CHAPTER XXV
T he cold winter air seemed to creep into the room, matching the chill in my heart as I glanced out the window, my gaze fixed on the falling snowflakes.
My eyes wandered to the right, landing on the white roses perched on the windowsill, courtesy of Nico. I remembered the first time he gave me roses and the handwritten note he left behind. It was a reminder that there was no escaping him.
I let out a sigh and glanced toward the clock hanging on the wall above the television.
An hour had passed since Nico’s departure, and what the nurse said about him never once leaving my side while I was unconscious echoed in my mind.
It should have sent warmth fluttering through my heart, but it just enraged me even more.
My emotions were torn between anger and a desperate need for comfort.
One minute I wanted to kick him in the dick, and the other to fall into his arms.
But he fucking betrayed me, treating me as if I were one of his enemies. I guess our love wasn’t strong enough to withstand what he’d done. How could he possibly think we could just pick up where we left off as if nothing had happened? The audacity of that man was staggering.
Someone knocked at the door, and when it opened, a familiar face brought a smile to my lips.
“Hi, Enzo.”
He grinned. “Can I come in?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
He walked into the room and settled beside my bed. I couldn’t help but notice how different he looked. Gone was the guard uniform, replaced by fitted jeans, a crisp dress shirt, and a leather jacket.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” I replied, forcing a small smile.
He nodded, a solemn expression crossing his features.
“What’s going on? Did you find…Massimo?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not yet, but we’re doing everything we can to track him down.”
I let out a heavy sigh, sinking my head back into the pillow. I was so ready for this nightmare to end, to start piecing my life back together.
“Gigi. There is something you need to know and I would rather you hear it from me.”
When a conversation begins with “there is something you need to know,” it rarely leads to anything good. “What is it?” I inquired with hesitation.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself for my reaction. When he opened them, he said, “I’m not Nico’s guard.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
He ran a hand down his face, clearly feeling the weight of what he was about to tell me. “I’m an FBI agent with RICO. I’ve been working undercover to expose Mayor Walsh and his illicit activities.”
“You’re… you’re serious?” I felt the ground shift beneath me. “You were a spy?”
“Not exactly,” he clarified quickly. “Working for Nico was my only way into that world and my best shot at getting close to Walsh and shut down his operation.”
My thoughts swirled as I tried to process the news. Enzo...Nico’s guard was an undercover FBI agent?
A beat passed, then two, then I let out a soft, “Wow.” Because, honestly, I was at a loss for words.
Suddenly, his change in clothing made complete sense. But then, my mind jumped back to Nico. The fact that Enzo was still standing and still breathing was surprising, which raised the question to be asked. “Does Nico know?”
He nodded.
“How did Nico take the news?” I asked.
He let out a relieved chuckle. “Not well, but… well, we’re trying to make it work for your sake.”
Enzo shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping to the floor as he spoke again, his voice softer this time.“I’m so sorry for what you been through, and about your baby.”
I shut my eyes tightly, trying to contain the wave of emotions crashing over me. The memory of my baby being taken from me would forever be etched into my soul, a pain that would take years to recover from.
“Gigi, I need you to know that I genuinely cared about you and always had your best interests at heart,” he added, sincerity shining in his eyes. “That hasn’t changed.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
Then, unexpectedly, he pulled me into his arms, and I broke down. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I wept for my lost child and all the suffering my family had endured.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here,” Enzo murmured repeatedly, holding me gently.
Eventually, I pulled away, offering him a watery smile. “I’ll be okay.”
He searched my eyes intently, as if seeking the reassurance he needed, and after a moment, he finally nodded
“Can I get you anything?” he offered. “Water?”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I actually have a question.”
His response was immediate. “You can ask me anything.”
“Is Serafina okay? I haven’t seen her yet, nor has anyone mentioned her. Could you find out for me?” I implored, hoping for any news that might ease my worry. “Gigi, I—” Before he could finish, another knock echoed against the door.
A tall, commanding figure entered, his presence filling the room with an air of sophistication and warmth. His dark eyes, so similar to mine, held a depth of emotion as he spoke.
“Hi, Gigi. You have your mother’s beauty.” His voice, rich and smooth, carried a hint of an Italian accent.
My throat constricted as I searched his face, finding echoes of myself in his features. “My mother?”
His eyes, so like my own, bore into mine. “And you… you have my eyes,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“I told you to wait for my signal.” Enzo glared at the man.
The man turned to him and said, “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“What’s going on?” I interjected, my eyes bouncing between them.
The man moved closer, his gaze locked onto mine.
“May I?” He gestured to the empty chair opposite of Enzo.
I nodded, my breath catching as he sat.
“Gigi,” Enzo said softly. I turned to him, confused. “This is what I was going to tell you. But it’s better if it comes from him.” Enzo stood, glancing at the man, then back to me.
“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Then he faced me again. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”
I nodded, and he stepped out, but not before giving the man another look.
