Chapter 151
Waking up in a hospital is never a good sign. It’s the kind of thing you see in soap operas and swear it will never happen to you. Until it does. My eyes opened slowly, heavy, as if I had slept for a whole decade. The white lights above me blurred my vision, and everything smelled of alcohol and despair. For a moment, I didn’t recognize the world around me. The high-pitched buzzing of the machines, the hurried footsteps in the hallway, and the distant ringing of a telephone made up the soundtrack to my return to the world of the living.
My body seemed to float, too light, as if it didn’t yet belong to reality. My chest, however, was tight, suffocated by an anguish I couldn’t name… until I remembered. Until her name echoed in my mind again.
Veronica.
The memory came like a slap. The revelation. The son. Vincenzo’s words echoing in my head like a looping siren. And then, the fear. The doubt. The collapse. I had passed out.
I turned slightly and felt a weight beside me. Nancy. She was sleeping sitting up, with her face pressed against the edge of the bed, as if she had been watching me all the time. Her messy hair, smeared lipstick and deep, rhythmic breathing revealed how exhausted she was.
I felt a strange warmth in my chest. That crazy woman, with all her versions, was my anchor. Even when I was sinking into chaos.
Before I could say anything, the door slowly opened. And there he was.
Vincenzo.
Tall, imposing, his face carrying an expression I had never seen before: vulnerability. He was wearing a black linen shirt, the first few buttons open, revealing part of the chest I knew so well. But at that moment, he was not the man who dominated me between the sheets. He was just... a man. A lost man.
"You're awake," he said, almost in a whisper.
Nancy stirred, waking up with a light snore and an exaggerated jump.
“Oh, fuck! You’re alive!” she exclaimed, grabbing me by the shoulders. “I thought you’d turned into glitter in the afterlife, Rachel!”
I laughed. Weakly. But I laughed. And it was enough for Nancy to let out a sigh of relief.
“Can you let Rachel breathe, Nancy?” Vincenzo said, serious, but not rude. Just concerned.
She raised her hands in surrender and stepped away from the bed.
“I’ll get coffee. You two... talk. But, hey, don’t make the young lady pass out again, okay, Mr. BDSM?” And she winked at him mischievously before leaving.
We were alone.
He approached slowly, as if he was afraid to touch me. As if I were made of glass.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I... shouldn’t have told you that way.” It all happened so suddenly.
“I needed to know,” I murmured. “I just wasn’t… ready.”
Silence.
He sat down in the armchair next to the bed and ran his hands over his face.
“Rachel, there’s more. I didn’t want to tell you everything at once, but now… I can’t hide it anymore.”
My body stiffened.
“What else?” I asked, my voice breaking.
“Veronica… said the boy is eight years old. And that she hid it from me because… because he was born in a dangerous situation. She was running away. She said the boy… was born while she was hiding from my enemies from the mafia days.”
I swallowed hard.
“And you believe me?”
He hesitated.
“I don’t know. I don’t trust Veronica. But the way she said it… Rachel, she cried. I’ve never seen that woman cry. And she handed me a photo.” He took a folded picture out of his pocket and handed it to me.
My hands were shaking as I unfolded the paper. A boy. Dark hair, striking eyes. Intense. Like Vincenzo’s. My heart skipped a beat.
“He looks just like you,” I whispered, unable to take my eyes off the photo.
“I thought the same thing. But… it could be manipulation. I need to take the test. I need to know.”
I nodded. My head was buzzing.
“What if it’s true?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then he took my hand.
“If it’s true… I’ll admit it. But I don’t want to lose you, Rachel. I love you.”
The words hung in the air like electricity. For the first time, Vincenzo had said it. Not as an impulse in the heat of the moment. Not as a whisper between moans. But with his heart bare.
“Do you love me?” I repeated, in shock.
“I do. And I don’t know when it happened, I just know it happened. And I need you here. With me. With or without this child.
I closed my eyes, feeling the tears threatening to spill over.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Vincenzo. I don’t know how to deal with this kind of… bombshell.”
He nodded, squeezing my hand.
“I know. And I’m not going to pressure you. But I want you to come with me. I want you to be by my side when I face this truth.”
I took a deep breath.
“When are we going to see this child?”
“Tomorrow. She made an appointment at an orphanage in Siena. She said the boy is there. I don’t know why, but… I need to go. And I want you with me.”
I nodded. Still broken inside, but at the same time connected to something I couldn’t explain.
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”
He looked at me with something between relief and sadness.
desire. He leaned over, kissed my forehead and stood up.
"Rest. I'll be back later."
I stood there, with the photo of the boy in my hands and my heart divided between the woman who had made a deal with a mobster and the woman who was now in love with a real man, with a past, with flaws, with a son perhaps hidden. A man who claimed to love me.
And in that moment, I realized...
My life was about to change forever.
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