Page 179 of The One
I tap out another message.
Me: Time to come home,amore. You need a good meal and a rest. I made your favorite lasagna. Let me take care ofyounow.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Mateo
Dolcezza:Time to come home, amore. You need a good meal and a rest. I made your favorite lasagna. Let me take care of you now.
Mari has been checking in with me regularly, and I’m grateful. It doesn’t replace having her here, but in the midst of all this darkness, it’s a flicker of light.
I stare at her message, one word standing out like a neon sign.
Home.
My chest tightens. A lump forms in my throat that’s hard to swallow. Sheismy home.
My gaze shifts to Tiero, the brother I’ve looked up to my entire life, the one who has always protected me, had my back no matter what, and whose strength I’ve never once doubted.
The sight of him now is something I can’t reconcile, can’t accept. And yet, no amount of denial will change the brutal reality.
I feel like I’ve aged a decade in the three days since Tiero got shot, sitting by his bedside, watching him struggle to breathe. He sleeps most of the time, his face pale, his body weak, but when he’s awake, we manage a few words.
He knows I’m here. That has to count for something.
For so long, he’s been my only family. Even beforepapà’sdeath.
Aftermammapassed, our father was never the same. His grief swallowed him whole and for a long time, it was like I’d lost them both. But Tiero was always there for me, through everything.
And now… I’m building something new. My own family.
I want both, what Mari and I are building and my brother. God, please. Let me have both.
I squeeze Tiero’s hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles before I lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His skin is warm but too pale, his breathing steady but weak.
“I’ll be back in the morning,” I murmur. “Hopefully with good news that we found you a lung.”
I linger for a second longer, unwilling to leave. Then, with a deep breath, I straighten and head for the door, texting Mari back.
Me:Okay. Leaving now.
Santino and his men snap to attention as I step into the hallway. Santino’s posture is rigid, his expression grim.
He’s finally filled me in on what happened with Ella in Brazil, at least, as much as he witnessed. I still have countless questions, but bringing it up with Tiero is not an option. His will to fight already seems fragile, and I refuse to remind him of the distress he must be carrying.
“Stay with him,” I tell him. “No one unauthorized gets in. Double-check every doctor, every nurse. Make sure they are who they say they are and supervise them.”
His jaw tightens. “Of course, sir.”
It wasn’t his fault Tiero got shot, but I can see the guilt in his eyes. As head of security, he takes his job seriously, but even he can’t anticipate everything.
I rest a hand on his shoulder, offering a brief squeeze. “Thanks, Santino.”
A stiff nod. “We’ll keep him safe, sir.”
I nod back, then turn and walk away, each step heavier than the last as my entourage falls in step with me.
Leaning back against the headrest in the car, I close my eyes. I’m exhausted. I just want to get home, bury my face in Mari’s hair, and let her warmth chase away the cold sinking feeling trying to creep into my bones. She makes everything better.
