𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
I never thought my world would crumble at the hands of a man like Alessandro Rossi-a 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 draped in silk suits and ruthlessness. One moment, I was Yasenia Fraga, daughter of the...
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Dark clouds hung heavy overhead. The air was heavy, the kind that pressed down on your chest, making it hard to breathe, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the rain would fall. We all stood there, frozen, watching as Billy's casket was lowered into the ground.
I stole a glance at Rachel, Billy's wife. She looked utterly wrecked, like her entire world had just collapsed in on her. Her face was pale, eyes swollen from crying, and she clung to their son—Anthony, no more than seven—trying to keep it together for his sake. But it didn't look like she could. Her sobs came in waves, each one more heartbreaking than the last. Anthony, poor kid, had no idea what was happening. His small face was red and streaked with tears, lost and confused. He didn't understand. How could he? He'd never understand why his dad wasn't coming back.
Alessandro stood next to me, his face unreadable, his jaw was clenched and his hands balled into fists by his sides—the only signs that he was feeling anything at all. But I knew him too well. I could see the way his body was rigid, holding himself together by the thinnest thread. I could feel the guilt pouring off him, like it was going to swallow him whole. He blamed himself. I didn't even have to ask—of course he did. Billy wasn't supposed to be involved. Alessandro had dragged him into his own vendetta, into the madness of his world.
And now Billy was gone.
The funeral went by in a blur. The folded flag was handed to Rachel. Her hands were shaking so badly as she took it, clutching it like it was the only piece of Billy she had left. Everyone was crying. Everyone was broken.
Everyone except Alessandro.
He kept that same stoic face, the same cold mask he always wore when things got too real, when he was feeling too much. But I knew. God, I knew he was falling apart inside, but he just wouldn't let anyone see it. But every time his eyes flicked over to the grave, I saw it. I saw the agony, the guilt that were ripping him to shreds. He stood there, unmoving, staring at the grave like he was begging for some way to take it all back. Like if he stared long enough, maybe Billy wouldn't be gone after all. But nothing changed. Nothing ever does.
When the ceremony ended, people started leaving one by one. I stayed close by Alessandro, watching as his grip on reality seemed to slip further and further away. I wanted to reach out, take his hand, tell him it wasn't his fault, but I knew he wouldn't hear me. The rain had started to drizzle, just a light mist, enough to soak through our clothes if we stayed too long. But Alessandro still didn't move. He just stayed there, staring at Billy's grave, his gaze locked in place as if he was waiting for Billy to come back, for this to somehow not be real.
I stayed beside him in silence, watching him unravel in his own quiet way. His face was blank, but his eyes were far away, as though lost in some private conversation with the ghost of his friend. His lips barely moved, like he was whispering to Billy, begging for forgiveness he'd never get. The rain grew heavier, colder, but Alessandro remained where he was, rooted in front of the grave like he could somehow force it to give Billy back.
