She's an innocent girl who lived with her alcoholic abusive father. Her life was barley manageable, especially when she was separated from her biological family at such a young age.
When her father mysteriously dies from a car crash, she's taken to...
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(Still before Azalea's previous POV)
THIRD PERSON POV:
SILENCE SUFFOCATED the suddenly cramped space they stayed in. Everything was silent. An eerie, taunting silence. One that dared someone to say something.
No one does.
Giovanni opens his mouth, trying to utter a word. Nothing comes out.
For once, they were speechless.
Nobody had anticipated anything even close to what the nurse had just said. It was all so sudden, unexpected.
With given time, they still wouldn't have been able to prepare themselves for such news.
Everyone had different emotions and different ways of dealing with this.
Giovanni's jaw was tense, his nails dug into his palm. He remained extremely tense in his seat. He was angry, but he suppressed it. Out of everyone, he was meant to be the most logical. As of right now, he wanted nothing more than to snap the nurses neck, tell her it's not true. He needed reassurance that he did not get. Something told him it was true, his guts. They were never one to fail the Italian Don.
Deep breaths were heard from Elijah. He was the mother hen of the small bundle, one that'd keep everyone calm and operating. Though, he was having a hard time keeping calm himself. The words came like a stab to the chest. He'd failed to protect his splendido angelo, now he could not help but feel like he had failed her, failed his mother, father even.
A sob echoed out through the melancholy halls. Then many more to come. Elliott was crying. He was protected from the Mafia world. In fact, he was almost just as clueless as Azalea when it came to their brothers. They were always closed out, refusing to tell Elliott anything. At first, he felt left out, alone, but eventually, he'd gotten used to it. But recently, Azalea and Elliott had gotten to know each other well.
And so when he was informed of the severity of the situation, he cried. He sobbed. He was never one to take violence well, nor did he like blood. But he knew he'd cover himself head to toe with blood if it meant Azalea would be fine. Steps from Elliott's running could be hears fading away. His sobs became more distant, such a pure soul.
No one ran after him. They were all in their own worlds.
Aidan sat in his seat, body rigid. He was frozen. His breath slowed down magnificently. The information came spurring at him. He never had time to dodge. Normally, he'd use hacking to fix things. It was an efficient way of escaping the trouble fate brought down on you for him. But this time, he couldn't just escape. He was helpless. He could only do so little, and he hated it. Like all the rest, he'd failed to protect his little angelo.
