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“Enzo,” I whisper to my brother, in the hope that he’ll listen to Zane. “Please, don’t let them take more away from us than they already have.”

“How do I not? I love you all so much, but what good have I done for the family if this is how we all end up?” Enzo is becoming as torn up as I once was by the demons that reside within. The ones I have been saved from on copious times. “Carlo is a broken man, Bruno is distraught, and you’re laid up in a hospital bed, Lia. Right now, I can’t see past that. I cannot start to piece us back together when I don’t have the strength to keep myself together. This is too much to cope with.”

“We are all going to have monsters, Enzo. I know that more than anyone, but you cannot let them win now,” I start to say, but I’m cut off by my brother shaking his head vigorously at me.

“I can’t do this,” Enzo mutters. I can sense he’s about to leave, but before actually doing so, he says one sentence that cuts me up more than anything ever before. “Sorry to disappoint you, Amelia, but all the monsters in our life are human and family.”

The irritating scent of battling flowers infiltrates my sense. I have so many bouquet arrangements that not only is the smell nauseating, but the various colors dotted around my room is dizzying. What makes it worse is the name attached to every single card buried within the petals –
Papà
. The offending peace offering is enough to make me physically throw up and it only hastens the anger burning up through my veins.

I don’t have much of a clue of what’s going to happen to me and my life once I’m free of the hospital, but I know I won’t be able to tolerate being under the same roof as my father or where hell broke loose. I can barely comprehend surviving without my little brother there to offer me that one piece of salvation that no one else can offer, let alone how I’ll survive stepping foot into the house where life has only been an upward battle.

I allow my attention to drift across the room as I notice a newer presence to my right. I look to see a middle-aged man dressed in scrubs with a white coat over them standing in the doorway to my room. He’s handsome with a serene face and the moment he sees me look, he offers me a small grin.

“It’s nice to see some color in your face finally, Ms. Abbiati,” the doctor announces, allowing himself into the room.

“It’s Amelia,” I tell him dryly, correcting him as I push myself up slightly.

“Amelia,” he remarks, smiling as if to say he’s taken notice. “I just need to check on your wounds and see how you’re healing.” He waits a moment, taking an opportunity to grab my chart and look over all the details the nurses have been endlessly writing. “We also need to discuss your injuries.”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, not needing to hear about my health. As the hours have ticked past, that sentiment has stuck with me. “When will I get to leave?”

“Not just yet, I’m afraid,” he admits in a sheepish tone. “Your injuries were extensive, Amelia.” The doctor speaks, and I can hear from that softness he executes his words with that what he’s about to say won’t be good for my already fragile heart. “We had to remove your spleen to stop part of the bleeding, but the additional stab wounds were lower in your abdomen. The damage we had to fix was quite a bit more severe.”

I hate how he fucking dances around the crux of the issue here. I flash my gaze up at him, daring him to speak, but when he looks petrified of me, I speak up.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

He begins to sputter before easing into the matter at hand. “I’m saying that due to the abdominal trauma, conceiving a child on your own in the future will be risky. If you actually manage to do so naturally, you’ll be a high-risk pregnancy. That is if you can conceive in the first place.” There’s a pause, a silence so healthy and thick with emotion that I understand how he’s suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s not impossible, but there is a higher chance you won’t be able to carry to term due to the damage.” There’s another annoying pause. “I’m sorry.”

Is that all he can say to me? He’s sorry; as if that’s going to make the world spin correctly and my heart not shatter furthermore to reveal my empty soul. He stands apologetically looking at me as if I’m going to find comfort or acceptance in his presence. It’s not that simple anymore. Things aren’t getting better with time. My brother just keeps taking from us piece by gloriously broken piece. First Manuel is dead, and now, my future of a happy family life with Zane is in catastrophic jeopardy.

I sit emotionally detached. The doctors began talking again and discussing what damage actually occurred, but I don’t comprehend a single word. Instead, I'm met with silence as the grief that was already so consuming now becomes unbearable.
You’ll forever trap him into a life of misery
, my thoughts awaken, darkening as even they take in what the doctor’s really saying – my future will always hang in the balance. At first, it was at the hands of my father, and now it’s because of my own brother. I will never be free from the ghouls I have as blood relations because they are far more superior to the weaklings who lived with a beating heart.

