Chapter 2
DANTE
T he sterile smell of the clinic was a constant reminder that life had taken a turn I hadn’t expected. I sat in the small, uncomfortable examination room, my hands clenched together in my lap. The doctor’s words echoed in my mind, a relentless drumbeat that made it hard to focus on anything else. Multiple Sclerosis. The diagnosis felt like a cruel twist of fate, something I’d read about but never expected to face myself.
Dr. Harris was a tall, composed man with glasses that perched on the edge of his nose. He walked in, carrying a folder, his face serious but not unkind. I could tell he had delivered this kind of news many times before, but that didn’t make it any easier for me.
“Mr. DeLuca,” Dr. Harris began, taking a seat across from me. “We’ve reviewed your test results. The findings confirm that you have Multiple Sclerosis. I’m sorry to be the bearer of this news.”
I nodded, trying to absorb the weight of his words. “How serious is it?” I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil rolling inside me.
Dr. Harris took a deep breath. “MS affects everyone differently. It’s a progressive condition. While there are treatments that can help manage symptoms and slow progression, it’s a chronic illness that will require ongoing care. We’ll need to start a treatment plan and monitor your condition closely.”
I stared at the floor, my mind racing. The diagnosis felt like a sentence I hadn’t bargained for. I wasn’t even clear of thirty yet, with so much left to do—so many dreams and goals. The thought of my body betraying me, of facing a harsh future, was almost too much to bear.
“You mentioned treatment,” I said finally, forcing myself to focus on the positives. “What does that involve?”
“We’ll start with disease-modifying therapies,” Dr. Harris explained. “These can help reduce the frequency and severity of relapses. We’ll also discuss lifestyle changes and supportive therapies to help you manage symptoms.”
I nodded again, trying to absorb the information. “And what about the future?” I asked. “What can I expect?”
Dr. Harris’s expression softened. “It’s difficult to predict how things will progress. Some people live relatively normal lives with MS, while others experience more severe symptoms. It’s important to focus on managing your health and planning for the future.”
As Dr. Harris continued to explain the details of treatment and management, my thoughts drifted. I had always been the responsible one, the one who kept his distance from my paternal family’s darker side. I knew about my siblings—Beniamino, Massimo, Tammaro, and Martina. They were all part of the crime family I’d deliberately avoided. I’d seen enough of the chaos and corruption that came with our father’s legacy. I didn’t want to be part of that world. It was better to be on the outside, focusing on my career as a general surgeon and keeping my life clean and orderly.
But now, facing this new challenge, the idea of remaining isolated from my family felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford. I’d spent years distancing myself from the DeLucas, avoiding any affiliation with our father’s criminal empire. My only concern had been maintaining my own integrity and avoiding any entanglements. Yet here I was, grappling with a condition that made me question everything, including why I’d never started my own family.
Dr. Harris’s voice brought me back to the present. “Are you okay, Mr. DeLuca? You seem a bit distant.”
I shook my head, trying to refocus. “I’m fine. Just processing everything.”
“Of course,” Dr. Harris said. “If you need to talk or have any questions about your diagnosis or treatment, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
As I left the clinic, the weight of the news settled heavily on my shoulders. I felt a profound sense of loneliness and a growing realization that I needed something I’d avoided for so long—family. My own legacy. I wanted to leave behind something meaningful, something pure, before it was too late. The idea of starting a family, of having someone to share my life with, was no longer just a distant thought. It was a necessity.
I pulled out my phone and stared at the contact list. I hadn’t spoken to my siblings in years, but now, with my health in question, maybe it was time to reconsider. I didn’t know how much time I had left, but I knew one thing—I couldn’t face it alone.
I drove to my grandmother’s house, my hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. I hadn’t shared my diagnosis with anyone yet, but I knew she deserved to know and it needed to come from me.She's always been there for me, like a solid rock in the middle of a hurricane that sometimes feels like our family life.
As I walked up the familiar path to her front door, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. I rang the bell and waited, trying to ignore the churning anxiety in my stomach. When the door opened and I saw her frail figure standing there, her eyes lit up with recognition and concern.
