32. Dave
32
Dave
T he first slivers of dawn peek through the hospital’s high windows, casting a cold, sterile light over the waiting room. I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been here, hours slipping into a haze of fear and frustration. Every second that drags by feels like another layer of my guilt pressing down on me. I’m not good for them—I know that. It’s a poison seeping into my bones, sharp and unforgiving.
The doctor finally appears, her footsteps too damn measured as she approaches. My heart pounds, my breath tightens, and I gasp for air. I don’t let go of Alexia’s hand; her grip is iron, her fingers cold, yet she holds on like I’m her only lifeline. I’m not even sure I deserve that.
“They’re stable,” the doctor says, her voice controlled, but there’s a warmth in her gaze that loosens some of the fear lodged in my chest. “They were injected with a potent synthetic drug. It’s put them into a comatose state.” Alexia hisses and I crush her fingers to steady myself. The doctor adds, “We’ve administered medication to counteract the effects, and they’re responding.”
Relief crashes over me, my knees nearly giving out from the force of it. Alexia sags against me as if every last ounce of her strength has been wrung out. I tighten my arm around her waist, anchoring her to me, grounding myself in her warmth. I close my eyes, drawing in her scent—a delicate blend of sweet and wild that’s been haunting me since she came back into my life.
“They need to stay here for a couple of days,” the doctor continues, her gaze shifting from me to Alexia. “Just to make sure the drug clears from their systems entirely. You’re welcome to stay, if you want.”
Alexia doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, please.” Her voice is barely more than a breath, but there’s a fierce determination in it. She won’t leave Rose’s side. Me neither.
I swallow hard and turn to the doctor. “Thank you.”
The doctor leads us down a winding corridor to the room where Rose and Pete are resting. Machines surround their small forms, wires trailing from their wrists and chests, feeding into monitors that beep steadily, a constant reassurance that they’re still here with us. I take in the sight of Rose, so small, so vulnerable, and my throat tightens, my heart shatters.
I watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest; each breath feels like a promise she’ll be okay. Guilt gnaws at me, vicious, relentless. I should have stayed in the safe house with them. I should have protected them. If I hadn’t been so consumed by my anger, my own damn pride… I shake the thought away. Regret won’t fix what’s happened, but damn it, it scorches me all the same.
We settle into chairs in front of the beds. My hand finds Alexia’s, her warmth a small comfort. Nurses come and go, checking monitors, whispering in soft tones. Every time they touch Rose, I have to fight the urge to stand, to demand that they be gentler, that they somehow make this right.
Alexia leans her head on my shoulder, her body weary, but there’s a strength in her that I envy. She’s been through hell and yet here she is, unyielding, her focus entirely on our daughter. I feel a pang of admiration, fierce and encompassing. For all the secrets, for all the damn suffering, she’s here, and I can’t deny that she’s stronger than I’ll ever be.
Over the next few days, we take turns sitting by the kids. When Ray recovers from his own injuries, he joins us. My brothers and my father also come. To me, they are a comfort in this time of trouble. But they’re also a reminder of the world we live in—the blood, the violence, the loyalty born of dark oaths. I watch my family surround the kids, each of them silently promising to protect what’s ours. But it’s Alexia, more than anyone, who holds this vigil with me, her gaze unwavering, her resolve like steel.
As the doctors work tirelessly, finally finding a way to counteract the poison in Rose and Pete’s systems, I feel something shift in me. The days of worry, the hours spent in this sterile room, waiting, hoping, have changed something fundamental. I’ve doubted Alexia, condemned her for the secrets she kept, but now I understand the price of those secrets, the sacrifices she made. With that realization, guilt twists deeper, sharper. I’m not sure how to make it right.
One evening, the sun dips below the horizon, casting the room in a fading reddish light. Since we are alone, I break the silence in a low, rough rumble. “Alexia, I’m…” I pause, my throat tight as I struggle to get the words out. When I find my voice, I confess, “I’m sorry for everything. For doubting you. For my reaction when you told me the truth about Rose.”
She doesn’t respond immediately. Her gaze remains fixed on our daughter, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she turns to me, her hazel eyes dark, filled with a sorrow that I can’t ignore. “You had every right to be angry, Dave,” she whispers. “I kept her from you. I robbed you of those years, of so many firsts with her. I thought I was doing the right thing for her… for everyone, but I was wrong.”