There are a few exchanges once the doctor’s finished and he sets to checking me over. Even though he’s pleased with my physical state, apparently my mental condition is deteriorating. I can see it in his eyes, his deliverance has sent me into shock and I just run with whatever he has to say. I couldn’t say muc anyway – my life is in tatters, no verbal reasoning is going to change a fucking thing about that.

“
Ciao, dolcezza
,” Zane announces his arrival, delivering a line of perfectly strung Italian.

Even in the midst of unhappiness, he shines a little brighter for more. I know he could wallow in anguish like I am, but he keeps smiling, keeps reminding me that life does continue on. He’s that one piece of solace I greedily want to keep. Now, however, he’s that one piece of solace I’m scared I’ll destroy forever with the new change to my health.

“Here,” he remarks and hands me over a bag.

I reach inside and peel back the sides of the paper bag to reveal an overdose of sugary goodness. He’s brought the one thing I brought him – Pixy Stix. I look up, bafflement sinking in, but he just grins.

“Payback,” he remarks, offering a playful wink to me. “I thought it was the least I could do.” I offer a small smile in response, but I find that I’m too emotionally unstable to say anything. That is the one thing that triggers Zane to respond, to really look at me. I know he realizes that I am grieving, but he can also pick up when I’m hurting more than I already am. The way his face changes tells me that he knows. “Have you been crying?” he asks, sitting on the edge of my bed – a place he’s favored more than anywhere else in this room.

“Yeah,” I sniffle, wiping the errant tears away. “I wasn’t expecting you back.”

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t keep me away,” he attempts to tease, but the notion is lost on me. The impact it usually has barely registers, and I just grin mirthlessly in response. “I took a quick shower and picked up some stuff for you and Enzo. I can’t stay away from this place while you’re stuck in here.”

“It’s boring here,” I utter; nonchalance is the only tone I’ve mastered since waking up. “And I’m not much company.”

Zane’s lips pull into a delicate smile, the corners barely tugging, but he grabs my hands. “I’m not going anywhere.”

There’s a deliberate silence and I’ve come to find I hate them the most. They’re poison for the soul. Silences do nothing but allow demons – old and new – to clamber their way to the surface of your barely beating heart

“You know, when I woke up in my father’s office, I could only wonder if, after everything, that was how I was going to die. But the thought didn’t last long because when my entire life flashed before my eyes, I saw you, Zane. You consume me and I didn't realize the extent of that until then. And I really wanted you to come and save me, and you did." I sniff again, reaching out for his hand as it sits beside mine. "I opened my eyes and my every wish came true. I didn’t care about anything else but seeing you one last time." I look at him, feeling my eyes stare as my nostrils flare to halt another influx of unforgiveable tears. “How selfish is that? I witnessed my brother get hurt, and I knew another was hurt, but all I could wish for was you. What type of person does that make me?”

“A very human one,” he counters, leaning in to wipe away my tears for me. “When I was shot, I just wished for every second to bring you closer to me, and when I woke up in that hospital, there you were. Against all odds, you risked everything for me. The reason I came back was because every step of our
round two,
you only ever loved me, Amelia. I was blindsided, but I vow to never let that happen again. And when I could feel you dying, I vowed to myself that I would only ever love you. I would give you everything in this world to prove that you deserve to live and I deserve a chance to show you that I only ever loved you. No more chances, just this one. That’s all I need now. There is no issue with your family breaking us up, or what you have to do, or my better judgment. This life isn’t worth living if I don’t have you to live it with. I’ve tried too many times and it never gets easier. You’re everything I need to live a perfect life.”

I hiccup on a sob, managing to cut its life short, but as the words of my doctor come back to haunt me, I don’t know how much of this I’ll be able to keep on lockdown. “Am I enough for you, though?” I ask him, my tone falls an octave, as I fear the response he could deliver. “Whatever happens, am I enough to keep you happy?”

“Amelia,” Zane begins to say, his voice soft as confusion weaves across every inch of his face. “What’s brought this on?”

I open my mouth, ready to form the words, but instead, a suffocating lump forms, so evident I have to swallow hard to dislodge it. He’s already been through so much because of me, how do I dare worsen that for him? I don’t want this burden to become his. This isn’t the type of sorry future I want him to promise himself to. The worst part is that I selfishly don’t want to tell him because of the fear of losing him. I don’t know how to function without Zane because, right now, he is the only constant in my life.

“Everything,” I whisper, discreetly closing the news away and glazing over it.

