Chapter Eighteen #2
“I get it.” I say, my tone softer now, though I’m not sure why I’m even bothering.
I should splatter his brains against our walls, but I don’t think my beauty would be too happy to hear of her brother’s fatal end.
“You love Chiara. You want to protect Chiara.” His jaw tightens.
“Don’t you realise that we do too?” Dario flinches at that, his mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know how to respond.
“She wasn’t taken to be hurt, Dario.” I continue, my voice firm.
“You can ask her yourself when she’s up—she’s happy with us.
She’s said it herself. Do you think it would be better to leave her out there, so defenceless and unprotected? ”
Dario’s eyes narrow, his fists clenching again.
“Don’t act like you did my sister a favour!” He snaps. “You dragged her into this chaos!”
The tension rises between us.
Our father’s voice rumbles behind us, a low warning, but I ignore it.
“She’s alive, isn’t she?” Nikolai says coldly, his words slicing through the air. “There was no protection, and no security in that place of hers. Would you rather somebody else have taken her?”
Dario’s breath hitches.
For a second, I see the crack in his armour. He doesn’t know how to answer that question.
“Chiara is safe with us.” I repeat once again. “And she’ll stay safe, as long as we’re here.”
Dario shakes his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“My sister doesn’t belong here.” He mutters under his breath, his voice breaking. “Chiara belongs with us; her family.”
I don’t respond to that.
There’s nothing I can say that will make him believe me, but I know that Chiara will be able to say plenty.
Behind us, Otets’ voice cuts through the silence, sharp and commanding.
“Enough.” He says as he takes a step forward. “This isn’t the time for fighting.”
Dario glares at Nikolai and I for a moment longer before he steps back, his chest still heaving.
Beside me, Nikolai relaxes slightly, though his gaze remains locked on Dario.
Together, we continue walking through the hallway towards the room where Chiara is resting.
And as soon as we take a step inside, the room falls into an uneasy silence, the tension still crackling in the air.
I glance over at Francesco who is sitting beside Chiara’s sleeping figure, his hand on her head as if she’s the only thing that’s grounding him right now.
My chest tightens as I look at Chiara, then back to Nikolai.
I don’t know how we’re ever going to make this work.
“Francesco.” Otets says as he takes a step further into the room. “How is she today?”
There’s a moment of silence before he replies.
“She is good. She woke up a little while ago.” He pauses, swallowing hard, then looks to Nikolai and I. “She asked for your sons…she asked for Nikolai and Mikhail.”
Immediately, my chest swells, warmth unfurling from somewhere deep, filling me with a rush so intense it almost steals my breath.
She asked for my brother.
She asked for me.
His words echo in my head, sounding so sweet and so disbelieving.
My lips curve into a smile that I don’t bother to hide, and as I look over at Nikolai, I spot the same expression on his face.
We both look towards the bed Chiara is currently laying in, relief spreading through my body.
When she wakes up, I’ll be sure to show her just how damn happy hearing that has made me.
And that’s when I hear it—a soft, broken whisper.
I watch Francesco lean down, his ear close to her lips as she whispers something, then he pulls away slightly to whisper something of his own into her ears. His words are too quiet for me to make out what he’s saying.
Chiara stirs in the bed, a faint moan escaping her as her eyelashes begin to flutter.
My chest tightens at the sound, and the way her face pinches with confusion and exhaustion as she slowly blinks herself awake.
This is different to all those times in the previous three days.
This is more.
Her gaze is unfocused at first, her eyelids heavy like she’s still caught between sleep and consciousness. Then her eyes start to move, darting all around the room, searching.
“Dario?” She murmurs, her voice hoarse. “Where are you?”
He moves at once, his face softening as he crouches beside her.
“I’m here, Chiara.” He says, his tone unrecognisably gentle. “I’m right here.”
She reaches out for her brother, her fingers wrapping around his hand as she fights to sit up.
My mouth runs dry as I watch her move, noticing how pale she looks after so many days of resting, and how tired her eyes seem.
But she’s still as beautiful as ever, even like this.
She touches him all over, her hands over his arms, his face, as she lets out a shaky gasp, her lips trembling.
“You’re okay.” she whispers. “You’re really okay, Dario.”
As he nods at her, Nikolai and I move closer to the bed too, though we stop a few steps away, just far enough to avoid crossing whatever invisible line separates us from her family.
“Chiara.” I say softly. “You’re awake. You’re safe.”
