The room is heavy with tension, the silence suffocating. The air feels thick, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for the next move to shatter the stillness. The weight of the gun in my hand is a stark contrast to the weight of everything I’ve lost.
Then, the door behind me bursts open—and in walks my son with his gun raised, pointed directly at Giacomo, his face set with grim determination.
“Put the gun down, Giacomo,” he says, voice cold and unwavering. “You lost.”
The sight of him, standing tall and unwavering, is a shock to my system. I thought I’d lost him forever. I never expected him to turn on his own father. But here he is—standing side by side with me.
I don’t have time to revel in this newfound victory. My eyes lock on my wife—her tear-stained face the one thing that grounds me.
“You’re a fool, Giacomo,” Daniele spits, his voice laced with bitterness. “You thought you could control everything, that I’d be your puppet. But you were wrong.”
Giacomo’s face twists in fury, his eyes blazing with rage. “You think I’m the fool? You, who couldn’t even obey the laws of our world? You’re a disappointment—a weak shadow of what I made you. You betrayed everything I taught you, everything I gave you. You were nothing but a weak boy, just like your mother.”
The words hit Daniele like a slap, but he doesn’t flinch. He’s grown into a man, not just in stature but in resolve. His grip on the gun tightens as he steps forward, his eyes never leaving Giacomo.
“I did what was right,” Daniele retorts, his voice low but steady. “You’re the one who lost your way—so consumed by rage and pride, it led to your own downfall.”
I can see the fury burning in Giacomo’s eyes. “You want to die for this, boy? You think your little rebellion matters? You’re nothing but the scum beneath my feet. “
Daniele’s eyes flash with something cold, something sharp. “I’m not your little boy.”
The room is on the edge of breaking, and just as the silence becomes unbearable, Giacomo’s voice slices through the tension—dripping with venom.
“You want to kill me, huh? You want to end it here? Then lower your weapons, or I swear to God—I’ll kill her.”
My heart stops. My breath catches in my throat, but I refuse to lower my gun.
The tension between the three of us thickens—each of us waiting for the other to make a move.
“Do it,” Giacomo sneers. “Take the shot, boys. Let’s see who’s faster.”
The weight of his words hangs in the air. The room seems to tilt as if gravity no longer works in our favor.
My thoughts are a whirlwind. My gun is steady, but I can feel my control slipping.
One wrong move, and everything will shatter.
Then, without warning, Giacomo’s eyes narrow. His gun swings away from Maria—aiming directly at Daniele.
“No!” I shout, but the sound is swallowed by the deafening crack of gunfire.
The shot rings out—sharp and fast.
Daniele stumbles back, a gurgled gasp escaping his lips as blood blooms across his abdomen.
My heart seizes in my chest.
“No!” I roar, my finger tightening on the trigger without thought.
The shot I take is swift. Decisive.
Giacomo’s head explodes in a spray of blood and bone.
His body hits the ground hard, blood pooling beneath him, eyes staring blankly at nothing.
I rush to Daniele’s side, my gun falling from my hand as I kneel beside him. He’s bleeding heavily, his face pale, the life draining from him with every passing second.
“Daniele, stay with me!” I shout, my hands pressing against the wound, desperate to stop the blood from flowing.
He struggles to open his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. “Papá… forgive me… I… I didn’t mean… to…”
“Danny, no,” I choke, my voice cracking. “Shh… save your strength. I’m here, my boy. I’m here.” Tears blur my vision, but I don’t care.
“Just stay alive,” I beg him, my hand trembling as I press it to his chest. “Please.”
His eyes flutter open for the briefest moment, a faint smile curling at the edges of his lips. “I’m sorry…” His words fade, and with one last shaky breath, his eyes close.
“Daniele!” I scream, shaking him, but there’s no response. The world around me tilts and sways, and for a moment, everything goes dark. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t process it.
And then I hear it. A soft, sickening thud.
I turn, and my heart freezes.
Maria.
She’s collapsed on the ground, her body unmoving, her face pale.
“Maria!” I shout, stumbling toward her, grief and fear crashing over me. My hand trembles as I reach out, fingers brushing her skin, feeling the chill.
And then, from somewhere far off, I hear the wail of sirens, ambulances drawing closer.
But in that moment, all I can think about is her.
My heart pounds in my chest, its rhythm erratic, jagged. Daniele’s body lies next to me, the blood soaking into the floor, and Maria… Maria is still unconscious, her body cold to the touch.
I feel like I’m drowning, like the world is closing in around me. I can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I need to save her. I need to save them both.
I pull Maria’s limp body into my arms, pressing her against me, desperate to feel the warmth of her skin. Her breath is shallow, but it’s there. The faint rise and fall of her chest keeps me grounded, pulling me back from the edge of insanity.
“Maria,” I whisper, my voice breaking as I shake her gently. “Please, come back to me. Please…”
Her eyelids flutter, and my heart skips a beat. A flicker of hope, the smallest spark in the darkness. But then her eyes remain closed, and I feel the weight of despair settle heavily over me.
The door bursts open, and a team of paramedics floods into the room—their presence like a breath of fresh air in a world suffocating with grief.
They move with practiced precision. One of them immediately kneels beside Daniele’s body, assessing the damage, while another approaches Maria, who is still in my arms.
“Get them out of here,” I demand, my voice hoarse, desperation threading through every word. “Now. Both of them. Don’t waste time.”
