Chiara
CHIARA
I wake up slowly, the world around me coming into focus like a dream fading into reality. The first thing I notice is the unfamiliar ceiling above me, a soft cream color that I don’t recognize. The sheets beneath me are smooth, clean, and the bed is far too comfortable to be the one I remember from before.
Panic starts to bubble up in my chest as I try to figure out where I am, but before I can even move, I hear a soft sobbing sound beside me.
Turning my head slowly, I see my mother sitting in a chair by the bed, her face buried in her hands. The sight of her makes my heart lurch, and for a moment, I just stare at her, unable to speak. She looks so small, so fragile, and it hits me all at once that she’s here, that somehow, I’m safe.
“Mom?” My voice is barely a whisper, raspy and weak.
She looks up at me, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Oh, ,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”
Seeing her like this, so broken, sends a fresh wave of pain through me, but it’s not anger I feel. It’s a deep, aching sadness. I reach out, my hand trembling as I take hers, squeezing it gently.
“Mom, it’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry.”
She shakes her head, more tears falling as she clutches my hand like it’s a lifeline. “No, it’s not okay. I never wanted this for you, . I never wanted you to be part of this world. But when I chose Dmitri … when I married him, I brought you into it, and now … now this.”
I squeeze her hand again, trying to convey as much comfort as I can through that simple touch. “I don’t blame you, Mom. You did what you had to do, and Dmitri loves you.”
She looks at me, her eyes filled with guilt and regret. “But if it weren’t for me, if I hadn’t run from your father … you wouldn’t have been put in this position. You wouldn’t have been targeted by those monsters.”
My heart stutters at her words, and I frown, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “What are you talking about?”
She inhales shakily, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago, but I was so scared. Scared for you, scared for us … scared of this…”
I feel my chest tighten, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. “Mom, what is it?”
She takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself, and then she starts to speak, her voice trembling. “Your real father … his name is Alberto Giannini.”
I frown, the name not sounding familiar at all. Should I know them? “Who?”
“He’s … he’s part of the Italian Mafia. When I found out I was pregnant with you, I knew I had to get away from him, from that life. I ran, . I ran to protect you, to give you a chance at a normal life. But he … he never stopped looking for us.”
I feel like the ground is slipping out from under me, my world tilting on its axis. Leo’s words about someone sending him making too much sense now.
“So … so all of this… it was because of him? He was the one who sent Leo after me?”
She nods again, tears filling her eyes. “Yes. He found us, . He found us, and he set this up—everything with Leo, with the Volkovs. He wants to force you into marrying Leo so that the Volkovs can appear legitimate while working with the Giannini family. It was all a setup, from the beginning.”
The room spins, and I have to close my eyes, trying to steady myself. Everything I thought I knew, everything I believed about my life, about who I am, is crumbling around me. My real father is a Mafia boss.
Holy fucking shit.
“Mom … I…” I don’t know what to say. I’m in shock, my mind reeling from the revelation. But I know one thing for sure—I don’t blame her. She was trying to protect me, just like she always has.
Before I can say anything more, there’s a soft knock on the door, and my mother stiffens, quickly wiping at her eyes.
“Come in,” she says, her voice wavering.
The door opens slowly, and Giovanni steps into the room. The sight of him makes my heart clench painfully in my chest. He looks exhausted, his face drawn and pale, his eyes shadowed with worry and guilt. But it’s the way he looks at me—like he’s seeing a ghost—that breaks something inside me.
My mother stands up, wiping her tears as she walks over to him. She hugs him tightly, and I catch a few words of what she says in Italian, something about taking care of me, about being strong for me.
Giovanni nods, his expression grim, and she gives him a small, sad smile before leaving the room, giving us space.
The door clicks shut behind her, and for a moment, Giovanni and I just stare at each other, the silence heavy between us. Then he moves closer, his eyes never leaving mine, and I can see the guilt, the anger, the pain written all over his face.
