Everyone has heard of the Godfathers the definitive representation of what it is to be an Italian Mafioso, from the dusty mountainside of Sicily to the posh New York avenues.
Some choose to leave the fatherland for greener pastures; some turn the du...
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The first thing I felt was the sharp scent of antiseptic. The next was a dull, throbbing pain that seemed to emanate from every part of my body. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt heavy, as if glued shut. Slowly, I managed to peel them open, blinking against the harsh, white fluorescent lights above.
Where am I? The question echoed in my mind, fuzzy and indistinct. I turned my head slightly and saw the unmistakable sight of a hospital room: the beeping machines, the IV drip, the sterile white sheets. Panic began to rise in my chest, my heart rate quickening as fragmented memories began to return. The van. The basement. The darkness.
And then I saw him.
He was slumped in a chair beside my bed, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days. His hand was clutching mine, his grip firm and reassuring. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I took in the sight of him, my anchor in the storm that had consumed my life.
I squeezed his hand weakly, and his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he looked disoriented, but then his gaze focused on me, and relief washed over his features. "You're awake," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"Hey," I croaked, my voice barely audible.
He leaned forward, bringing my hand to his lips. "I thought I lost you," he said, his voice breaking. "When they found you... I didn't know if you'd ever wake up."
"I'm here," I whispered, feeling tears spill down my cheeks. "I'm here."
He stood and carefully sat on the edge of the bed, still holding my hand. "I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly. "You're safe now. They're never going to hurt you again."
down his cheeks as he kissed me. The warmth of his embrace and the depth of his kiss made everything else fade away, if only for a moment.
"Giovanni..." I mumbled against his lips, my voice trembling with a mix of relief and love.
Just then, we heard the sound of the door unlocking. Giovanni quickly pulled away from me, his face flushed with emotion. My heart raced as my brother stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. He stood there for a moment, taking in the scene, and I could feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment.
He clears his throat and says, "I know my sister loves you, but that doesn't mean you can take advantage of her like that. For Christ's sake, leave her for a second; she just woke up now."
"I'm sorry, Adriano," Giovanni apologized. I couldn't believe my ears. Giovanni actually apologized to my brother.
"Come on, brother, don't act like he was forcing me. We just missed each other a lot," I said, trying to ease the tension.
"If he really missed you so much, then he shouldn't have left you alone in the graveyard!" Adriano yelled, his voice echoing through the small room.
"Brother, don't blame him for anything. It's not his fault. I told him to leave," I justified, my voice rising with urgency. I couldn't bear anyone blaming Giovanni for something that wasn't his mistake.
