Chapter 9 - THE LIGHT AT BELLINI HOUSE
I collapsed into the plastic waiting room chair, the breath knocked out of my lungs. Matteo whimpered, sensing my terror, and clung tighter to my neck.
“He made me promise to give it to you,” the surgeon repeated, offering a gentle, tired smile, “before he wakes up and asks for you. He’s going to be fine, Mrs. Rossi.”
The relief that crashed over me was so violent I actually dizzy. A sob broke free from my chest, loud and ugly, but I didn't care.
“He’s alive?” I gasped.
“Tough as nails, that one,” the doctor chuckled softly. “The buckshot missed his vital organs. He lost blood, but he’s already demanding to be unhooked from the monitors. He says he has to see his wife and children.”
I stood up, holding the watch tight against my palm. “Take me to him.”
---
One year later.
The sun was shining brightly over the gardens of Bellini House, catching the dew on the manicured lawns.
I sat on the wide, wrap-around porch, sipping a cup of coffee. I wasn't wearing a waitress uniform anymore. I wore a soft white linen dress, my hair pulled back, the silver locket resting over my heart. The broken chain had been replaced, the picture inside restored.
Down on the grass, a beautifully chaotic scene was unfolding.
Vincent, dressed in a casual button-down with his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos, was on his hands and knees in the grass. He was currently serving as a very intimidating climbing gym.
Matteo, now a sturdy, energetic toddler, was sitting triumphantly on Vincent’s back, giggling uncontrollably.
Mia, walking with fierce, determined little steps, marched right up to her father and slapped a bright yellow plastic crown onto his head.
“Princess Daddy,” Mia announced seriously.
Vincent, the most feared man in the city, adjusted the plastic crown with utmost dignity. “Thank you, your Highness.”
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from a place of pure, unadulterated joy.
Vincent looked up at the sound. His dark eyes softened immediately. He carefully rolled over, depositing a giggling Matteo onto the grass, scooped Mia up under one arm, and walked up the porch steps toward me.
He set Mia down to play with her toys, then leaned against the railing next to me.
He reached out, his thumb gently tracing the faded scar on my wrist. It used to be a symbol of my trauma. Now, it was just proof that I survived.
“You’re staring, Mr. Rossi,” I teased softly.
“I’m looking at my whole world,” Vincent replied, his voice a low rumble. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my temple. “Every morning I wake up and I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised, resting my hand flat against his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart.
Julian’s empire was dismantled. The men who hurt me were in prison. The missing pieces of my memory had slowly knitted themselves back together over the last year, anchored by the love of my family.
Matteo ran up the stairs, holding a handful of crushed dandelions. He shoved them proudly into my hand.
“For Ma,” he beamed.
“Thank you, my brave boy,” I smiled, kissing his chubby cheek.
Vincent wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me flush against his chest, resting his chin on my shoulder as we watched our children play in the sun.
We had walked through fire and darkness to find our way back to each other.
May you like
But as the morning sun warmed the porch, and my daughter laughed at her brother chasing a butterfly, I knew the darkness was gone forever.
We were finally, completely, home.
