Chapter 41 ROSE
ROSE
Pain is all I feel. A dull, aching weight presses into my side, like something heavy is lodged beneath my ribs. My body is sluggish, my limbs unresponsive, but the pain is real.
Then comes the soft beeping sound, a rhythmic, steady hum of machines, the occasional rustle of fabric, quiet murmurs.
I pry my eyes open, the world blurring into a soft, golden haze.
The fluorescent light overhead is too bright, making me wince as I try to focus.
Slowly, things come into view. The IV line taped to my hand.
The figure sitting beside me, with a hint of lavender perfume, cutting through the clinical smell of disinfectant.
“Mamma?” My voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.
She turns sharply, her rosary clinking against the armrest of her wheelchair as she reaches for my hand. “La mia bella rosa.” Her voice trembles with relief.
Something small and warm curls against my other hand.
“Mum.”
Angelos.
My chest clenches as I turn my head, finding my son pressed against the bed, his cheek resting on my arm. His dark lashes flutter against pale skin, exhaustion tugging at him, but he’s here. He’s safe.
A sob catches in my throat. I want to hold them, bury my face in their warmth, tell them I’m okay even if I don’t feel okay, but I can’t move.
The relief I feel is washed away with dread as I scan the room. “Where’s Dan?”
I search the room again, my heart rate picking up, the beeping machine showing my panic. He’s not here.
My fingers tighten around Mum’s. “Where’s Dan?” My voice cracks, barely concealing the terror clawing at my ribs. “Is he—”
Dead.
No. No, I can’t do this again. I can’t lose him.
Mum’s lips part, but before she can answer, the door creaks open.
And there he is.
My breath stutters, tears blurring my vision as he steps inside. His broad shoulders fill the doorway, the familiar set of his jaw, the stormy grey of his eyes locking onto mine. He looks exhausted—his skin pale, his movements slow—but he’s alive.
“Dan.”
The relief is instant, overwhelming, like air rushing into lungs that have been starved for too long. My body screams with pain, but I don’t care. He’s alive, and he’s here.
His lips curve, just slightly, but his face is drawn, his hand bracing against his stomach as he moves towards me. His steps are careful, measured, like every inch he covers takes effort.
Mum must see it too because she lets go of my hand and gestures to Angelos. “Come, tesoro. Let D’Angelo sit down.” She gives Dan a warm smile. “This man hasn’t left your side the whole time, and you have to go and wake up while he’s having physio?”
“Physio? For what?” Panic grips me again.
Angelos gives up his chair for Dan and stands at my bedside.
Dan lowers himself into the chair beside me, wincing as he does. His hand presses against his stomach, pain flashing across his face before he forces it away.
“You’re hurt.” My fingers twitch to reach for him, but I don’t have the strength. “You got shot too?”
His brows pull together before understanding dawns. “No, fiore mio.” His voice is rough, like he’s been through hell. “I’m fine. Just sore.”
I shake my head, trying to sit up, but the pain under my ribs flares, making me suck in a sharp breath. “You’re lying. You’re in pain.”
His jaw clenches, his hand resting over mine. “Don’t worry about me, Rose.”
My breath catches. “What happened? What about Elio? Where’s Elio?”
“Everyone’s fine, Rose,” Mamma says.
Dan exhales slowly, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I was shot.”
Angelos whimpers at my side. “I’m sorry, Mum. I never meant to—”
Dan reaches for his hand. “Hey, we talked about this.” He pulls Angelos closer, his voice quieter, steadier. “I know what it feels like to blame yourself for something you can’t change. But you’re not responsible for any of this. You hear me?”
Angelos’ lower lip trembles, but he nods, gripping Dan’s hand tightly. “I was so scared.”
“I know, kid.” Dan squeezes his shoulder. “But you don’t have to be anymore. You’ve got me now.”
Angelos blinks up at him, his tired face a mixture of emotions. He doesn’t say anything else, but when Dan gives his hand one last squeeze, Angelos doesn’t let go.