“Dante!” She exclaimed, pulling me into a warm embrace. “What brings you here?”
I stepped inside, and we settled in her cozy living room. The scent of lavender and old books filled the air, a comforting reminder of my childhood. I took her hands in mine, trying to find the right words.
“Grandma,” I began, my voice wavering slightly. “I went to the doctor. He diagnosed with me Multiple Sclerosis.”
Her eyes widened in shock, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my dear boy… I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she reached out to me, her hands trembling.
I moved closer and wrapped my arms around her. “It’s okay, Grandma. I’m still processing it myself.”
She clung to me, her sobs quiet but heartfelt. “I should be comforting you, not the other way around. My poor Dante…”
I stroked her hair gently, trying to offer warmth despite my own turmoil. “I’m okay. I need to be strong, not just for myself, but for you and for the future.”
After a moment, she pulled back slightly then looked at me with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “What are you going to do, Dante? Have you thought about what comes next?”
I nodded, a determined glint in my eye. “Actually, I have. I want a wife and a child. I want to build a family, leave behind something meaningful.”
Her eyes softened with understanding. “That’s a good idea. But how are you going to accomplish that, especially now?”
I sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resolve. “I’m not entirely sure yet. But I’m determined to figure it out. I know it won’t be easy, but I need to make this happen.”
We talked a little more about the future, the hope and the uncertainty. It was comforting to share my plans with her, even if they felt a bit naive in the face of the reality of my illness. As I left her house, I felt a strange mix of clarity and confusion.
Just as I reached my car, I noticed another vehicle pulling up. It was an unfamiliar luxury car, and as the door opened, I saw a man stepping out. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized him—Beniamino DeLuca. I hadn’t expected to see him here.
Beniamino approached me with a confident stride. “Dante DeLuca?” he called out.
I walked over to him, trying to mask my surprise. “That’s right. I know who you are, but I'm surprised that you know who I am. What are you doing here?”
“We have family business to discuss,” Beniamino said, his tone serious but not unkind. “I need you to come with me.”
I glanced at the car and noticed another man inside.
Beniamino nodded towards it. “That’s Tammaro, our brother. I assume you know about him as well?”
I nodded, wondering what the hell they wanted. Pissed at their timing.
“We’ll discuss the details there.” He said.
I hesitated for a moment before getting into the car. The ride was filled with an uneasy silence as we drove to a more private location. Once we arrived, Beniamino turned to me.
“I know this isn’t what you expected,” Beniamino began. “But I have an opportunity for you. It’s not just about family business—it’s about your future.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what’s that?” I knew he had no idea about my future or how fucking grim it was.
Beniamino’s gaze was steady. “We need you to marry someone. It’s part of an arrangement agreement our father signed years ago.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Then I frowned, trying to wrap my head around this. “You come out of nowhere asking me to keep a promise that your father made. What makes you think I’d be interested in this?”
Beniamino’s expression was serious but not unkind. “I understand this might come as a surprise. We've never met, and I'm asking you to do this. Our father’s arrangement is still in place, and it’s crucial we follow through. Besides, he's your father, too.”
I studied him closely. “So, you’re telling me you’ve come all this way to enforce a family arrangement I wasn’t even aware of until now? As far as Tommaso is concerned, he was never a father to me.”
Beniamino nodded. “Same. This is about honoring what was set up years ago to avoid a war today. I know you probably don't care about anything I'm saying and that's okay. This is less about him and more about what we're trying to build now without him.”
I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of uncertainty and reluctant hope. “Alright, I’m listening. What’s involved in this arrangement?”
Beniamino’s eyes softened slightly. “We’ll go over the details and what’s required. It’s an opportunity to secure a future for yourself and ensure the arrangement is fulfilled. It could also save a woman and a little girl's life.”
“I'm listening.” I leaned forward, waiting for the information.
When Beniamino explained the situation to me, I knew I was in. The predicament called for a hail Mary and I was her saving grace. Maybe she could save me too. Because this was a coincidence. She needed me and this was an opportunity for me to get what I wanted too. I'd call this a win, even if I had to lay claim to a legacy I didn't want to be a part of.