Page 25 of The Last Hope

“You said the same thing last night at the gala. What do you mean, you’re not his wife ?”

Selina didn’t respond. She simply lowered her head, clutching her son against her legs.

“It doesn’t matter whether you’re his wife or not, young lady. You’re the mother of his child, and that has been the case for almost ten years ! You have to go back to—”

“Grigori, enough !” I growled, my gaze locked onto the mother and son who flinched at my brother’s words. She lifted her head and met my eyes.

“They’re not going back to Italy.”

Her chin began trembling, and I clenched my fists to stop myself from reaching for her. My brother grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back, his jaw tight.

“Come on, Greg, let’s get some air,askim,” Elif said, throwing herself onto her husband’s arm and pulling him toward the sliding doors leading to the garden. Grigori tried to resist butquickly gave in when his wife flashed her infamous ‘bunny eyes’ at him. They disappeared between the freshly trimmed hedges.

“Mamma ?Are we going back to the monster’s lair?” Rafael whispered in Italian to his mother.

Selina immediately crouched beside her son, shaking her head gently and offering a small smile. “No,Angelomio, we are not going back there,” she reassured him, caressing his cheeks.

I crouched beside them. “Your mother is right, little man. You’re not going anywhere. You’re safe here.”

“Here ?” Selina repeated, her eyebrows drawing together.

“Yes, here,” I answered in English, standing up, forcing her to look up at me.

“Absolutely not,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “I don’t trust you. Your brother wants to contact Antonio.” She stepped back slightly. My jaw tightened at the accusation and I stepped toward her, lifting a hand to grab her arm, but she flinched violently.

“No ! Don’t hurtMamma!” Rafael shouted in English, suddenly punching my thigh.

Selina tried to restrain him with her free hand, “Rafael,Angelomio, calm down.” But the boy refused to stop.

I bent down and grabbed his small arms, lifting him to my eye level. The sudden movement surprised him, and he stopped struggling.

“Listen to me, boy, because I’ll only say this once—I will never hurt your mother, nor will I ever hurt you. Never.”

I kept my voice firm but soft, locking eyes with him.

“Do you understand ?” his green eyes—so much like his mother’s—widened, and after a second, he nodded.

“Good,” I said, setting him down and ruffling his hair, “and I hope you understand as well that you’re staying here,” I added, looking at Selina, who now seemed utterly lost.

“Absolutely not,” another voice echoed—this time from the woman sitting up on the couch, groaning.

“Sienna !” Selina exclaimed, rushing toward her sister.

Sienna swayed dangerously, and before she could fall, Sacha grabbed her arm to steady her, a concerned look on his face.

“Don’t touch me, you !” She tried to pull away, but she was too weak.

Selina hurried to her bag, which I had left near the entrance, and pulled out a syringe, placing it on the coffee table.

“What is that?” Sacha asked, frowning, “insulin. Sienna is diabetic,” Selina answered as she removed the cap from the needle.

“Diabetic ?” Sacha repeated, his jaw tightening as he helped the pale and trembling woman sit down.

Selina lifted her sister’s skirt and injected the insulin into her thigh through her stockings with practiced precision.

“It’ll be okay, Sienna. I gave you the injection, you’ll be fine,” she reassured her, rubbing her leg gently.

Sienna nodded weakly, offering a small smile before letting her head fall back against the couch, her lips trembling. Sacha remained beside her, his fists clenched, his eyes glued to her.

---