Valerio rushes in, his body splattered with blood—none of it his. His eyes sweep over the scene, and he curses under his breath when he sees Giacomo lying dead, a bullet hole in his skull.
I allow the paramedics to take her from me, to do their job—to get her to the hospital.
I rise to my feet, pressing down the emotions threatening to break loose.
There’s no time. We need to take care of this mess. The last thing I need is the authorities on my ass.
“I need this handled,” I say to my second. “We need everything cleaned up—quickly and quietly. Call the governor. And the congresswoman.”
“Got it, boss.” He places a hand on my shoulder. “They’ll be okay.”
I know words are meant to serve as encouragement, but they do nothing to ease the despair in my chest.
The paramedics move swiftly—loading Daniele’s body onto a stretcher, then Maria.
The life in her is fading fast, but they’re not going to let her go without a fight. I follow them, my steps unsteady, the weight of everything pressing down on me like a hammer.
I barely register the movement around me: the sound of the ambulance doors slamming shut, the rush of people speaking in low, urgent voices.
My mind is consumed by one thought, one singular focus: my family. My wife and son.
The journey between the cabin and the hospital is nothing but a blur. My mind is too lost in the events of what happened to fully comprehend much.
I sit beside her, my fingers wrapped around hers so tightly, my grip a silent plea to keep her here. I’m afraid I might crush her, but I need to feel her—need to make sure she’s still here.
We reach the hospital, and the moment the ambulance comes to a stop, the doors are flung open. I don’t wait. I don’t even hesitate.
I follow Maria and Daniele as they’re rushed into the emergency room, watching helplessly as the team works to keep them tethered to the land of the living.
Time becomes a blur after that, seconds dragging like hours. I’ve lost track—minutes, hours? I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in the sterile waiting room. All I know is I’m sitting there, a prisoner of my own thoughts.
I can’t focus. My mind is a storm of fears. The waiting room is filled with the dull hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional shuffle of footsteps, but all I hear is the loud thudding of my own heart.
Valerio sits beside me, his face pale and drawn, his hands clasped so tightly I can almost see his knuckles turning white. Dario and Ginny sit across from us, her head resting on her husband’s shoulder as we wait for news on either of them.
“They will make it out, Matteo. They are fighters.” Valerio places his hand on my shoulder. “They will be fine.”
I don’t answer him because he doesn’t know that. No one knows the outcome of what is happening in those operating rooms.
My entire world is on the other side of those doors, and I am helpless to do anything to fix their pain.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the door swings open. A doctor in a green surgical gown steps inside—his face impassive, his eyes tired. He walks straight toward me, and I can’t read his expression well enough to know if he’s carrying good news… or the kind that breaks you.
The four of us rise from our seats, waiting for him to speak.
“Mr. Davacalli,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “Your wife is out of surgery. She had significant internal bleeding, but we were able to stop it. We also placed a shunt in her chest to drain excess fluid.”
“And the baby?”
“The baby’s fine. Strong heartbeat.” He offers me a small smile. “Maria is still unconscious, but I can take you back to see her.”
A rush of relief floods me, my chest tightening in a way that almost hurts. I stare at the doctor, trying to process what he’s just said, but his words barely register.
But the relief is short-lived.
“What about Daniele?”
The doctor’s face falls, and his next words make my stomach drop.
“Your son, however…” He pauses. “He must’ve hit the floor hard before you got to him. There was significant hemorrhaging in his brain, and it swelled during the chest surgery. We were able to relieve the pressure, but…”
He hesitates just for a moment. “He’s on life support. As it stands, there’s little to no brain function. We’re not sure he’ll regain it. You’ll need to start considering your options.”
The room spins around me. The air thickens. For a moment, I can’t breathe.
My son.
I swallow hard, nausea rising like a tide. My throat tightens as the words sink in—slowly, painfully.
Daniele. My son.
I force myself to nod. “I… I understand.”
I can feel Valerio, Dario, and Ginny looking at me, pity swimming in their eyes. But I don’t dare look at any of them.
“Can I see my wife?”
The doctor nods. “You can, but only for a few minutes. She’s still unconscious, and we will need to transfer her to the ICU after she is done in post-op. We need to monitor her closely. The next forty-eight hours will be critical for her and the baby.”
I don’t care. I don’t care how long they’ll let me stay or how long I’ve been waiting. I just need to be near her. I need to feel like I’m still connected to her in this storm of chaos and loss.
I leave the three of them and follow the doctor down the hall, the walls closing in around me, and enter the room where Maria lies. She’s hooked up to machines, a quiet beeping sound filling the otherwise silent room. Her body is pale, almost translucent against the white sheets, but she’s breathing.
She’s still here.
I pull a chair to her side, my eyes never leaving her face. I reach for her hand, brushing my fingers over hers as I hold it gently. I let the silence stretch between us, the only sound the soft rhythm of the machines.
“Please,” I whisper again, the words a prayer.
“You need to pull through this, amore. I can’t lose you, Maria. Not when our child needs you to fight to be here. Not when I haven’t told you how sorry I am. Not before I make up for what I did. Please… come back to me.”
Never in all my years have I felt so helpless.
All the power and money in the world, and I still couldn’t save my son—and now my wife’s life hangs in the balance.
Fuck.
I don’t care how long I have to wait—I’ll be at her side, willing her to open her eyes again.
She needs to wake up because without her, there’s no version of me that can exist.
