Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Alessio
T he sterile smell of the hospital fills the air, heavy and suffocating. I sit in the plastic chair beside Sophia's bed, the constant beep of the heart monitor, the only sound keeping me tethered to the reality of what's happening. Her body is still, the sheets pulled up to her chest, her breathing shallow but steady.
I can't remember how long I've been sitting here, waiting for her to open her eyes, for her to come back to me. The pain in my chest is a constant, gnawing ache, and I can't escape it.
It's been six days since the shootout happened. Six days of me waiting for her to open her eyes so I can tell her that I love her, tell her that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.
I am not a praying man, but I have found myself praying every prayer under the sun that will help wake her. I cannot fail her father again.
The door creaks open behind me, and I don't need to turn to know it's Matteo. He's been here every day, checking in on both of us, though I don't think he really knows how to comfort me. None of them do.
"Any change?" Matteo asks softly as he approaches the bed.
I shake my head, my jaw tight. "No. Still nothing."
He pulls up a chair and sits down across from me, his expression solemn. I can tell he's been through his own version of hell over the past few days, but he's holding it together. He always does.
"I know you're worried," Matteo says. "But she's strong. She's going to pull through. You've seen how tough she is."
I turn my head slowly, my eyes narrowing at him. "You think I don't know that? You think I haven't seen how strong she is? But I watched her fall. I heard her say my name, and I thought I lost her."
Matteo leans forward, his expression understanding but firm. "I know. And you're angry. You're scared. But she'll come back to you. She's still fighting."
I clench my fists, my eyes returning to Sophia's unconscious form. "She has to. She's the only thing that matters now. Everything else—everything else is just noise."
Matteo takes a deep breath, his gaze flicking over to the hospital window, where the city outside looks so normal, so far removed from the chaos we've just been through.
"We've got to deal with what happens next, Alessio. The Russians are going to be trouble. The head of their family... Maksim died in the shootout. There's going to be fallout. They want retribution."
I don't want to talk about the families. I don't want to think about what's coming next. All I can think about is Sophia. I look at her, her pale face, her lips slightly parted as if she might speak any moment.
"Don't do that," Matteo says gently. "Don't shut me out. You have to think about the future. You have to think about her future."
I close my eyes, rubbing a hand over my face. "I can't think about anything but her right now. Nothing else matters."
Matteo is quiet for a long moment, and I can tell he's choosing his words carefully. "We're in this together, you know. This doesn't stop just because she's unconscious. We have to keep moving, keep the families in check."
I don't say anything. I can't focus on the families right now. Not with Sophia like this.
Matteo watches me for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Then he stands, pushing his chair back. "We'll get through this."
I nod without looking at him. I don't want to hear it. I just want her to wake up.
Matteo lingers for a moment, his eyes flicking to Sophia. He gives me a small, tight-lipped smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He knows this isn't over yet.
"I'll be back. I have to go and set up some patrols. Do you need anything?"
I shake my head.
He exits, leaving me alone with Sophia. The room feels even quieter now.
I stand, my legs stiff from sitting for so long. I move to the side of her bed, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her skin is cold, her breathing shallow but steady. The fear rises again, the sickening thought that she might not wake up, that I might lose her.
I lean forward, my lips brushing her forehead, and whisper, "Please come back to me, Sophia. I can't do this without you. I need you. Please."
I wait for a response that doesn't come. I can feel the weight of my words hanging in the air. But still, she doesn't wake.
I don't know how long I sit there, watching her, waiting for the moment she opens her eyes, but it feels like hours. Time is cruel when you're waiting for someone to come back to you.
And then, suddenly, I feel it.
Her fingers twitch.
I freeze. My breath catches in my throat as I lean closer, holding my breath. Her eyes move open—slowly at first, like she's fighting to stay awake. And then, I see it.
Sophia's eyes focus on me, and she blinks, as if unsure whether what she's seeing is real.
"Alessio?" Her voice is weak, barely above a whisper, but it's enough to bring me to my knees beside her.
Tears spring to my eyes, and I can't help myself as I reach for her hand. "Sophia, you're awake. You're really awake."
She gives me a faint, pained smile, and I feel my heart leap in my chest.
"I thought I lost you," I whisper heavy with emotion. "I couldn't?—"
She squeezes my hand weakly. "I'm here, Alessio. I'm not going anywhere."
And at that moment, I believe her. The weight in my chest lifts, and I feel the relief that I haven't felt in days.
She's back.