Prisoner to Mr. Mafia (Book 1 In PTMM Series)

Chapter: 13

  True compassion means not only feeling another's pain but also being moved to help relieve it. ~Daniel Goleman

Adriano Pov~ 

Seeing her lifeless body lying on the ground sent a searing wave of pain coursing through me. I crumbled instantly, shouldering the guilt for her excruciating suffering. I should have found her sooner; after all, I am the Capo, capable of almost anything, and yet, I couldn't locate my sister for 15 long years.

For 15 agonizing years, she had languished in unknown torment, all because of my monumental screw-up.

My fury was palpable. I yearned to thrust my hand into Roman Alexeev's throat, tearing out his lifeblood, but even that would not quench the inferno of rage within me.

After nine excruciating hours, we finally arrived back at the estate. I had arranged in advance for our private doctor, Simon, to be on standby.

Matteo cradled Miliana's lifeless form in his arms as we stormed into the estate, my men swiftly clearing a path for us.

"In here!" Simon's voice called out from one of the upstairs guest rooms. Gently, Matteo placed her on the bed. She was shockingly pallid, her skeletal frame nearly visible through her translucent skin. She appeared spectral, and I despised the sight.

Simon swiftly connected her to the IV, meticulously monitoring her vital signs. Matteo urged me out of the room, much to my frustration, so that Simon could work without our watchful eyes.

We stood by the door, rooted in place. The fact that she was finally here, back with us, was a surreal relief. But it didn't quell my burning desire to exact vengeance on Roman with my own hands.

Leena sprinted down the hallway toward us, anxiety etched across her face.

"Where is she?" She panted, her voice trembling with worry.

"Simon's checking on her. She doesn't look well, Leena," Matteo informed, his tone heavy with concern.

Leena's shoulders slumped, her attempt at reassurance barely masking her own fear. "She's a Basilio. She'll pull through."

Simon eventually opened the door, and the three of us entered the room.

"She's alive, and her breathing is steady, but she's severely malnourished. She needs nourishment and fluids to regain her strength and wake up. I've conducted a preliminary assessment; a comprehensive one will have to wait until she's fully conscious," Simon explained.

"How can she eat and drink if she can't even wake up?" I demanded, my arms folded defensively.

"I can maintain the IV to provide sustenance," Simon responded. "It's the only option."

"Do it," I ordered resolutely. "Whatever it takes to nurse her back to health." I instructed, he nodded and got to work. 

Leena approached Miliana on the bed, moving as though in a daze. Then, in the blink of an eye, she abruptly turned and exited the room. As I continued to gaze at Miliana, my rage surged back, overwhelming me. I needed an outlet, a way to release the pent-up anger and frustration. Without hesitation, I left the room and headed straight for the downstairs gym.

Shrugging off my jacket and rolling up my sleeves, I entered the dimly lit space. My eyes locked onto a defenseless punching bag, and in that moment, I envisioned it as Roman, the source of my fury.

Gianna Pov~

When we returned, I headed straight for my room and stepped into the shower, seeking a moment of respite. But as soon as the water cascaded over me, my tears began to flow. Bent over, I let the sobs wrack my body.