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The doctor’s face falls, and his next words make my stomach drop.

“Your son, however…” He pauses. “He must’ve hit the floor hard before you got to him. There was significant hemorrhaging in his brain, and it swelled during the chest surgery. We were able to relieve the pressure, but…”

He hesitates just for a moment. “He’s on life support. As it stands, there’s little to no brain function. We’re not sure he’ll regain it. You’ll need to start considering your options.”

The room spins around me. The air thickens. For a moment, I can’t breathe.

My son.

I swallow hard, nausea rising like a tide. My throat tightens as the words sink in—slowly, painfully.

Daniele. My son.

I force myself to nod. “I… I understand.”

I can feel Valerio, Dario, and Ginny looking at me, pity swimming in their eyes. But I don’t dare look at any of them.

“Can I see my wife?”

The doctor nods. “You can, but only for a few minutes. She’s still unconscious, and we will need to transfer her to the ICU after she is done in post-op. We need to monitor her closely. The next forty-eight hours will be critical for her and the baby.”

I don’t care. I don’t care how long they’ll let me stay or how long I’ve been waiting. I just need to be near her. I need to feel like I’m still connected to her in this storm of chaos and loss.

I leave the three of them and follow the doctor down the hall, the walls closing in around me, and enter the room where Maria lies. She’s hooked up to machines, a quiet beeping sound filling the otherwise silent room. Her body is pale, almost translucent against the white sheets, but she’s breathing.

She’s still here.

I pull a chair to her side, my eyes never leaving her face. I reach for her hand, brushing my fingers over hers as I hold it gently. I let the silence stretch between us, the only sound the soft rhythm of the machines.

“Please,” I whisper again, the words a prayer.

“You need to pull through this, amore. I can’t lose you, Maria. Not when our child needs you to fight to be here. Not when I haven’t told you how sorry I am. Not before I make up for what I did. Please… come back to me.”

Never in all my years have I felt so helpless.

All the power and money in the world, and I still couldn’t save my son—and now my wife’s life hangs in the balance.

Fuck.

I don’t care how long I have to wait—I’ll be at her side, willing her to open her eyes again.

She needs to wake up because without her, there’s no version of me that can exist.

41

MARIA

Pain lances through my chest like a thousand needles, and I gasp, trying to force air into my lungs. The sterile sting of antiseptic burns my nostrils, mixing with the metallic taste of fear. I wince, but the fog in my head doesn’t lift, and my body feels like it’s been broken and pieced together wrong.

It comes to me in flashes.

The cabin. Daniele. Gunshots.

My eyes snap open, and the harsh fluorescent lights above me feel like a cruel assault on my senses. I shut them again, overwhelmed by the brightness. After a few seconds, I force them open once more, the world blurring in and out of focus. My head spins, every movement heavier than the last.

I blink a few times, trying to clear the fog in my head. A dull ache builds between my eyebrows as I come to. I try to lift my hand, but it feels heavy. Sluggish. My body aches in places I don’t remember.

“The baby…” I choke out, my hand moving to my flat stomach.