Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
VIRGILIO
I sit beside Zoe on the couch in the drawing room.
Her presence beside me feels like a lifeline. I lean in and kiss her again, feeling her soft lips against mine, thankful beyond words that she is safe. Her hands tremble slightly as they rest on my chest, but she doesn’t pull away. I finally break the kiss and look into her eyes.
"I'm sorry," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you immediately that I was Virgilio."
Zoe’s eyes search mine, and she takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "Are you ready to tell me everything now?"
I nod slowly. This moment is long overdue. "Yes," I say firmly. "But you have to promise me something first."
She furrows her brows slightly but doesn't break eye contact. "What is it?"
"Promise me you won't run away from me," I plead, my voice raw with the fear of losing her again.
Zoe nods resolutely. "I promise. I won't run away."
I take a deep breath, feeling Zoe's eyes on me, waiting. "Growing up, my father wasn't just a criminal; he was a monster," I start, my voice rough. "His empire was built on fear and brutality. Every day was a lesson in survival. There was no room for weakness."
Zoe’s fingers tighten around mine, her blue eyes softening with empathy. I find the strength to continue, her silent support grounding me.
"My brother Dante and I... we were put through hell," I say, recalling the endless drills and harsh punishments. "We were trained to fight from the moment we could walk. Our father believed that pain made us stronger. He was wrong. It just made us numb."
Zoe’s thumb brushes over my knuckles, a gentle reminder that I’m not alone at this moment. "Tell me more about Dante," she urges softly.
"Dante... he was my protector," I say, my voice breaking slightly at the memory. "He took the brunt of our father's wrath so many times. Then, when I was seventeen, our father went too far. He wanted to hit me with a chair, but Dante stepped in front of me. The blow... it put him in a coma for four months."
Zoe gasps quietly, her eyes widening with horror. "Oh my God, Virgilio..."
"When he woke up," I continue, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat, "he didn’t remember anything—not even our mother. She took him away to give him a new life with better memories, but I had to stay behind as a spy for the Camorra. It was part of the deal to get them out."
"That must have been unbearable," Zoe whispers.
"It was," I admit. "Every day felt like an eternity. But knowing Dante was safe... it gave me the strength to endure." I glance at Zoe. "And having you in my life, Zoe, was the only bright spot in those dark times."
Zoe’s grip on my hands tightens, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Virgilio, no one should have to go through what you did… you deserved so much better than what you got."
I nod slowly, the pain of those years still fresh but somehow lessened by her presence. "Maybe," I murmur, "but now... now I have you."
Zoe’s eyes fall on the scars visible on my arms and neck. “Tell me about these,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
I let out a bitter chuckle, the sound harsh and empty. “These are from the explosion that, ironically enough, saved me.”
She traces one of the scars lightly with her fingertips, her touch gentle yet grounding. “What happened?” she asks softly.
The memories flood back, pulling me into a past that I can never fully escape.
The inside of the remote warehouse on the outskirts of the city is dark and dusty, the faint smell of gasoline clings to the air like a curse.
I’m running through the warehouse, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Every muscle in my body screams for relief, but I can’t stop. Not now. Not when I’m so close to getting out. The bomb is ticking down, each second a death toll in my ears.
Then I hear it—the deafening roar of the explosion behind me. The force of the blast propels me forward, throwing me to the ground like a rag doll. Intense heat sears my skin as flames consume everything around me. My vision blurs from the sheer pain coursing through my body.
I can’t move.
I try to push myself up, but my arms refuse to cooperate. The smoke chokes me with every breath I take. My eyes sting as I struggle to keep them open, desperate to find an escape route amidst the inferno.
Why did it have to come to this?
Images flash through my mind—Dante’s face as he lay in that hospital bed, Zoe’s smile as she talked about her dreams, our mother’s desperate eyes as she pleaded for me to stay strong. Each memory is a dagger to my heart, reminding me of everything I stand to lose.
The pain is excruciating, but it’s nothing compared to the thought of never seeing them again.
I have to survive.
With sheer force of will, I manage to roll onto my side. My hands find purchase on the rough concrete floor, and I drag myself forward inch by agonizing inch. The flames licking at my heels are a painful reminder that time is running out.
Every movement sends waves of agony through me, but I grit my teeth and push on. The exit is close—I can see the faint outline of the door through the haze of smoke and fire.
Just a little further.
My vision starts to tunnel as darkness edges in from all sides. I force myself to focus on that door, on the freedom just beyond my reach.
I can’t give up now.
The smoke fills my lungs, each breath a burning reminder of my failing body. My muscles scream for relief, but I can’t stop. I try to keep crawling away. The heat is unbearable. My vision blurs, and the world around me starts to fade into a haze of smoke and pain.
This is it, I think. This is the end.
A mixture of fear and resignation settles over me. I close my eyes, accepting my fate. Images flash through my mind—Dante’s face, our mother’s desperate eyes.
I’m sorry, I silently apologize to them all.
Darkness begins to overtake me, a heavy shroud pulling me under. But then, through the smoke and flames, I see a figure approaching. At first, it’s just a shadow moving through the inferno, but as it gets closer, the shape becomes clearer.
It’s him—my mother’s bodyguard, the man who saved her.
He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches me.
With surprising gentleness, he lifts my limp body onto his shoulders. The sudden movement sends a fresh wave of agony through me, but I can’t muster the strength to cry out. My vision tunnels further as darkness presses in from all sides.
Stay awake, I tell myself desperately. Stay alive.
But it’s too late. My strength fails me entirely as consciousness slips away. The last thing I see before succumbing to the void is the resolute expression on his face.
And then there is nothing but darkness.