Page 9 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ISABELLA

“ C ome on, Steph. Wake up .”

I sit by Stephania’s side, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

The room is too quiet, sterile, and way too cold.

I’ve been here for hours now, waiting for her to wake up, keeping myself from pacing by sheer force of will. Outside the door, Mario and his men are stationed, practically glued to their posts.

"Come on, Steph. You’ve been sleeping long enough.

Time to get back to the land of the living.

I have something really big to tell you.

I’m going to need you more than ever." I reach over and brush a stray strand of hair from her face, my other hand resting lightly on my belly. “Besides, you’ve got a wedding to plan, remember? You get to be the blushing bride, just like you’ve always wanted.

Sure, it’s not with a man you actually love, but still! A wedding!”

God, I’m not good at this.

She doesn’t move, not a twitch, but I can see her breathing steadily, and that’s good.

The door opens quietly, and I turn to see Dad step in.

He moves carefully, trying to be as silent as possible. He looks rough. He’s wearing one of his suits, but the tie knot looks a little less tight than usual, and his thick, dark hair is a bit mussed.

I stand up to give him room by Stephania’s bed, but he reaches out, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Here, Dad. You take my place. She’s out of it, but I bet she’s getting sick of me already.”

“No, Isa, stay. She’d want you here,” he says. “You know that.”

I want to protest, thinking he might need some alone time with her, but I relent, easing back into the seat.

For a moment, Dad just stands there, looking at her, his face lined with fear—an emotion I’ve rarely s een from him.

He takes a seat beside her, reaching for her hand and holding it between both of his, his thumb stroking the back of her hand with a tenderness that catches me off guard.

“She’s like a daughter to me,” he says. "When we lost her parents, it was like losing a part of myself. Stephania has always been more than just my niece. And she’s always been more than your cousin.”

I nod, swallowing hard, not sure what to say. I know bits and pieces of this story, but not the full picture. Her parents died a long time ago, when I was too young to remember.

He lets out a sigh, his eyes glistening. “I promised their memories that I’d keep her safe, that I’d love her as my own.” He looks over at me. “And I did, Isa. I have. I love her just as much as I love you.”

Growing up, I always knew Dad loved us both, but hearing him say it, feeling the rawness in his tone hits me harder than I expected.

“You’ve done right by her, Dad,” I say, squeezing his broad shoulder. “Stephania knows she’s loved. She knows she has a family who’ll do anything for her.”

He nods. “She was always different from you, you know,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got your mother’s fire, her rebellious spirit. But Stephania... she’s gentle. She took after her own mother. Always so kind. She’s the kind of woman who makes you want to be better.”

I offer a small smile. “I wish I were more like her.”

He chuckles, the tension in his face easing a bit. “You make people stronger, Isabella. You make people face themselves. That’s your gift.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, and I watch as Dad strokes Stephania’s hand, his love for her radiating off him.

After a few moments, my father offers a weak smile. “I just wish she’d open her eyes.”

Suddenly, the room feels really small. Claustrophobic, even. I get up, staring off into space for a moment trying to gather myself.

“I think I need some air. You want anything?”

Dad shakes his head. “No, thank you. Just go ahead and take a break. Go on, Isa. I’ll be here with her.”

I give him a quick nod and slip out of the room.

The sterile smell of the hospital, the hushed voices of nurses passing by, all feel too heavy, like a weight pressing down on me. I feel raw. The emotion I just witnessed has revealed something I’ve kept hidden for a long time.

I find the half-empty cafeteria and head straight for the coffee machine before stopping myself. Even though the doctor said I could have caffeine on a limited basis, I opt for tea instead. I grab a cup and fill it, steam rising.

I take a sip and find a seat by the window. We’re up high, and Chicago seems to stretch out forever, the city’s lights twinkling under the night sky.

Everything feels so surreal. Stephania lying in that hospital bed, Dad breaking down. Me pregnant with the baby of my cousin’s arranged fiancé. What a shit show.

For a second, I let myself wonder what life would be like if things were different, if we didn’t have to live with the constant threat, the unending cycle of loyalty, alliances, and vendettas. If we could just be... normal.

I sigh, letting the thought hang in my mind for a second before pushing it out. Normal isn’t even in the same universe as my life. And if I start to doubt it, I can just look at the gunshot wound on my arm.

I shake my head, coming back to the moment, then glance up to see Mario approaching.

“Sorry to surprise you,” he says.

I let out a dry laugh. “It’s fine. Just for a second, I let myself believe I was alone.”

He cocks his head to the side, looking at me.

“You okay, Isabella?”

I offer him a tired smile. “As OK as anyone can be in a hospital, waiting for family to wake up.”

He nods, his face softening. Mario’s been with us forever, always watching out for us, especially Stephania. He knows more about our lives than most people ever will, and he’s seen it all—the highs, the lows, the insanity in between.

“You know,” he says, “your dad... he’s proud of you. Doesn’t say it often, but he is.”

I blink. “He said that?”

Mario shrugs. “In his own way. He’s always talking about how tough you are. One time he said he always thought he needed a son. But from the day he met you, he said, he knew you’d be stronger than ten men put together.”

I let out a puff of laughter. “Yeah. Maybe. And sometimes I think I’m too tough for my own good.”

Mario chuckles. “Don’t sell yourself short. Tough is what keeps this family together.”

I nod, taking another sip of tea. “Thanks, Mario. Really.”

He gives me a small nod and heads back to his post, leaving me alone with my thoughts again. I stare out the window, feeling just a little more grounded.

In that moment, I make a vow. I’ll be there for Stephania, for Dad, for this family.

I’ll be the strength they need, no matter what.