My chest blooms at seeing them together like this.
“Dan’s right, sweetheart. I don’t want you blaming yourself for any of this. I’m fine now.” I hide the pain gripping my abdomen and hope he doesn’t see the sweat beading on my forehead.
“You lost too much blood. Your liver—” Dan swallows hard, taking my hand in both his palms.
“Will I be okay?”
“Yes. I’ll make sure of it.”
“What about you? Will you be okay?”
He smiles and lifts his t-shirt, revealing a large surgical pad and gauze dressing surrounded by the beautiful ink that I love. “We’re both gonna be fine. We have matching scars now.”
“I don’t understand. Did the bullet get you, too?” My fingers trace the outline of his dressing.
“Dad gave you his liver.”
Hearing Angelos say the word dad makes me recoil, but I gaze into Dan’s eyes and know he’s the dad Angelos is talking about.
“Well, only part of my liver. Or I’d be dead.” Dan smiles and ruffles Angelos’ thick dark hair. “Maybe less gaming and more biology lessons, kid.”
Angelos just smiles, tears filling up his eyes.
I flick my gaze between the two of them. “Is that true?”
Dan places my hand over the hospital gown that covers the dressing. “You’ll always have a piece of me, fiore mio.”
My head is light and dizzy, as if the room is tilted on an axis. I look at him again, really look at him. The exhaustion in his face, the paleness of his skin, the way he moves carefully and slower than usual.
“You did this? For me?”
Mum wheels her electric chair around the bed and nods to Angelos. “Let’s give them a moment.”
Angelos frowns, reluctant to let go, but Mamma nudges him gently. “She’s safe now. Let’s go get you something to eat.”
He leans over and kisses my cheek. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you, too.”
Dan rubs Angelos’ shoulder as they share a look. Both have the same quiet understanding.
Tears sting my eyes as Mamma wheels out of the room, Angelos trailing behind her, glancing back at me one last time before the door clicks shut.
The air thickens, my heart breaking and swelling at the same time. I squeeze Dan’s hand as tightly as I can manage, my throat aching with unshed tears. “You—” My voice fails me, the weight of it all too much. “You really are my guardian angel.”
He shifts, leaning forward slightly, his forehead nearly brushing mine. “You’re stuck with me now.” His lips ghost against my knuckles. “I gave you a piece of me.”
The dam breaks. “Why would you do that?”
He swipes away the tears on my cheeks. “Because you’re mine and I take care of what’s mine.”
A sob rips through my chest, and he catches it, pressing his lips to mine, his touch soothing even as his body fights its own pain.
“I thought you left me again,” I whisper, hating how small my voice sounds.
His eyes darken, his grip tightening. “Never. I’ll never leave you again. Not unless you ask me to.”
His words wrap around me, filling the hollow parts, the broken parts. I let myself believe them. Because D’Angelo gave me more than just his liver. He gave me his life. And I’ll spend the rest of mine making sure he never regrets it.
I let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by his sacrifice and the way his lips brush over my knuckles like a silent vow.
“If this is your way of grovelling, you’ll have to do better than that.” A smile breaks through the tears.
A rough sound escapes him—half a chuckle, half a groan. “What donating an organ isn’t enough for you?”
Tears slip from my lashes, my emotions unravelling as I grip his hand, still in awe that he did that for me.
“If you want me on my knees, all you have to do is ask.” His lips trail to my ear as he whispers, “I’m not above begging, fiore mio. It won’t be the first time I’ve been on my knees for you this week, and until you’re well, it won’t be the last.”
“You prayed for me?”
“Of course I did. You’re mine. You’ve been mine for longer than you realise.” His fingers trace slow, careful circles over the back of my hand. “I don’t just donate organs to anyone. Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you. Always have been.”
“What happened to hating me?” I raise an eyebrow, knowing now, he never hated me, just like I never really hated him, despite how much I wanted to.
