72. Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Two
Mateo
M ari and I are sitting wrapped in a warm blanket under our tree at Carloso. She’s been playing guitar for me under the stars, but not even that is bringing me solace tonight. The notes drift away on the night air, but they do nothing to quiet the storm raging inside me.
I’m unsettled, my mind torn in so many different directions.
Ella is with Tiero tonight. His last night on this earth, if he has his way.
“Should I just step in?” I ask the question that’s been plaguing me the most.
Earlier today, Uberto informed me that the Swiss woman’s biological markers are a match for what Ella and Tiero need.
It’s a miraculous result.
Under another guise, she’s been taken to Rome, where she’s currently enjoying some sightseeing, under close observation, of course.
Mari pauses, her fingers resting lightly on the strings. “And do what?” she asks softly.
“Make the decision for them,” I say.
Mari exhales, setting the guitar aside. “You mean have the Swiss woman killed even though Ella decreed that no living person was to be sacrificed for her?” Her voice isn’t accusatory, but there’s gravity to it.
I drag a hand through my hair. “She doesn’t want to take an organ from someone who isn’t already dead. By the time this woman reaches the hospital, she’ll already be gone. It wouldn’t be a lie, not really.”
Mari shifts beside me, tucking her knees under the blanket.
“I can’t let him just throw his life away like this. Not when there’s a solution right under our noses,” I insist.
“It’s your brother’s life, so it has to be his decision,” she says softly. “You said that he’s tired of everything. I think the thought of him living on in Ella brings him a lot of comfort. He won’t really be dead then.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “But he could be with her… with both of them alive.”
Mari raises an eyebrow, studying me for a moment. “How?”
I meet her gaze, and then tell her my idea.
She listens attentively, her lips parting in understanding.
“That could work,” she says when I’m finished. “But—”
“How can there be a but? It gives them both a chance. Not just to live, but to be happy together.”
She exhales. “Yes, there’s a chance, but plenty could still go wrong. What if Tiero survives the transplant, but Ella doesn’t? What then?”
I rub my hands over my face, moving my head from side to side to relieve the tension in my neck and shoulders.
Mari shifts behind me, her hands gliding over my shoulders before kneading gently. Her touch is soothing me.
“Teo, I understand you want to fix this. You don’t want to let your brother die. I’d be contemplating the same things if this were Isa. Still, you can’t decide for Tiero,” she insists. “Your brother is of sound mind and has thought this through.”
“Has he though? He’s made the decision to give Ella his heart awfully fast.”
Ignoring my outburst, Mari continues to work on my shoulders.
“Definitely tell him about your plan, but the ultimate decision has to be his.”
I stare into the darkness. I know Mari is right, but part of me doesn’t want to accept that.
One thing is for sure. Whatever choice I make, there’s no undoing it.
And time is running out.
“I’ll talk to Tiero,” I tell Dr. Romolo as we step out of his office. We spent the early morning hours planning, arranging, and setting every last piece into place.
“He’ll give you the sign to go ahead.”
Santino stands beside me, silent but unwavering. He knows every step, every contingency. I trust him implicitly. He has access to resources, connections, and ways to get things done.
“And the woman?” I ask.
“She’s sedated in one of the side rooms. If Don De Marco agrees, she won’t feel a thing.”
I nod, my stomach twisting in knots.
The short walk to Tiero’s room is like trudging through quicksand.
The transplant team is already stationed nearby, waiting, their presence suffocating. No matter what Tiero chooses, they will be needed. The finality of it all is crushing.
Then I see Ella.
She’s walking toward me, her steps slow, unsteady. Her eyes are red, swollen, and drowning in grief. They lock onto mine, and my heart clenches. This is destroying her.
Tiero wanted to see me first. This is my only chance. My last opportunity to change his mind.
I step up to his bed, dragging a chair closer. His hand feels fragile in mine, but I grip it tightly, as if holding him here, anchoring him to life. I lean in, keeping my voice low.
“You told me the other night that you’re tired of this life. That there’s no point in going on if you can’t have Ella because she won’t be a part of the Mafia.” My voice is urgent, desperate. “You were wrong, Tiero. You can have it all. You can have the life with Ella you always dreamed of. The organs you both need are right next door. The transplant team is ready. One word from you and they’ll make it happen.”
His tired eyes search mine, but I don’t give him space to protest.
“At the end of it, they’ll fake both your deaths. It won’t be hard. Complications happen in this kind of surgery all the time. You’ll be taken to a clinic in Switzerland to heal. New identities. Offshore accounts. A life together with Ella, away from all of this. It’s done, Tiero. It’s waiting for you. You just need to say ‘Plan B’ to Romolo and it will happen.”
I take a steadying breath before adding, “Anybody who can’t be trusted will be taken care of. As you said, secrecy is paramount, so I won’t even ask you to tell me unless, down the track, you want to. Everything is in place. All you have to do is say the word.”
Tiero’s lips part slightly, his breath hitching. His eyes shine with unshed tears.
I stand, leaning over him, wrapping my arms around him like I used to when we were kids and he was my whole world. The weight of it all is unbearable.
“Please, Tiero,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Give me that hope. Please make the right decision.”
His arms tighten around me, weak but firm.
“Teo.” His voice is hoarse. “I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
My throat constricts.
“I know you,” he continues, his breath shallow. “You’re loyal to a fault, but think about what I told you the other night. Live for yourself. Not for the dreams of our ancestors. Promise me that.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as tears spill freely down my face.
“I love you,” he says, his voice cracking. “Never forget that. I love you. One way or another, we will meet again.”
I don’t let go. I can’t.
When I finally force myself to pull back, his face is a blur through my tears. My hands shake as I cup his jaw, memorizing him. This might be the last time I ever see him.
“I love you.” My voice is barely a whisper.
His eyes hold mine, endless depths of love and pain.
I can’t stand this anymore.
I press a trembling kiss to his forehead and flee the room.
I don’t look back. I can’t. If I do, I will break.
My vision tunnels as I run down the corridor, my breath ragged. I reach Romolo’s office and slam the door shut behind me.
I need a moment.
A moment to gather the shattered pieces of myself before I step out of this hospital as the new Don.
I let my head fall back, staring at the ceiling, my chest heaving.
I never wanted this.
But that doesn’t matter.
Because the role is mine now.