“Amelia, has something
else
happened?” he asks, and I shake my head. “I know when you’re lying to me, sweetheart. I know you’re keeping something from me.”

“I’m not,” I admonish, my tone curt with him. “I don’t know when I’m going to feel okay with life and I worry that by feeling like this you’ll grow bored of waiting for me to heal.” I look away, a tear abandoning me. “I’m scared you won’t want a girl who’s as broken as I am right now.”

“You may be broken, but I love every shard of you, Amelia. I always have and this isn’t going to make me shy away from that. I loved the broken girl you thought you were before, and right now, I’ve never loved her more.” He leans in, rubbing yet more tears away. “And I will tell you every day just how much I believe in that.” His lips curl into a small, honest grin, one that lightens his eyes. “When we’re building a life together, making our happy ending happen, I will make sure that you know that I only ever want to fix you. In years to come, when we have a happy home and a big, happy family surrounding us, I will remind you of the moment you worried over it.”

I hiccup on a sob, and he reacts to me. The mere fact he’s thought of that sort of future with me darkens another corner of my heart. I won’t ever be able to give him what he wants and that inadequacy makes me feel not merely enough for him. Zane Maverick is destined for only greatness. Once before, I believed I was the one to not only give him that but to also live it with him. Now, I’m pretty sure there is another woman out there waiting for her world to collide with his just so she can give him the happiest of endings.

The thought alone devastates me furthermore, and as I unravel once more, he’s the one who catches me. It’s that which makes me cling to him more. Every time I enter into freefall, he is there to catch me gracefully in his arms. He may be the one most able to hurt me, but he is the one to love me most. No matter what storm weathers our relationship, I will always love him. Heartbreak, deceit, near deaths,  and my commitment to the wrong people hasn’t broken us.. If anything, it’s made us a stronger couple. I feel like Zane’s plight into the Dio Lavoro was always made with the ulterior motive to make me love him more. He showed his dedication to me when it should’ve been with my father, and he survived my cold-hearted moves to be here today.

I know the truth will crush him, but I can’t bear to have that deliverance when I need him far too much.

***

I lie staring directly up at the ceiling above me. My thoughts drift across a vast spectrum of thoughts – Manuel, Giovanni, my father, Enzo, Zane, Bruno, Carlo, my mother, and then it goes back on a loop. I hate how the majority of my life events are defined by death or devious deeds. That’s no life to look back on. Without Zane, the darkness would be all I’d know, but with him, he penetrates it and forces me to live everything with my heart protected and believe in hope.

“Bambina.” My father’s voice cracks the almost golden silence of the room. He waits until I look at him before he speaks again. “Amelia,” he breathes with a broken spirit.

The
Salvatore Abbiati - boss, mogul, devil incarnate - looks worn down and distraught at the life he now lives. His empire is splintering to pieces, descending into rubble, and I cannot find any form of pity. This is what he’s brought upon us. The fate he cast upon us the very moment we were born is one he prided himself with, one he vowed would see him reach the top of any criminal hierarchy.

All I see is a bunch of lost children who struggled to seek the right path in the wrong world. That’s all we are, all we were really destined to be – misguided souls.

“I can’t believe it came to this,” he whispers, taking a graceful step into the room.

I remain unmoved. I allow him to take the sight of me in – the disheveled, red-eyed victim left behind. If I’m honest, the fear that strikes to life in the thought of Giovanni also resonates with my father. They are cut from the same cloth, and I cannot help but see my brother as a product of my father’s doing. He enabled Giovanni to murder our own with intent to kill two more; I cannot just let that escape my mind.

“I’m so sorry, bambina. I never knew he was capable of doing such a thing,” he comments and I scoff at the thought, mocking it. “What Giovanni has done has destroyed me more than you’ll ever know.” He takes a calculated step forward. “I love you, Amelia. I wish it hadn’t taken this to show me how much I do. When I saw you on my desk, my life stopped. Even more so than when we found Manuel and Enzo.” I hear a quiver in his tone; clearly my silence cuts deep and opens him to his real emotions. “I tried to see you while you were in a coma, but Bruno and Carlo kept me out. I got one glimpse of you and you looked so weak and were dependent on so many machines to keep you alive. I should never have needed that type of wake-up call. My strong baby girl was barely holding on and that was my fault for never seeing the man that Giovanni was becoming. I will forever relive that day.”