Page 20 of Tragic Empire
“Yes, soooo funny,” Jade drawls sarcastically. “Why don’t you entertain your hysterical nephew while we find a bite, hmm?”
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matteo says with a grin, sitting up and holding out his hands. Jade huffs at him but her lips can’t hide her wry smile as she passes him her baby.
Cesar wastes no time slapping his hands on either side of Matteo’s face, babbling happily. “That’s right,” he says with a boastful grin. “Uncle Matteo is your favorite, isn’t he? Stinky Uncle Apollo can’t even compete, can he? No, he can’t.”
Even with the lingering effects of the medicine in my system, watching the exchange tugs at my heartstrings. Before meeting Jade, the only thing I knew about Matteo Moretti was that he was a chaotic mobster, not to be underestimated by his playful demeanor. Now he’s this infectiously goofy but protective figure in Jade’s life, baby-talking to her son like it’s second nature. He lights up every room, all the while remaining an effective killing machine.
“Come,” Jade insists, taking me by the hand. “Martha made some soup that should be nice and easy on your stomach. We have leftover pasta too, if you’re feeling up to it.”
“Soup sounds like a good start,” I agree quietly, letting her lead me to the kitchen.
Seconds later, I’m seated at the kitchen counter, watching as Jade heats up a pot of soup on the stove. She insisted on doing it herself, instructing me to sit and sip on a cold glass of lemon water.
“How are you feeling physically?” Jade asks, absently stirring over the stove. “Doc is going to want to check on you again soon.”
“Sore,” I admit, thumb tracing small beads of condensation on my cup. “I don’t remember what he said he gave me, but I feel foggy, too. Like I’m here but I’m not.”
Frowning, she replies, “I’m sorry. I wish I could make it better.”
“You’re already doing so much,” I tell her earnestly. “I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have you.”
Her lip trembles and her eyes go glassy, but she sniffs back the impending emotions and tries to smile. “You’ll always have me, Ana.”
I feel the weight of her promise settle in my chest, it battles through my numbed defenses and wraps around my heart in a warm caress.
“Thank you,” I rasp, rubbing my sternum over my shirt, hoping to absorb and spread the sensation. “Taking me in… you and your family didn’t just help me, Jade. Your brothers saved Killian by acting so quickly. I won’t ever forget that. I owe you?—”
“Nothing,” she cuts in. “You owe me absolutely nothing because if the roles were reversed, you’d do exactly the same for me.”
She’s entirely right. I would.
Thankfully, nothing like what happened to me will ever happen to Jade. She has an army of a family at her back, and I’m so grateful that she does. Her precious soul has been through enough tragedy, and I hope from the bottom of my heart that she won’t have any more.
Clearing her throat so that she doesn’t cry, she pours the brothy soup into a small blue bowl, puts a spoon into it, and passes it over the counter.
It doesn’t take long for me to finish the offering. Despite knowing that Martha is an excellent cook, and enjoying her food repeatedly in the past, every bite is bland. It’s not her fault, I think. I felt the distinct craving for sustenance in my gut, but I wasn’t quite hungry.
I think anything I would have tried to eat would taste unappetizing. So much so, that when Jade asks if I want some pasta or anything else, I decline. I know I should fit more nutrients in, but I can’t find the strength or the desire to eat another bite.
“Are you okay to see Doc now?” she asks, worrying her bottom lip. “He’ll just want to check your vitals, nothing crazy.”
Mostly, I want to go back to bed and stare at the ceiling until I inevitably pass out, but I agree to see the doctor instead. He’s already here, and I don’t want to worry Jade by refusing.
“I can have him meet us back in my room? Or we can just go back to the living room if you’re comfortable?”
Going back upstairs sounds like a lot of work for my sensitive legs, and the soup didn’t provide me with much energy. But I don’t say any of that, deciding on, “The living room works,” instead.
Dmitri, Matteo, and the twin babies are all still there when we arrive. Remo must have disappeared elsewhere, but Ivan and Anatoly are also present now. Isabella sits peacefully in her Uncle Ivan’s lap, watching some colorful cartoon on the telly. Meanwhile, Cesar is being passed back and forth between Dmitri and Matteo, like it’s a game.
Like they somehow knew we’d be ready for them, Dante strolls into the room, Doc at his side.
“Ana,” Jade’s father greets softly. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to discuss our next steps with you after Doc checks you out.”
“That’s fine,” I say automatically. I want any updates he has and to hear whatever plan he and his sons have thought up. Maybe I’ll be able to think more clearly if I have something concrete to hyper fixate on.
“Next steps?” Jade asks, nose scrunched up like she hasn’t been updated.
“Ana can discuss it with you after, if she wants,” Dante tells her calmly. There’s a subtleness to his authority when he’s speaking to his daughter rather than his sons. He doesn’t leave room for argument, but he isn’t quite stern either.
