“You’re what?” My voice was low yet my thoughts were loud. I processed his words—carefully. When he did not turn to look at me, my chest squeezed and asked in a broken voice trying to contain my tears to myself. “At least tell me where you’re going.” “Russia.” I paced around the room, my anxiety intensifying with each second. I was ready to tear my hair out. My every step was a battle with unease, and anxiety threading through the rhythm of my footsteps. Each breath felt heavier than the last. My fidgeting hands betrayed the restless within, fingers tracing invisible patterns of worry.This morning Dante came tensed into our room, after some heated talk in Italian both he and Silvio went somewhere, and now that he was back after four hours, he was packing up. If it was limited to clothes I would’ve been fine, but Guns! He was fucking arming up! I knew something was up in the last few days, I also knew Silvio was hiding something from me.
A week without Silvio felt surreal, like a strange dream lingering as I awaited the wake-up call. The nights were restless, contributing to the nightmare-like quality of my days. It was reminiscent of a time machine, the kind you find in a drama, waiting for a loved one to recover from a tragic accident. I couldn't shake the nightmares, the patient who never woke up from his coma.My usual morning routine consisted of dragging myself off the bed and eating the breakfast Alfred made so lovingly for me after that a guard or two would accompany me to the clinic. Margaret was such a help. She would filter out my schedule, hiring some new doctors and assistants. At the start of the week, I was so nervous and anxious. But as time went by, I found myself getting familiar with the situation. Spending my whole day at the clinic helped me take my mind off Silvio for the time being. I barely thought of him during the day. There was this one five-year-old little girl, diagnosed with autism and h
The pungent smell of blood touched my nostrils, and I almost fucking laughed as the man under my boot trembled with his eyes wide as saucers ready to pop out any moment. I fed on his raw fear, the beast inside me roaring after months at the sight of blood. I missed this. I fucking missed this power. “Messy as always.” Nikolaev’s Russian voice fell upon my ears but I ignored him. Too occupied with the sight of blood. I dug the knife deeper and watched the man scream. He writhed on the cold, hard, bloodied ground. I clicked my tongue when the blood splattered all over my expensive beige suit—the custom-made designer set I thought I’d wear on one of the dinner dates with Sadie. Alas. “Just finish him already, Salvatore” Nikolaev’s said behind my back. “Where’s the fun in that?” I tilted my head, twisting the knife in his flesh before pulling it away. He screamed in pain and it was like music to my ears. “He laughed mockingly. “You’re a real sadist. Mitchelle was right, Silvio S
“No more games, Silvio!” He snarled as I slowly turned around. Dante shielded me from the front but I side-stepped him, unbothered though the adrenaline rushed through my veins. I was not afraid of death. If anything, death should be afraid of me. I chuckled tilting my head. “Games? Do you think I am playing game? Your humour is getting better. Cause I’m not playing games here, Mitchelle, I am the game,” I drawled throwing the blade over my shoulder. “The game you can never win.” I walked closer to him until I was just a feet away. Mitchelle flinched, my eyes lowered to his trembling hands but he tried to stand his ground. I almost laughed. Pathetic. Pretentious. He was now aiming at my chest, right over my heart. His eyes fuming as I counted the men behind him in my head. Twenty-four. And then unexpected happened. Mitchelle chuckled, throwing his head back as his loud laugh bombarded through the building. Was I looking funny? Or did I say something funny? I raised my brow wh
"If she can't be mine, I won't let her be yours as well." A voice said emotionlessly. I blinked as the scene in front of me unfolded into a web of darkness and the sharp screeching of tires. I looked around helplessly and confused at the sudden change of scenery. A dark cloudy sky took over the sky, sharp lights piercing my eyes as I let out a groan. I wondered how I ended up here, in the middle of the road, with unfamiliar yet familiar voices resonating in the distance. I suddenly felt a pair of hands on my waist as my whole body rocked with a scream tearing through my throat. "Silas NO-!"I heard someone's scream filled with panic and urgency making me immediately gasp as my head whipped around at the familiar voice.Looking around, all I could see was just the four familiar faces- Dante, Olivia, my father and Micah’s anxious and panicked gazes. I frowned. How did they get here? What were they doing—I felt something tightening around my waist while I looked at the other side to se
I drifted in and out of consciousness, the periods of wakeful agony interspersed with short stretches of soothing darkness. I didn’t know if it had been hours, days, or weeks, but it felt like I’d been there forever, at the mercy of death and the pain. I felt touches, heavy dosages of drugs and then….everything would fade. It felt like I was in and out of dreams—sweet dream, where there was no one but me and her. My beautiful doctor and a little baby girl, resembling my cara Mia’s features and my striking eyes. And then sometimes I’d dream of seeing her wearing the wedding dress, just like the one she wore in our wedding. But this time, she was beaming and smiling at me. There was no fear or hesitancy in her eyes but love. Love for me. These dreams didn’t let me sleep.I didn’t knew how long this game of in and out of conciseness continued, but this time, I was able to fully open my eyes. Without any dreams in my eyes, but just plain white walls of what seemed like a hospital. Or a
The heavy silence followed us with a startled intake of breath from Dante’s side as his wide eyes looked at me. He was probably wondering why would I slap Silvio when I had been crying and worrying for the past week. That night Seb forcefully locked me in the room when I refused to cooperate. After that day, I refused to talk to him or even eat anything. When the fatigue started getting to me, I lost consciousness on the third day, and Margaret got me on IV. By the fourth day, she started coaxing me into eating saying how I needed to think about my patients first. I obeyed. Ate a tiny amount of vegetable soup and some bread. It was not like I was on a strike or anything, I just didn’t have any appetite. And yesterday, I went to the clinic. Hardly spent four hours there before I had another panic attack. Seb had to get me home. He assured me that Silvio would be home today. And still, I refused to talk to him. It was only two hours ago when he told me that Silvio landed in Italy.
Two years... it felt like an eternity. As we all sat around the dining table, with Silvio as always beside me and Dad along with Olivia on opposite sides. Micah sat beside me with Dante to his left. None of us said anything when Alfred served us. I kept stealing glances at Dad and Olivia now and then, still shaken up and shocked. But as much as I looked at them, my heart filled with wholesome joy. “How are you, Dad?” I asked, my voice betraying the shock that still lingered. He looked up from his plate, his green eyes briefly met mine before he bobbed his head. “I’m fine…the surgeries went well.” I swallowed, and couldn’t bring myself to ask about the cancer. When he noticed my lowered eyes, he continued. “I’m receiving radiation therapy and chemotherapy from the world’s best doctor. Don’t worry I’ll be fine before you know.” He gave me a gentle smile. The spoon in my hand felt cold as I processed his words. “And the money?” Dad’s eyes moved to Silvio who ate in silence with his