises.
He also had treated vincezo before.
But tonight was different.
Tonight he had watched the news before arriving.
He had seen the same footage the entire world was watching.
The explosion.
The police station collapsing in fire.
And Vincenzo Moretti standing calmly in front of it.
Even now, as he knelt beside Vincenzo finishing the bandage, the doctor's breathing remained shallow.
His fear returned more then his first day of job.
"You were fortunate," he said quietly, forcing his voice into professional calm.
"The wound is superficial. The rock cut through the muscle slightly, but it missed anything vital."
He tightened the final layer of gauze carefully.
"You'll limp for a few days, perhaps a week. But it will heal."
Vincenzo didn't respond.
He simply looked down at the floor while the doctor worked.
Around the room stood the others.
Luca leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed over his chest. His usual confidence had been replaced by something quieter tonight. Every so often his gaze drifted toward Vincenzo's injured leg.
Enzho stood beside the bookshelf, shoulders tense.
Nick paced slowly near the window, unable to remain still.
Antonio stood closest to Vincenzo, hands shoved in his pockets, watching the doctor like a guard watching a prisoner.
Cathy remained seated beside Vincenzo on bed, elbows on his bedrest, eyes fixed on the bandage as if memorizing every movement.
The doctor finished tying the gauze and slowly rose to his feet.
"There," he said.
His voice was steadier now.
"You should rest the leg tonight. Avoid putting pressure on it if possible."
He hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Then he added quietly,
"Given… everything that happened today, I would recommend full rest."
The words were carefully chosen.
He didn't say explosion.
He didn't say police station.
He didn't say terrorism.
Everyone in the room already knew.
Doctor Rikado gathered his tools slowly, packing them back into the leather medical bag.
When he looked up again, his eyes met Vincenzo's briefly.
There was fear there.
But also awe.
The same awe the entire Morrettis now carried.
What kind of man stands in front of an explosion without moving?
Vincenzo finally spoke.
"Have someone drive you home."
His voice was calm, almost distant.
"Tonight is not safe for anyone outside."
The doctor nodded quickly.
"Yes… yes of course."
He moved toward the door, almost eager to leave the room now that his job was finished.
Luca stepped forward immediately and opened the door.
"I'll have a driver ready."
Doctor Rikodo bowed his head slightly and left without another word.
The door closed softly behind him.
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
Then Vincenzo leaned back in the chair slightly and exhaled.
"You should all go."
His voice remained calm.
"Get some rest."
Nick stopped pacing immediately.
"Big brother—"
"I'm fine."
The words were quiet but firm.
Antonio hesitated slightly but didn't argue.
Enzho pushed himself off the wall slowly.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Vincenzo didn't look up.
"I just want to rest."
Luca studied him for another moment before finally nodding.
"Alright."
Cathy was the last to stand.
She hesitated longer than the others.
Her eyes searched his face as if trying to read something behind that familiar blank expression.
But Vincenzo had already turned his gaze toward the desk.
After a moment, she sighed softly and followed the others toward the door.
They stepped into the hallway together.
The moment the door closed behind them, the atmosphere changed.
The tension inside the room followed them out.
The doctor didn't stop, he walked too fast even ingnoring clara but she didn't stop him.
Clara was already waiting, unable to go inside after what had happened.
She had been pacing near the staircase, unable to sit still while the doctor treated her son.
The moment the door opened she rushed forward.
"How is he?"
Her voice was sharp with worry.
"Is he badly hurt?"
Cathy shook her head first.
"It's just a cut."
"The rock hit his leg, that's all."
Clara visibly sagged in relief.
"Oh thank God…"
Isabella stood beside her, arms folded tightly across her chest.
She didn't rush forward the way Clara had.
But her eyes searched the group just as carefully.
"He's really alright?" she asked.
Luca nodded.
"The doctor said it's minor."
"Nothing serious."
Isabella closed her eyes briefly.
Her anger from earlier had already softened, she even felt guilty for saying those words to him.
Lucia peeked from behind the corner of the hallway.
Her face full of guilt from crying realising she said too much today wishing to apologise but she couldn't after all that.
She had been hiding there for several minutes, listening.
When she heard that Vincenzo wasn't seriously injured, her shoulders relaxed slightly.
She quickly wiped her face and pretended she hadn't been crying.
Antonio noticed her immediately but said nothing.
