Bound by my blood

Bonus chapter two- Angelo

"Harder, Caruso!" I shout from my balcony, echoing down to the street below. The sun hangs low, casting long shadows over the pavement, where I can see him—Caruso, drenched in sweat, pushing himself to his limits. I think of the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They swirl in my mind, a tumultuous reminder of what I've been told—each stage a haunting echo of emotion, battling for prominence in this chaotic moment.

It's been over a year since I watched Jax get shot, and I find myself grappling with my place in the emotional spectrum lately. I've come to terms with the fact that he is no longer in my life, yet the mere thought sends waves of frustration crashing over me, leaving me feeling isolated and despondent as if I long to curl up in a ball and vanish from reality. Jax and I never officially entered a relationship, but the sense of loss is palpable; it feels as though I've been robbed of a future filled with possibilities that could have blossomed between us.

"You've done a wonderful job with them all," a gentle voice calls out from the direction of the sliding glass doors. I turn to see Alexa standing there, her eyes sparkling with warmth. Even in her heels, she still slightly gazes up at me, a hint of mischief in her expression.

Her hair is meticulously twisted into a sophisticated bun, accentuating the graceful lines of her neck. She's donned a striking ensemble; a fitted black, white, and yellow pencil skirt that hugs her curves and a matching black turtleneck that complements her radiant complexion perfectly.

"You look absolutely stunning," I say, forcing a smile, though it's genuine; her beauty is hard to ignore. "Where are you headed?"

A smile spreads across her face as she leans against the railing beside me, her posture relaxed yet somehow poised.

"Please tell me you didn't forget?" she says, feigning exasperation, though the lightness in her tone softens the blow. "We had lunch plans because I'm leaving for Verona tonight."

I instinctively rub the back of my head, a sheepish gesture of regret. The truth is, I've been so caught up in my own world, it completely slipped my mind.

"I'm really sorry, Lexi. It honestly slipped my mind. What time is your reservation?" I ask, hoping to make it up to her.

"It's in an hour," she replies, a heavy sigh escaping her lips as she shakes her head in disappointment. My heart sinks; I hate to see her upset, especially when she has made such an effort to look so radiant.

"I can make it in time. I promise I'll be there," I assure her, but I can see the question hanging in the air—her eyebrows raise in disbelief. "Will you really be there?"

Just then, my attention drifts back to the training session, where Vince's voice booms across the field, berating someone for slacking off. The contrast between the chaos of the training and the calm anticipation of the lunch date strikes me, reminding me of the juggling act I seem to always perform between my commitments.

Even though Vince had stepped down from his role in the family businesses three months ago, his presence still loomed large in the minds of those who remained. His former colleagues continued to seek his counsel, as if he were still at the helm. I often found myself wishing he would reclaim his position; after stepping into his shoes, I've gained a profound appreciation for the weight of his responsibilities. The sheer volume of paperwork he managed and the tedious, often pretentious discussions he navigated daily astounded me. It's little wonder he often appeared so irritable and tense, particularly before Lexi brought light into his life.

In addition to reflecting on Vince's legacy, I've taken on the immense responsibility of overseeing the training of our new recruits. With each session, I strive to instill in them the values that Vince embodied, hoping to honor his contributions while preparing the next generation for the challenges ahead.After Vince killed his father, the traitors panicked.