“I had no knowledge of your existence until recently,” the man confessed. “But now that I’ve found you, I want to make up for lost time.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I didn’t expect us to meet like this,” he replied, his eyes glistening. “But I hope you’ll give me a chance and let me be a part of your life.”
I blinked in confusion. “Are you a relative of ours?”
He looked down, his expression laden with regret. “My name is Alphonso Gambino.” His voice cracked. “I am your biological father.”
My mother’s words come back to me. He didn’t know about you. Find your father; he will protect you.
My breath caught in my throat as I tried to process his words. “What? Are you sure?”
A soft chuckle escaped him, though it was tinged with sadness. “I’m one hundred percent certain.”
“She wrote about you in her letters. She said I could trust you,” I whispered.
“You can trust me.” His expression turned solemn, and his eyes were glistening. “Your mother was an amazing woman. I am so sorry about her loss. And I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
I gave him a small smile as tears fell down my cheeks. “Me too.”
He wiped the tears away and cupped my cheek. “I loved you even when I didn’t know you, and I will spend the rest of my days loving you more. I will protect you. No harm will ever come to you again.”
Feeling the warmth of his hand against my skin, I inhaled deeply, noticing the spicy scent of his cologne. I closed my eyes, letting the world around me fade away, yet my mind raced with unanswered questions.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
He drew back slightly when my eyes fluttered open. “Dante and Nico flew to Italy the moment they discovered you were missing. That’s how I uncovered the truth about your mother and found out about you. I still don’t know if I like Nico,” he admitted.
A soft giggle escaped me, but it quickly turned into a wince as sharp pain shot through my ribs.
“Are you alright? Should I call the doctor?” he asked, his eyes wide with worry.
I bit my lip, willing myself not to cry. “No, it’s fine. I’m okay,” I assured him, my heart aching from more than just the physical pain.
In that brief moment, an enveloping silence settled around us that felt both heavy and strangely comforting.
“There was someone else in the cell with me,” I said. “Valarie. Mom’s sister.” My lips quivered. “I think they killed her.”
He stood up and carefully wrapped me into his arms. I cried against his shoulder, welcoming his fatherly affection.
“I’m so sorry you had to endure that.” He pulled away and sat back on the chair, holding my hand in his. “But Gigi, Valarie is alive.”
“She’s alive?”
He flashed a warm smile. “Yes, though it was touch-and-go, but she’s here in this hospital and has been asking for you.”
“Can I see her?” I asked, my face breaking into a wide grin that stretched from ear to ear.
“Of course, but can I have more time with you? I just found out you’re my daughter,” he replied gently.
The thought of spending more time together filled me with a sense of peace.
“Does this mean I can start asking you a million of get-to-know-you questions?” I teased.
He chuckled. “Ask away.”
“Are you married? Do you have kids?” I blurted out.
He smiled. “No, and no. No other woman could hold a candle to your mother.”
That sent a flutter of warmth to my chest.
“My turn,” he said, stretching wider as he settled into a comfortable position. “I heard you play the violin. Is that true?”
His question caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless. How could he possibly know? My brow furrowed. “Yes, I do. But how…?” I let the question hang in the air, then added. “Do you play?”
He crossed his leg over the other, his hand loosely clasped around his ankle. “I play the piano.”
“Really?“ A smile broke across my face. “Mom played the violin and the piano too.”
Alphonse’s eyes drifted, a subtle smile gracing his lips. He nodded slowly. “I know. I taught her how to play.”
“I remember her telling me that someone special taught her how to play, and she wanted to pass that knowledge on to me,” I said, the memory bringing a rush of bittersweet nostalgia.
The corners of his mouth drooped, his smile melting into an expression of profound sadness.
“Looking at you now, how beautiful you’ve grown.
.. I missed out on so much. I wasn’t there for your first steps, your birthdays, every holiday celebration, and each of your violin recitals.
” He paused, the weight of his words hanging between us.
“It’s a regret I will carry for the rest of my life. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me,” he said, the words catching in his throat.
Hearing his raw honesty broke something deep inside me.
My own lips trembled, and I had to swallow hard before I could speak.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I said honestly.
“I now understand the life you and Mom were born into. You did what you needed to do to keep her safe, to keep me safe. I’ll forever be thankful for the time I had with Mom, but I also wish you’d been there to make memories with us. ”
“That starts today,” he declared with unshakeable conviction.
I turned my gaze away, wrestling with my emotions as I fought to keep from shattering into a puddle of despair.
“Was she happy?” he asked, drawing my focus back to him.
I offered a genuine smile. “I think she was for the most part, but a part of me always felt there was always something missing. And now I know why.”
It was him. My father was everything to my mother, based on the letters she left behind.
The light returned to his face at my words. I could see how much she meant to him.
“Thank you for coming for me.”
“I would do anything for you.”
And I believed him.