Nick leaned casually against the wall.
"Just a scratch," he said.
"But you should've seen the crowd earlier."
Clara shot him a warning look.
"Not tonight."
Nick shrugged and fell silent.
The house slowly began to settle again.
Clara turned toward the staircase.
"Everyone should get some sleep."
Her voice was tired now.
"Tomorrow will be worse."
One by one the family began drifting toward their rooms.
But the tension from earlier hadn't vanished.
It simply followed them quietly through the halls.
Upstairs, Luca and Enzho walked down the west corridor together.
When they entered their parents' sitting room, Rafael and Anna were still awake.
They had been waiting.
Rafael stood the moment they entered.
"How is he?"
"He is Fine, father, " Luca answered.
"Just a leg injury."
Anna exhaled in relief.
"Good."
Luca looked around and saw Mia sleeping without any care.
First time after all this situation he smiled little.
After smiling he noticed Klein wasn't here.
"Where is Klein?
Rafael sighed.
"We sent him back to his college"
"His tests are coming he needs to focus"
Anna lowered her head.
"But i don't think he can, not after what happened"
The room remained quiet.
Everyone remembered what had happened.
what words were spoken earlier.
Across the hall, in another wing of the mansion, Marco and Elena waited in their own sitting room.
Nick along with Enzho entered.
Elena immediately stood.
"Is he alright?"
Enzho nodded.
"Yeah."
"Just a cut."
Marco rubbed his temples slowly.
"That's good."
"We had already sent frank because his tests are coming up"
Elena looked at the door expecting someone.
"Where is Cathy?"
"She said she will be coming later"
Enzho said tiredly.
Nick shrugged
Elena sighed.
"This girl doesn't realise how much danger she put on herself today"
Marco supported her by shoulder.
"Don't worry we are still here, Vincezho is still here"
"We won't let her be harmed"
Elena just nodded, already exhausted from what had happened earlier.
But even as they spoke, the television continued replaying the explosion downstairs.
No one turned it off.
Meanwhile, Lucia slipped quietly back toward her bedroom, pretending she had never been in the hallway at all.
Cathy paused outside Vincenzo's door for a moment.
Her hand hovered near the handle.
But she didn't go back inside.
After a moment she turned away and walked toward her room instead.
Inside the study, Vincenzo was finally alone.
The silence returned.
He sat there without moving for a long time.
The house around him slowly quieted as doors closed and footsteps faded.
Only the distant hum of the television downstairs remained.
Vincenzo leaned forward slightly.
For the first time since the explosion, his expression changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
His shoulders lowered slowly.
His breathing grew heavier.
The words from earlier replayed in his mind.
"They're calling it terrorism."
"You knew."
"You did this."
"You always know."
"You're untouchable."
"You've become something worse."
Each sentence echoed again and again.
Vincenzo closed his eyes.
A quiet breath escaped his chest.
"I'm innocent," he whispered.
No one heard it.
The words sounded almost childish in the empty room.
"I didn't do it."
His hands tightened slowly against the desk.
The image of the explosion flashed again in his mind.
The sound.
The fire.
The screams.
He had been standing there when it happened.
And now the entire world believed it was his doing.
His voice broke slightly.
"I'm innocent…"
But he already knew the truth.
No one would believe him.
Not the police.
Not the government.
Not the public.
And even his own family…
He had hoped that even one would ask that if he did it but no one.
They had already accepted the story.
Vincenzo lowered his head slowly.
For several minutes he sat there in complete silence.
Then, quietly, he began to cry.
No sound.
No movement.
Just tears falling silently onto the wooden desk.
The weight of everything pressed down on him all at once.
The accusations.
The fear in his mother's eyes.
Isabella's voice.
Lucia's resentment.
The way the world now looked at him.
A monster.
A mastermind.
A devil.
And he couldn't explain any of it.
Because even if he tried…
No one would listen.
Eventually exhaustion caught up with him.
The day had been too long.
Too heavy.
Still sitting in the chair, head resting against his folded arms on the desk, Vincenzo slowly drifted into sleep.
The house remained quiet around him.
Outside, sirens continued echoing across the city.
And somewhere far away, television networks continued replaying the same footage.
The man who stood calmly while the police station exploded behind him.
The man the world had already begun to fear.
The man who was sleeping alone in a silent room.
Still whispering the same words no one would ever hear.
"I'm innocent."