Mafia's African Rose

Hard choices

VIKTOR
"Mom, are you sure about this?" I asked, my voice firm but laced with concern. "Seeing him won't change anything. He's going to die sooner or later, and honestly, I think it's best to let Alexio handle things his way. If you push too hard, whatever patience he has left for you might vanish, and then you'll lose two sons."

"No, Viktor," she said, her voice trembling. "I... I deserve to see him." Her breath hitched. "A child I never got to hold—how dare you tell me to let him die without looking into his eyes first?" She coughed, and my chest tightened at the sight of her falling apart.

"Mom," I said softly, feeling a wave of sympathy wash over me.

"You don't understand," she cut me off, shaking her head. "You don't, Viktor. You have no idea what it's like to know your son is about to die, and all you can do is watch. And it's my fault. I've always been a coward. If I hadn't run away and left Alexio behind, maybe... maybe I would have figured it out."

"Mom, stop." I placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault. You did what you had to do to survive. That bastard put you through hell. There's nothing wrong with choosing to live."

She let out a shaky breath, her tears soaking into my shirt as I pulled her into a hug.

I was relieved that Dad was still in Russia for business. If he were here, he wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in that son of a bitch's already dead skull.

When we arrived at Alexio's penthouse, one of his men immediately led us to his office. Alexio barely spared me a glance before turning to Mom, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he gave her a single nod. An invitation.

She took a deep breath and followed him inside.

ADRIANA POV:

       Alexio led me down into the cold, dimly lit basement without a word. He simply gestured for me to step inside. The moment I did, the metallic scent of blood and steel wrapped around me. The chains rattled as he lifted his swollen, bloodied face at the sound of my footsteps. His body was wrecked—bruises painting his skin in ugly shades of purple and red, his lips cracked, one eye swollen shut. His breath came in ragged gasps.

He deserved this. I repeated the thought in my head, trying to make it easier for myself. But my fingers still trembled as I stood there, staring at him.

"I'm sorry," I managed to whisper, my voice barely holding together. Tears streamed down my face. "I failed you... and Alexio." My chest felt tight, the weight of guilt pressing down on me. "If I had stayed with Alexio, maybe I would've known... maybe I could've stopped this."

"Can you leave?" he rasped, wincing like even speaking hurt. "I'm not interested in being pitied."

"It's all his fault," I shot back, my voice shaking. "He made you a monster. He carved you into this, into someone who could do that to Angel."

"He didn't," Sasha muttered. "I decided to be a monster. Now leave."

I bit my lip, hesitating before stepping closer. His eyes followed me, dull and unreadable. Slowly, I reached out and touched his face. He let out a grunt of pain but didn't pull away. A choked cry escaped my throat. I hesitated before cupping his face, afraid he might flinch. My fingers brushed through his matted hair, I didn't see the broken man in front of me—I saw the newborn I never got to hold.

"I didn't know," I whispered, my tears falling freely now.

He looked at me like I had lost my mind. "Why are you breaking for me?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "It's not like we ever had some kind of mother-son relationship." He turned his face away, but I didn't let go.