“,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Tears prick at my eyes, and I shake my head, trying to push back the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “You don’t have to apologize, Gio. This … this wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was,” he says, his voice breaking. “I should have been there. I should have made this right before we came home and protected you. But I didn’t, and now … now you’ve been through hell because of me.”
I reach out to him, my hand trembling, and he takes it, his grip tight, almost desperate. “Gio, you couldn’t have known this would happen. And you did protect me—you found me. You saved me.”
His eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he squeezes my hand, his voice thick with emotion. “But I wasn’t there when it mattered most. I wasn’t there to stop it before it started.”
I shake my head again, more tears spilling over. “Don’t do this, Gio. Don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you. You came for me, and that’s all that matters.”
He looks at me, his expression filled with so much pain, so much guilt, that it makes my heart ache.
“ … I’m in your life now. I’m not going anywhere, and nothing like this will ever happen again. I swear it.”
I nod, feeling a small flicker of hope amidst the darkness that’s been threatening to swallow me whole. “How did you find me?”
He smiles, a small, bittersweet smile as he reaches out and gently touches the dagger pendant around my neck.
“This,” he says softly. “It has a tracking device in it. I put it there because I wanted to make sure I could always find you, in case something like this ever happened.”
I stare at the pendant, my heart swelling with emotion. He was always looking out for me, even when I didn’t realize it.
“You really are impossible,” I whisper, but there’s no anger in my voice.
“Maybe,” he says with a small smirk, but his eyes are serious, full of a kind of fierce determination that makes my heart ache. “But I’ll keep doing whatever it takes to keep you safe, . Even if it means going to war with the entire fucking world.”
A small, broken laugh escapes me, and I squeeze his hand tighter, pulling him closer.
“You don’t have to go to war for me, Gio. Just … just stay with me. That’s all I need.”
He moves closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that won’t stop falling.
“I’m not going anywhere, Kitten. I’m right here.”
I lean into his touch, closing my eyes, trying to let the warmth of his hand, the steady presence of him, chase away the darkness that still lingers at the edges of my mind. But there’s something else I need to say, something I need to get off my chest.
“Gio,” I start, my voice trembling, “there’s something I need to tell you. Something I need to apologize for.”
He starts to shake his head, already about to tell me not to apologize, but I stop him, my hand on his chest.
“Please, let me say this.”
He hesitates, then nods, his gaze steady on mine. “Okay.”
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
“I went to see Leo … because I was angry. I was angry at you, at everything, and I wanted to … I don’t know, rebel or something. He invited me to his gallery opening, and I went because I wanted to prove something to myself. But it was stupid. It was so fucking stupid, and I see that now. I should have known better. I should have listened to you. ”
He’s silent, his expression unreadable, but I can see the pain in his eyes, the hurt that my words have caused. It breaks my heart, but I know I have to say this, to be honest with him.
“I didn’t know what he was planning, didn’t even realize he could do something like this,” I continue, my voice trembling. “But I knew he wasn’t someone I should trust, and I ignored that. I ignored everything because I was angry. And now … now I understand the danger. I understand what I put myself in, what I put us in. And I’m so sorry, Gio. I’m so, so sorry.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes dark, intense, and I can see the battle going on inside him, the struggle to process what I’ve just told him. But then he reaches out, pulling me into his arms, holding me tightly, like he’s afraid to let go.
“That’s not important now,” he says, his voice thick. “What’s important is that you’re here, that you’re safe. We can talk about the rest later, but right now … I just need you to know that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not ever again.”
I nod, burying my face in his chest, letting his warmth surround me, comfort me. “I know, Gio. I believe you.”
For a long time, we just sit there, holding each other, the silence between us filled with everything we can’t put into words. There’s so much I want to say, so much I need to tell him, but for now, all I can do is hold on to him, to this moment, and hope that somehow, some way, we can find a way through this.
Because despite everything that’s happened, despite the pain, the fear, the darkness that still lingers … I realize that I love him.