Her head swivels towards me, her eyes locking with mine.
The way she looks at me—wide eyed, almost pleading—makes it hard to breathe.
“Mikhail.” She says, her voice barely a whisper. Then her gaze shifts to my brother, and I feel him grow tense beside me. “Nikolai. You both are really here?”
He doesn’t say anything to her at first, he just gives her a small, sharp nod.
His face is as stoic as ever, but I know my brother.
I see the way his jaw tightens, and the way his hands twitch at his sides like he wants to reach out for her, but doesn’t know if he should with the tension that’s only rising in this room.
“We’re here.” He finally says. “We’re not going anywhere, darling.”
Chiara closes her eyes for a second, her lips parting as she releases a heavy breath.
When she opens them again, the room feels smaller as both Nikolai and I stare at her, and her only.
Dario stands abruptly, his eyes blazing as he glares in our direction.
“Stay back!” He snaps, his voice still sharp and defensive. “Chiara doesn’t need you both crowding her space right now.”
I stiffen at his tone, my hands curling into fists by my sides almost immediately.
My initial reaction is to say something back, to start an argument so I can throw punches and show him who he’s really talking to, but I don’t.
Not now when Chiara has finally woken up properly, and not now when she’s looking at me like that.
Right now, the only thing she needs is reassurance, and definitely not more chaos.
“We’re not crowding her.” Nikolai says quietly, though there’s a cold edge to his words. “We’re making sure that she's okay.”
Dario doesn’t hesitate to bite back, moving from the bed as he steps in front of it, almost shielding Chiara as if we’re some kind of threat to her.
“You both have done enough already.”
I almost laugh in his face.
Behind him, I watch Francesco shift as he murmurs something again to Chiara. She shakes her head, and that’s when I notice how tense he quickly becomes.
“Dario.” Chiara whispers in a shaky voice. “It’s okay. Please let them see me.”
His shoulders drop slightly, but he does turn around to look back at her.
“Chiara…”
Our princess isn’t hearing any of it.
“I’m okay.” Her voice wavers slightly as she glances between her brother, Nikolai, and myself. “I really am, Dario.”
And with those words, Nikolai takes a cautious step forward.
“You passed out a few days ago.” He starts saying, watching the way her expression changes with every word. “Do you remember much?”
Chiara blinks at him, her eyebrows drawing together.
“I…I’m not too sure. I remember meeting Papa and Dario, and I remember before—” She glances between us both, a soft blush appearing on her cheeks. “—With the three of us together. I can't remember much after that.”
I take a deep breath in, trying to push down the swirl of emotions that are threatening to choke me.
“That’s okay, Chiara.” I say softly. “We’re here to help you remember.”
Her lips twitch into a faint, fleeting smile, and for a moment, the tension in the room seems to ease.
But then her brother ruins it.
Her stupid, fucking brother who has no business being here—who isn’t even a made man, and who isn’t even involved in any of this—decides to ruin it.
“She doesn’t need you both to do anything, not when Papa and I are right here!”
The anger takes him by full force this time, and I can’t help but scoff.
“Dario.” Chiara says again, her voice firmer this time as she reaches out, her fingers brushing his arm. “Stop this, please!”
The silence that follows is heavy, the air now thick.
Nikolai tenses beside him, his patience wearing thin.
I can’t blame him.
“We’re not here to fight with you. We just want to make sure that Chiara is okay, and that she has everything she needs.”
Everybody she needs, my brother and myself included.
Dario looks at me, his jaw tight, but this time, he doesn’t respond. He simply turns back to face Chiara.
But that’s not good enough for him, because as soon as he has his back to us, he’s muttering under his breath. And since my brother can no longer hold back, he doesn’t hesitate to call him out on it.
And after, well, the things that happen after…
I do laugh.
Dario.
Nikolai.
Francesco.
Otets.
I smile to myself, knowing this was coming.
Our voices grow louder, our anger rising with every word that escapes our lips, and when it all gets too much, we have no choice but to continue.
Finally, Chiara looks at all of us with her hands on her head, her expression now a mixture of confusion and exhaustion.
“Can we all just…stop for a minute?”
Her voice trembles as she speaks.
Nobody listens.
My smile grows wider.
The argument reaches an all time high, and just when I think guns are about to be pulled out, and bodies will soon begin to drop, Alessandro’s voice booms through the chaos.
“Enough!”
Everybody freezes, turning to look at him in the corner of the room where he’s been standing silently all along.