Eternal Echoes

𝟬𝟯 | 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈ಿৎ

I woke up to the hollow silence that had become my constant companion. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly shut as if they were trying to keep the outside world at bay.

For a moment, I let myself believe that she was still beside me, that her warmth was still there, that her breath was still fanning softly against my shoulder. But when I reached out, all I found was the cold, empty space where Anastasia used to be.

A familiar ache gripped my chest, a pain so deep it felt like it might tear me apart from the inside. My hand instinctively went to the wedding ring still wrapped around my finger.

The metal was cool, unforgiving, a stark contrast to the warmth she once brought into my life. The memories of her came flooding back — her laughter, her touch, the way she could light up a room just by being in it. And now. . . now there was only darkness.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the world, trying to escape the relentless march of time that only seemed to take me further away from her.

The bed, once a place of comfort and love, now felt like a tomb. A place where dreams of her haunted my every sleep, turning what should have been restful nights into endless torture.

There was a part of me that wanted to stay right here, to lie in bed and let the world pass me by. To give in to the grief that threatened to consume me whole.

To allow the tears that I had held back for so long to finally fall, unchecked and unashamed. But I knew that wasn't an option. I was Giovanni Russo, head of the Italian mafia. I couldn't afford to be weak, to let my enemies see how deeply I was hurting.

But God, it hurt.

I slowly sat up, the effort it took to just get out of bed feeling monumental. Every muscle in my body screamed for me to lie back down, to just give in and let the darkness take me.

But I forced myself to move. My feet hit the cold floor, and I let the chill jolt me back into the reality I had been trying so hard to avoid.

In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, trying to shake

off the lethargy that clung to me like a second skin. When I looked into the mirror, the man staring back at me was barely recognizable. Hollow eyes, unshaven stubble, and a face etched with lines of pain that no amount of time could smooth over. I barely recognized myself.

For a moment, I considered canceling everything. The thought of facing the mafia summit, of pretending that everything was fine when my entire world had crumbled, was unbearable. But I knew that wasn't an option.

I had responsibilities, people who depended on me. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn't let them down.

With a heavy sigh, I turned away from the mirror and began the process of getting dressed. Each piece of clothing felt like another layer of armor, another way to keep the world at a distance.

By the time I was fully dressed, I looked every bit the part of the ruthless mafia boss, but inside, I was crumbling.

━━━━━━━━━━

𝐓𝐇𝐄 drive to the meeting was a blur of gray buildings and muted colors. My thoughts drifted as I navigated the streets, each turn bringing me closer to an event I dreaded.

When I arrived at the high—rise building, I felt like I was walking through a fog, each step a reminder of the weight I carried.

The summit was already in full swing when I arrived. Representatives from various crime families were engaged in hushed conversations and strategic discussions.