Page 73 of Always Meant To Be

I hear the door slam behind me, and I sigh.

"What can I do for you, Antonio?" I ask in frustration, feeling the need to kill grow stronger.

He huffs. "You can get your ass to that hospital and go see your wife."

I fist my hands. "Why? She's not awake…."

Antonio moves around me and gets in my face. "But she can still hear you. Dr. Cal confirmed it. You haven't been back to the hospital since the night she was flown in, and if I didn't know better,fratello, I'd say you didn't care about her."

I try not to flinch at his words.

He's wrong. So very fucking wrong, and he knows it.

I do care. I care too fucking much, and watching my wife's lifeless body…. I cried for the first time since I was six years old, when another kid pushed me over at school.

My father told me not to be a fucking pussy and to fight back.

I broke the child's arm the next day and hadn't cried since, not wanting to disappoint my father, a man I've always looked up to.

Was he harsh growing up? Yeah, but only because I was his heir; I was to become Don.

I needed to be hard, and he ensured I was while also ensuring I knew family was everything.

If I go to that hospital, I know I won't leave. I know however my wife leaves is how I will, even if it's by a hearse.

"She'll never forgive you if you're not there for your son, Romeo," he tries, but I ignore him and go to my black Porsche.

Climbing in, I start her up and spin away from the warehouse, knowing he'll deal with the body.

It's not just Antonio on my back. Mamma, Papa, Leonardo, Maya, Mikhail, fuck, even Anatasia and Holly. They all beg for me to go see her, but can't they see how much I'm dying on the inside?

I can't fucking face her knowing I'm the reason Liliya survived for so long, that I'm the reason she was hurting for years, because I kept her at a distance all for Liliya to?—

I shake my head, squeezing the steering wheel, my car accelerating.

For years, I put her sister before her just so I could keep her, and now it's nearly killed her and our son.

It's all my fucking fault, and the only way to stop myself from drowning is to kill.

With heavy breaths, I do a 180 from the route I started, driving toward the office instead, home no longer feeling likehome.

It never will without her….

A knock on my office door snaps me out of my head a few hours later. I look at the time and see it's past midnight, and I sigh, knowing who it will be.

"Come in, Mamma," I rasp, leaning back in my chair, my eyes going to the pictures of my wife on my dark oak desk.

After Helena tried to get herself off on the old one, El decided it had to go.

I smile at the memory of El laid out on this one, my face in between her legs.

Mamma walks in wearing sweats, her hair up in a messy bun. My father is right behind her, and I silently groan.

"Two for one tonight, huh," I murmur, and Mamma snorts.

"It's been a week, son," Papa states, crossing his arms over his chest.

I find it comical that he's in a three-piece suit, yet Mamma is in her black sweats.