Her words steal my breath away, but I reach for her hand, wrapping my fingers around hers. “No, it was both our faults,” I say, the admission bitter but necessary. “I should’ve fought harder for you. I let you slip away, Alexia, and I hated you for it. I hated myself more. So much, in fact, that I couldn’t see anything else.”
A shudder runs through her, her fingers tightening around mine. “I hated myself too,” she confesses, her voice barely a whisper. “Every day, I looked at Rose, and I saw you. I saw the life we could have had, the family we could have been. But I was afraid. And Igor… he…”
Her voice trails off, and a darkness flickers in her eyes. I know what she’s about to say, the horror she’s endured, and it kills me, but I don’t push. Instead, I pull her closer, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, offering her what little comfort I can.
“He’s gone. You’re here now,” I say softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And so is Rose. That’s all that matters.”
She relaxes against me, her tension easing as if the weight she’s carried for so long is finally beginning to lift. We sit like that, in silence, as the minutes tick by.
The kids’ recovery is slow but steady, each day bringing a little more color back to their faces, a little more life to their limbs. Watching Rose, hearing her small voice, her laughter, it fills me with a sense of purpose I haven’t felt in years. For the first time, I let myself imagine a future—one where I’m not just a Mafia leader, where I’m more than the violence and blood that has stained my hands. I imagine a future where I’m a father, where I can give Rose the life she deserves, where Alexia and I can find something resembling happiness, even in the shadow of our dark past.
One evening, as I watch Rose sleep, her small fingers curled around her stuffed dog, a fierce resolve settles in me. This life, this world—it’s not safe for her, for any of us. And if I truly love them, if I truly want to protect them, I have to be willing to walk away from it all.
“Alexia,” I whisper. “When this is over and Rose recovers completely, I want to give you both a way out. A life away from all this.”
Her eyes widen, surprise flickering across her face. “What… what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’ll find a way to make it right,” I say, the words spilling out, raw and unfiltered. “You and Rose deserve more than this. And if that means leaving behind everything, cutting ties with the Syndicate, I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
She’s silent for a long moment, her gaze searching mine, as if she’s trying to read the truth in my eyes. Then, slowly, a tear slips down her cheek, and she reaches up, brushing it away with a shaky finger.
“Dave, I don’t need you to leave everything behind.” She reaches for my hand, her voice catching. After a shaky breath, she continues, “I just need you to be here. With me. With Rose.”
I swallow hard, my chest tightening. I pull her close, feeling her warmth seep into me. “I don’t deserve you.”
Despite the glimmer of hope, the fragile flame igniting in my heart, I consider the truthfulness in my words. Maybe we can have a future like Alexia’s answer implies. I want to believe I can be the man she deserves. Maybe we can build something out of the ashes of our past. It’ll have to be strong to withstand the darkness that will continue to follow us.
That thought makes my heart lurch. What if I’m the one who will doom them? What if my existence will bring Alexia and Rose misery and pain? My enemies will put a target on Alexia and Rose. I know fucking well how ruthless these Mafia men are.
S tanding in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, I observe the city. From up here, Boston looks serene—a stark contrast to the chaos I carry inside. I cross the plush expanse of the living room, the sound of my footsteps swallowed by the thick, patterned rug beneath. The space is immaculate, modern, yet cold, reflecting the life I’ve built. Money, power, influence—all of it means nothing tonight.
Tommy stands by the doorway, his dark suit sharply tailored, every inch of him exuding that controlled intensity that’s as much a part of him as breathing. He’s been my right hand, my confidant, my brother through the bloody darkness of this life. And yet, tonight, even with him here, I feel that familiar chill—an emptiness that Alexia’s presence had somehow managed to keep at bay.
“Thanks for coming,” I say. I don’t invite him in because he doesn’t need an invitation.
Tommy nods, stepping further into the room. His eyes scan the space, a habit ingrained from years of survival in our world. His gaze lingers on the panoramic view of the city, stretching out beneath us.
For all the power I’ve amassed, I know there’s no way to guarantee any protection for Alexia and Rose, and that knowledge burns inside me like a relentless thorn in my side.
“Always, brother,” Tommy replies.
I shove my hands in my pockets, forcing myself to breathe, to control the storm raging beneath the surface.
We walk together toward the terrace. The glass doors slide open smoothly, letting in the cool night air that’s thick with the scent of the city—smoke, asphalt, and the faint hint of the nearby harbor. The terrace sprawls before us, lined with elegant lanterns and lush greenery, a space that should feel peaceful but only reminds me of the isolation closing in around me.