“I hate how you’re the first thing I think about in a morning and the last thing at night.
How you consume my every thought. But most of all, I hate how you keep putting yourself in danger for me when I should be the one taking care of you.
My brave flower.” His fingers stroke the hair from my forehead.
I gulp down the jumble of words in my throat.
So many things I want to say, but looking into his eyes, he knows them already.
“You have taken care of me, Dan. All this time…” I remember what he said, about being the one to put Magnus in prison all those years ago.
“You were taking care of me from the shadows. I don’t know how long I would’ve survived that life—”
“Shhh.” His lips press to mine, silencing the sob about to escape. “You’re a warrior. You not only survived, but you raised our son alone. And if you’ll marry me, I’ll spend the rest of my life grovelling, with one exception.”
“What’s that?”
“You beg for my dick in the bedroom.” His lips quirk into that cheeky grin that I love.
“Please don’t make me laugh. I’m in pain.”
He brings my hand to his lips, peppering kisses down my arm. “I was ready to die for you, Rose.” He leans in, pressing his lips to my wrist, just above my pulse. “But living for you is all I want now.”
My chest tightens, my heart breaking open and mending itself in the same moment. I tug at his hand weakly, trying to bring him closer. “Kiss me,” I whisper.
His breath hitches, and even though pain flickers across his face, he leans in. His mouth meets mine—soft at first, careful, like he’s afraid I’ll break. But I press into him, tasting the exhaustion on his lips, the relief, the love that neither of us has words for.
He sighs against my mouth, pulling away just enough to rest his forehead against mine. “As soon as you’re able to walk, you’ll be walking down the aisle so I can make you my wife.”
A small, breathless laugh escapes me. “Is that a proposal?”
He smirks, his fingers brushing my cheek. “No, Rose. It’s a fact, trust me.”
“What happened to Magnus?” I hold my breath, hating how the mere mention of his name makes Dan’s face contort.
“My cousin Riccardo is looking for him. He'll get what's coming to him. But you’re my priority.”
“I want to see him. I want my divorce.” I need to put my own ghosts to rest.
Dan studies me for a moment as if thinking about it. “When you're well. We can deal with him together.”
I nod and close my eyes, letting his warmth, his presence, and his love sink into me. I almost lost him. He almost lost me.
But we’re here. We survived.
I place my hand on his cheek, his beard longer than before. “I trust you, Dan.”
He exhales as if the weight of the world just fell from his shoulders. He turns his face slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to my palm. “Then let me prove to you every day that you can.”
I trace my fingers along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard, the warmth of his skin beneath my touch. “You already have.”
A breath shudders from him, and he leans in, brushing his lips against my temple. “You scared the hell out of me, Rose. You have to stop saving me.”
“I’ll stop saving you when you stop saving me.” My voice is barely a whisper, but he hears it.
His lips curve, his eyes softening. “That’ll be never then.” He shifts in the chair, wincing slightly as his hand returns to his abdomen.
I nod weakly, my body still exhausted, my heart still racing, but there’s no fear anymore. Only us. My chest clenches. "Lie with me," I say, tugging at his hand.
He shakes his head. "You're still healing, and I don’t want to hurt you."
"You won't."
His hesitation lasts only a second before he carefully manoeuvres onto the bed beside me. He keeps his arm loose around my waist, careful of my stitches, his warmth wrapping around me like a shield.
I press my face against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The sound anchors me, soothes the last of the fear lingering in my bones. “I’ve always loved you, Dan.”
“I know.” He strokes my hair, his fingers moving lazily. "Get some rest, fiore mio." His voice is thick with exhaustion. "I’ll be right here when you wake up."
And I believe him.
Because for the first time in a long time, I know with certainty, Dan isn’t going anywhere.
Neither am I.
We belong to each other, in this life and the next.
And no force in the world—no scars, no ghosts, no past—will ever separate us.