HIS

Chapter 51

For a few moments, the world fades away, leaving just the two of us in the vast, sterile white room. I take in his presence, every detail of him anchoring me in the moment.

I step away from the doorway and move slowly toward Domenico's bedside, my eyes catching the chair placed beside him. He looks peaceful, as if merely asleep—but the tube down his throat is a stark reminder of the gravity of his condition.

The steady beeping of the machines is all the reassurance I need—for now, it means he's still here. And that's enough. I haven't lost him. The sound also makes me realize just how deeply I've missed him, even though it's only been a day since we last saw each other.

I wish we were somewhere else—somewhere quiet and familiar—where he was simply resting and I could watch over him like I always did. But this time, things are different.
Still, I find comfort in the hope I carry—for his recovery, for the days ahead. Sometimes, hope is all we have. And often, it's all we need.

I love him more than words can express, and without him, this world feels meaningless. That's why I'll make sure it all makes sense—once I've dealt with every traitor hiding in the shadows of this Mafia.

Domenico placed his trust in too many of the wrong people, and they exploited it. They've played their games long enough—now it's time they learn exactly who they've been messing with.

He's stood by me in every way imaginable and seeing him like this—someone I love deeply, who's given me all his love—is unbearable. Whoever had the audacity to turn against him didn't just betray him... they betrayed me too.

The doctor assured me he'll recover, and deep down, I believe it too. But there's a lingering unease I can't shake—a quiet voice in the back of my mind reminding me that this chapter isn't closed yet. There are still trials ahead, and we're not out of the storm.

I tend to overthink and dissect every detail until I find a solution that quiets the storm in my mind. It's not the easiest trait to live with, I know—but my instincts have never led me astray. So I'll stay alert and prepare for whatever lies ahead.

I lift my uninjured arm and gently run my fingers through his dark brown hair, now unruly from the past few days—each stroke a silent wish for his healing.
I've endured a life without love and still found space for something real at the end of it all. That strength carried me this far. Now, I need to summon it again—to steady my mind and prepare for whatever lies ahead.

After an hour of tears and replaying every moment in my mind, things begin to feel clearer. I steady myself, lean in, and press a gentle kiss to Domenico's cheek. Rising from the chair, I glance at him one last time, holding onto the quiet strength I've found.

Sometimes life doesn't give you a choice. She slams the door in your face without giving you a chance to decide what kind of person you want to be. She can take someone to heaven or hell, but at the end of the day, you are the author of where you'll end up.

And then life goes on, like nothing ever happened—like forgetting is possible. But you never really forget, because hell isn't just a place you go when you die. Sometimes, it's the world you're already living in.

I lean in close and whisper, "I love you, Domenico," hoping with all my heart that he hears me and believing he does.

I walk to the door without glancing back at him or hesitating for even a moment. As I step into the corridor, one of the guards catches sight of me, his gaze sweeping over me with focused attention.

I act like I'm unsure where the doctor's office is. "Is the doc still the fourth door down?" I ask, and he nods. "Damn, I need some strong pain meds—my shoulder's killing me," I say, rubbing just below the injured area. Without waiting for a response, I head toward the office, aware that the creep is still standing there, staring at me.