Tommy leans against the railing, his hands gripping the metal as he stares out over the city. “What’s eating you, Dave?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it, a flicker of worry that only I would recognize. “I haven’t seen you this twisted up since… since Mom.”
The mention of our mother sends a jolt through me, a raw, unhealed wound buried deep. But tonight isn’t about her. It’s about Alexia and Rose, the only things that matter to me now.
“I don’t think I can keep them. In fact, I don’t think I should keep them,” I admit, my heart splintering as I do. “Alexia and Rose deserve a good life, you know. One that isn’t tainted by violence. One where they don’t have to look over their shoulders every damn day. Or worry if I’m coming home at the end of the day.”
Tommy doesn’t respond. He stands there, silent, the city lights casting shadows across his smooth cheeks, making him look harder. “You think letting them go will keep them safe?”
I clench my jaw, the muscles in my face tight as I force myself to meet his gaze. “I don’t know. But staying with me… it feels like a death sentence. I won’t be the reason they live in fear.”
Tommy’s eyes flash with a spark of emotion that he usually keeps buried. “You think you’re the reason they’re in danger? You think walking away will magically make danger disappear? Alexia has seen too much. Igor’s dead, but his allies are out there.”
I bristle, my hands balling into fists as I turn back to the city, the lights blurring in my vision. “Tommy, I can’t keep putting them in the line of fire just because I’m selfish enough to want them close. They’ve already suffered enough. There are ways I can protect them even from afar. You know how these things work.”
For a moment, there’s silence, heavy and suffocating. Then, Tommy steps closer, his hand gripping my shoulder. “Listen to me, Dave. You think you’re doing the right thing by sending them away?” He shakes his head, his grip tightening. “Alexia’s strong, yeah, but she’ll be on her own. And Rose is your daughter, man. She deserves to know that her father fought for her, that he did whatever it took to keep her safe.”
His words hit me, each one like a punch to the gut, stripping away the layers of doubt I’ve wrapped around myself.
“You’re right, Tommy. But not in the way you think. They deserve a chance at happiness. A real life. Not one tainted by who I am, what I do.” Alexia and Rose deserve better. And fear gnaws at me, insidious, whispering that I’m not good enough. I add, “I can’t protect them from the darkness that follows me, that surrounds us, Tommy.”
He sighs, releasing my shoulder, and steps back, crossing his arms as he studies me with an intense gaze. “And you don’t think you can protect them here? You’ve built this empire, Dave. You’ve protected our family, kept us safe. You think you can’t do that for them?”
“It’s not the same,” I bite back, frustration flaring. “You and I, we were born into this. We knew the cost from day one. Alexia and Rose deserve more than what I can give them.”
Tommy shakes his head, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, though there’s no humor in his eyes. “Maybe they do. But have you asked Alexia what she wants?”
I freeze, his words cutting deeper than I’d like to admit. The image of Rose’s tiny hand clutching Doggy, of Alexia’s fierce determination, flashes through my mind. They’re not helpless, not by a long shot. But I’ve treated them like fragile things that need to be locked away, protected from the world.
“Damn it, Tommy,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. “Why does it have to be so complicated?”
He lets out a low chuckle, a sound that’s both familiar and comforting. “Because you love them, Dave. And love’s a complicated thing, especially for men like us.”
I let it sink in, the truth settling over me like a weighted blanket. At the same time, it somehow eases my burden. Love isn’t simple, isn’t clean. It’s messy, brutal, and painful, but it’s also the one thing that makes life worth living.
“Look, whatever decision you make, I’ll back you, brother. But I’ll say this—Alexia and Rose make you a better man. Hell, they make all of us better. And that’s something worth fighting for.”
Though the path forward is still clouded, uncertain, I sigh in relief. “Thanks, Tommy. You’ve always had my back.”
“Always will,” he replies in a gruff voice.
We stand there in silence, watching the city below, each of us lost in our thoughts. The night stretches on, the air cool against my skin, the lights of Boston flickering like stars against the darkness.
Whatever decision I make, I won’t abandon them. Not now, not ever. Alexia and Rose are my family, and I’ll fight for them with everything I am. Even if it means tearing down the empire I’ve built, even if it means stepping away from the life I’ve known.
Because Tommy’s right. They make me a better man.
And maybe that will be enough.