Chapter 211
ARIA’S POV
My eyes opened slowly, heavy like they had weights on them. Everything was blurry at first, and my body felt strange, like I had been Costing serpentare fil away and had just crashed back into myself. My head hurt, a deep dull pain that throbbed behind my eyes. The light in the mom was seft, ant for height, but still enough to make me blink a few times before my vision adjusted. It took me a second to remember where I was. This wasn’t a britpital. It was the guest room in the house. The sheets smelled like clean cotton and something warm and familiar.
When I tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over me and I groaned softly. That was when I felt a hand on mine. I turned my head, and there he was. Matteo. He was sitting beside the bed, hunched over slightly, his hands clasped like he had been praying or trying not to fall apart. His eyes were fixed on my face, and the moment he saw me looking at him, everything changed in his expression. Relief, worry, something deeper that made my throat tighten.
“Matteo,” I whispered. My voice cracked like old paper.
He was up in an instant, gently touching my face. “You’re awake. Thank God,” he breathed, then looked around like he didn’t even know what to do first. “You need water. Hold on.”
He poured from a glass that was already on the nightstand, helped me sit up slowly, and held the cup to my lips like I was something precious and fragile. The water tasted like life. Cold, clean, perfect. I drank it all, then leaned back into the pillows, breathing slowly.
“Thank you,” I said softly. My fingers were still curled around his, and he didn’t let go.
“You scared me, Aria,” he said, his voice low and full of emotion. “You scared all of us.”
“I feel like shit,” I muttered. My head still ached and my limbs felt like they didn’t belong to me.
Matteo let out a small laugh and ran a hand through his messy hair. “You still look better than Dante in the mornings,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Right on cue, the door opened and Dante walked in like he had been waiting just outside. His eyes were dark with concern, but he smiled when he saw me awake. “Glad to see you haven’t died yet,” he said dryly, coming closer. He leaned down and kissed my cheek, his hand brushing my arm.
“Hey,” I said, smiling faintly. I reached out and grabbed his hand. He held it tightly.
“You’ve been out for six hours,” Matteo said, sitting back down but keeping close. “We were going to wait one more hour before dragging that doctor back here.”
I blinked. “Doctor?”
“He’s been coming here since you passed out,” Dante explained. “Home service. Discreet. Paid well.”
Of course. Nothing about them was ever halfway. If they needed a doctor, they brought him to the house.
“Where’s Enzo?” I asked quietly.
That was when they both exchanged a look. Matteo’s jaw tightened. Dante exhaled slowly.
“He had to deal with something,” Matteo said first. Then Dante added, “Valentina.”
I closed my eyes for a second, not surprised, just… tired. Everything hurt. Not just my body. My heart too.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Just okay.”
Dante nodded. He turned toward the door and opened it slightly. “She’s awake,” he said, and a moment later, the doctor entered.
He looked uncomfortable in the room, maybe because he had been surrounded by dangerous men for hours or maybe because he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I almost felt bad for him. He came forward with soft steps, checking my vitals, asking me some questions. I answered everything in a quiet voice. My chest hurt a little when I breathed too deep. He said it was normal, told me to rest. I nodded. I didn’t have the energy to argue.
1/2
Chapter 211
When he left, Dante walked him out, muttering something about giving him extra pay if he never breathed a word of this to anyone
“I’m hungry,” I said as soon as the door closed again.
Matteo looked surprised, then smiled. “That’s a good sign.”
“I’ll make you something.” Dante called from the hallway.
“You?” Matteo said, loudly. “You can’t even make toast without burning it.”
“That happened one time,” Dante argued, stepping back into the room. “One time.”
I laughed. A short, breathy sound. But then I winced. Laughing still hurt. Matteo gave me a warning look.
“Don’t make her laugh,” he told Dante. “She’s injured.”
“Shut up, I’m a chef,” Dante said, ignoring him. “You want eggs or pasta, Aria?”
“Surprise me,” I said with a smile.
As they argued about who was worse in the kitchen, I just leaned back into the pillows and watched them. Their banter was soft, easy, like brothers who had been doing this their whole lives. It made me feel warm inside. It made me feel safe.
Then the door opened again. This time, it was Chiara. Her eyes were puffy, her face blotchy. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all.
“Chiara,” I whispered.
She didn’t say anything. She just rushed forward and knelt beside the bed, laying her head on my shoulder as she started to cry again. Deep, aching sobs that shook her whole body.
As Chiara cried against me, I kept my arm around her, gently swaying a little like I used to when my mom held me after nightmares. It felt like the only thing I could give right now, and I wanted her to know I was still here, even if I was hurting too. My chest still ached, and the soreness in my limbs.I wasn’t thinking about the pain anymore. I was thinking about how strange it all was, how everything in my life had twisted into something I could barely recognize. Just a few months ago, I was someone else. I had a different routine, a different kind of loneliness, a different kind of pain. Now I was in a house full of people who bickered like family, who protected me like something valuable, who risked everything to pull me out of the dark. I felt like I was floating somewhere between fear and love, between the chaos and the comfort of being wanted. It was confusing and beautiful and terrifying all at once. My fingers moved slowly through Chiara’s hair as I stared past her at the soft glow of the lamp in the corner, and I thought about all the little moments that led us here. The look on Enzo’s face when I woke up once and caught him watching me sleep. The way Matteo always touched me like I was breakable, even when i wasn’t. The way Dante’s voice lowered when he was worried about me, how he never said it, but I could feel it. And now this. Chiara, broken open in my arms, needing comfort I didn’t know I had left to give, and me giving it anyway because that’s what we do for each other now. We carry the weight. We don’t let it fall.
I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close, running my fingers through her hair slowly. I didn’t say much. Just let her cry. She needed to cry. I needed to hold her. We stayed like that for a while. Just breathing. Just being alive.
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