𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞
I am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.
Francesca "Frank" Monroe. One of the most successful criminal defense attorneys in the history of Chicago. The woman everyone...
"Tell me, tutor,' I said. 'Is revenge a science, or an art?"
- Mark Lawrence
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I sat vigil next to Salvatore's hospital bed, watching him battle for his life in an unconscious state, the steady beeping of life-sustaining machines forming a haunting backdrop to the thoughts churning in my head.
As I wracked my brain trying to make sense of it all, one burning question stubbornly rose to the surface: why did he take a bullet meant for me?
I clung onto his cold, unmoving hand, my heart contracting with every painful pulse. Losing such an honorable and kind man was unthinkable. Though our time together had been short, he had effortlessly shown himself to be genuine and compassionate, and I just wasn't ready to say goodbye.
Leaving his room felt like an agony. Spotting Serafina crumbled on a waiting room chair, her body racking with gut-wrenching sobs, was more than I could bear.
Swamped with guilt, I barely had the courage to meet her gaze as I dropped onto the seat next to her. Words refused to make their way out until, after a torturous silence, I finally managed a quiet apology, "I'm sorry. It's because of me that he's in there."
Serafina turned to face me, her eyes bloodshot from crying. "I never understood why my father took such an interest in you or why he cared so much. And now, sacrificing himself for you just doesn't make any sense. If he'd never met you, he would not be here, clinging to life. This might have never happened." Each word was a blade cutting deep into me.
And she was right. It was true - if Salvatore and I had never met, he might be still be safe with his family, not lying here. If he hadn't cared so deeply or jumped in front of that damn bullet. In one way or another, this was my fault.
"I'm sorry.." I murmured again before storming out, my tears betraying me. It was unbearable.
"Frankie!" Hector called out, catching me before I could leave. "Baby, are you okay?"
"It was all my fault... all my fault!" I sobbed, seeking solace in his sturdy arms. "I bring destruction wherever I go."
"Hey, hey! Quit saying that!" He was quick to console, cradling my face and drawing my tear-streaked face up to meet his eyes. "Listen to me, it's not your fault! You have to understand that. We'd all do anything to keep you safe, and that's just what Salvatore did. He protected you. I'm just glad you're safe."
A sudden, deafening cry ripped through the calm, causing both of us to jump in dread.
Hurrying back inside, where we were met with an agonizing sight. There was Serafina, in absolute turmoil, on her knees with relentless sobs racking through her body. Her face filled with sheer terror, while doctors swarmed Salvatore's room.
"NO! Per favore, non lasciarlo morire! Per favore! Papa! (no! Please, don't let him die! Please!)" Serafina was begging through her sobs, her body shaking as Carlo tried to comfort her.
