Chapter Fifteen #2
He glances back to Isaak who’s been watching us both silently. It’s clear that they’re both in sync, the unspoken communication passing between them like a private language.
I can’t help but tremble at the intensity of their eyes on me. It seems like they’re measuring every word, and every moment of mine, trying to decide if I’m telling the truth, or if I’m hiding something from them.
I am telling the truth, and I’m not hiding anything.
Alessandro leans back into the sofa, sighing deeply, his posture relaxing just a fraction.
“We’ll sort this out.” He tells me. “But understand this, Chiara, no harm will come to you while I am here.”
I nod at him, releasing a shaky breath.
Isaak continues watching me intently, saying nothing, his silence heavy in this room.
The air between us becomes thick with unspoken understanding.
As I sit there, feeling more and more restless, I can’t help but think of my family—of Papa, of Dario—wondering how much longer it will be before I see them again.
Alessandro seems to catch the shift in my expression, his gaze locking with mine. He doesn’t wait for me to say anything before he speaks again.
“Your family…Francesco and Dario…they will be here soon.”
My chest tightens, almost as if all the air has been knocked out of me.
I can't breathe, my lungs unable to take in enough air, as I press my palm hard against my stomach.
Tears immediately prick at my eyes, blurring my vision as I swallow hard, fighting to keep control.
It doesn’t work.
Tears fall freely, spilling over my eyes, running down my cheeks.
“I just want to hold them.”
I breathe out, almost to myself, the words tumbling out of me.
The thought of being wrapped in Papa’s warm embrace with my brother’s strong arms wrapped around me makes me smile softly.
Alessandro watches me, unmoving as I struggle to control my emotions.
The anticipation of finally seeing them again makes every second feel like an eternity.
I close my eyes briefly, trying to steady myself, but even then, the tears keep flowing.
I can’t stop them.
I can’t hold back the flood.
“Everything will be alright, Chiara.”
Alessandro says, his voice confident, almost like a promise.
I nod my head at him.
Time passes as the two men speak to each other, involving me too whenever needed, as the minutes stretch into what feels like hours.
Throughout it all, I only think about what’s to come.
My family.
They’re coming for me.
But with that thought, another one, one which features a pair of Russian twin brothers, appears in mind.
I find it a little harder to breathe, to fill my lungs with air.
How will Papa react?
How will Dario react?
A lump appears in my throat.
How will Nikolai react?
How will Mikhail react?
Finally, there’s a knock at the door, and the heavy sound of it makes my heart skip a beat.
A man enters—Russian, a soldier—as he bows his head when he approaches Isaak.
“Pakhan.” He says. “The men are here. Should we bring them to this room?”
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
They’re here.
Papa.
Dario.
My family.
Isaak nods slowly, his cold, authoritative demeanour taking over.
My heart flutters slightly as I realise that this isn’t the way Isaak was with me. He was much softer, much more fatherly.
“Bring them here.”
Isaak says, his voice firm.
The man nods, turning as he leaves the room. Every step towards the door is a step closer to me reuniting with my family again.
And before I can even take another breath, they’re here.
Papa.
Dario.
I can’t believe it.
I blink, and they’re still standing there, just as I remember them—yet somehow, they’re different.
Older.
More worn.
More determined.
My father, standing tall and strong, with sharp features, and an intensity that I’ve always known. His eyes, so dark and fierce, bore into mine, and for a moment, neither one of us move.
Dario, my big brother, steps beside Papa.
His broad shoulders and muscular frame nearly fill the doorway.
His face is a little older now, his jaw sharper, but his eyes—the ones which I grew up with, the ones which would comfort me when I was younger—are full of worry and concern.
His gaze lingers on me, just as intense as my father’s, but there’s a vulnerability there.
And in that moment, all the dread, the fear, and the uncertainty, melts away, replaced with a rush of warmth and love I never thought I would ever receive from my family again.
I stand up, taking steps towards them, when my knees buckle, unable to hold myself up any longer. I’m about to collapse to the floor when my brother is suddenly there, catching me, wrapping his strong arms around me, pulling me into him with such a great force.
“Chiara.” my big brother whispers, his voice so rough, almost as if he’s fighting back tears too. “You’re alive. You’re alive.”
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
All I can do is let myself melt into him, taking in the warmth of his embrace.
And then, Papa is here too.
His hands grip my shoulders, asking me to look over at him, and as I do, his gaze softens.
“Papa.”
I somehow manage to choke out, the word barely escaping my lips before my voice breaks.
His hands tremble as he helps me stand, pulling me closer, wrapping me in an embrace that feels like the safety I’ve been longing for. His voice is thick with emotion as he speaks.
“Chiara…my daughter…you’re alive.”
I can’t hold back the sobs any more.
They pour out from me, uncontrollable, a mix of both relief, and exhaustion.
I bury my head between their bodies, feeling the strength of them both holding me up.
They’re here.
They’re really here.
In their arms, I allow myself to fall apart, tears streaming down my face as I cling on to them, not caring about anything else.
Both Papa and Dario speak to me softly, their voices soothing and steady. They reassure me time and time again, their hands stroking the back of my hair as they keep me close.
“Chiara.” Papa says once more. “You are safe now. You are safe, and we are not leaving without you.”
Dario’s grip tightens around me, and I can feel his heart beating through his chest.
“We’re taking you home, Chiara. I promise you, we’re going home. We’re here now, and you’re safe with us.”
I can’t respond, not to Papa, or to Dario.
Tears flood my eyes, and every breath I take is ragged, my chest hitching with sobs that I can no longer control.
I want to say something—anything—but the words just don’t come.
I just want to hold onto them, to never let them go.
I'm shaking, my body trembling in their embrace.
They. Are. Here.
Papa places his hand on my back, steady and firm, grounding me. His voice, now thick with emotion, is one I’ve missed.
“We are here with you, Chiara, sì? We will keep you safe.”
Dario’s voice is softer, but equally just as warm too.
“You've been so strong.” He murmurs into my hair. “I’m so sorry it took so long, Chiara, but we’re here now. We’ll fix this.”
I nod, my face now buried in his chest, and even though the tears don’t stop, the weight in my chest lightens.
I’m holding onto them like I’m afraid they might disappear.
With every word, every whisper of comfort, they reassure me that I’m not alone—that I’ll never be alone again.