33. Stefania

The Bianco family gathers in the hospital waiting room and barely moves while the Don goes into surgery. Their anxiety sits thick like a cloud over everyone's head, and I do my best to comfort Davide as much as possible, mostly by sitting close next to him and holding his hand.

Only the oldest brother Simon is missing. When I ask Elena why, she shakes her head and looks like an anvil's sitting on her shoulders. "Someone's got to run the family. He'd be here if he could."

Davide sits in the corner of the room and doesn't speak to anyone, not even his mother when she tries to engage with him. His sister Laura asks him questions to draw him out, but he ignores her too. I stay by his side and hold his hand for hours, not once trying to push him into speaking, because I know that's not my place. I want to be there for him but I also want to give him as much space as I can, so I settle for something in between. A touch here, a whisper there, with no expectations of a reply. At best, I get small nods and the occasional stare, but he doesn't push me away, and he doesn't ask me to stop.

That whole day is a blur. I bring everyone lunch and make sure they're okay, pushing myself harder than I need to, but I'm the only person in this room who isn't emotionally devastated. I like Alessandro, but I barely know him, and while I want him to pull through and I'll feel extremely sorry if he doesn't, I'm not in danger of losing a father or a husband. Which means I have the bandwidth to take on more, like fetching Freddie a change of clothes, and bugging the nurses for any information.

Freddie is a total mess, alternating between putting on a brave face and crying into her hands. I get her tea and coffee and try to be as comforting as I can, but I'm still a stranger to these people, and I'm so incredibly aware that I'm out of my depth.

But it doesn't matter. Davide's my priority, and I make sure to do what I can for him, even if it isn't much.

When the doctor enters and announces that Alessandro is alive and in recovery, the relief in the room is almost painful. Freddie cries again, though I think out of relief more than grieving, but Davide still will barely look up from the floor. I try to get him to go for a walk with me, but he only grunts and shakes his head.

"He won't be conscious for some time," the doctor explains, a middle-aged man with an air of competence about him.

"I'd estimate at least a few hours before anyone can see him. Please, folks, go home and get some rest, and I'll personally call the second he's able to take visitors."

One by one, the family leaves. Elena and Laura go home first; they're escorted by a whole slew of Bianco soldiers. It takes a while, but I manage to convince Freddie to go home a few hours later when it's clear that we won't be able to see the Don anytime soon.

But Davide won't leave. I can tell this is killing him, and I don't know how to help. That's the hardest part, knowing that he's suffering, but being so totally unable to do anything about it.

And I want to do something. I want to kiss him and tell him it will be okay, but I don't know that. I lost my father when I was young and while it was one of the most emotionally horrible times in my life, I healed from it and life moved on. That's what happens with loss. People keep going, plodding forward, stuck in the flow of days and weeks, and even if that grieving never completely goes away like a faint stain on a pale bedspread, it does get to the point where the hurting isn't agony anymore.

"I started it," he whispers once his mother is out of the room and we've been alone for almost a half hour.

I lean against him and wrap my fingers through his. He's so warm and he smells so good, and I shouldn't be thinking about the way his hands feel on my body, but I can't help it. Even in a hospital at a terrible, low point in his life, I still have stupid horny-brain for him.

"You didn't do this," I say, desperate to find a way in through his defenses, because then I might be able to take on some of his hurt.

"But I did." He looks at me and his gaze is deeply haunted. "I saw Uncle Luciano and I thought I was over it. He's just a man, an old man now, and I'm so much bigger than him. I thought I could just walk up to him and kill him, and that would be the end of it. No more nightmares. No more panic attacks. I could crush him and heal myself and maybe be a normal man for once in my fucking life. Then I got mad, and I decided to really go for it, and I was exposed. I was stupid, baby, so fucking stupid. I let my emotions get the better of me, and Dad got himself shot trying to save my life."

I heard a version of that story earlier in the day from Elena. But in her telling, Simon claimed the meeting had been a trap from the start, and Santoro's men were waiting to kill them the second they walked out on that pier. It was only their own impeccable planning and the chaos of the crowd that kept things from turning into a huge disaster with all three of them dead on the ground.

"You didn't make Santoro try to kill you." I kiss his chin and his cheek. I wish I could melt my head into his so he could read my thoughts, at least for a second. "He was going to do what he did no matter what. Your father saved your life because he loves you. You're not broken, Davide."

"I should have done something." Davide blinks at me and some semblance of him begins to fade back into view. "I should've been the one jumping on my father, not the other way around. I was selfish, baby."

"Then you'd be on that hospital bed right now, and you might be dead. I'm sorry your father is hurt, but I'm not sorry you're safe. You can't sit here and torture yourself over something you can't change. You did nothing wrong."

"I know." He leans back and stares at the ceiling. "I should be on the street right now killing every single Santoro soldier I can find."

"That's not what I meant," I say, feeling like I'm completely out of control here. The depth of his sadness is almost painful. I want to throw him a rope and reel him back, but I don't think he'd take it, even if I could. "None of this is your fault. You have to see that."

"It's just like it was all those years ago." He speaks very softly and squeezes my hand hard. "My father came to save me from Santoro again, only this time he didn't make it back out."

"He's going to be okay."

But Davide doesn't respond. I lean against him, resting my head on his shoulder, and I wish I could draw away whatever pain's still causing him to blame himself for everything.

* * *

I finally manageto convince him to head home for a shower and something to eat. But a few hours later, the hospital calls, and everyone piles into Don Bianco's private room in the far corner of the building guarded by two very large men in conspicuous jackets. The staff ignores them like they don't exist, and I wonder how much money it takes to get treated like this. But it turns out that we're in the Bianco Critical Care Ward, and that explains a lot.

Don Bianco is awake and speaking when I arrive with Davide. He instantly goes to his father's side while I linger toward the back of the group, feeling like an outsider again. Davide's whole body leans toward his father like an arrow launched from a bow, and it makes me feel a little better seeing him so animated as he touches his father's arm and speaks to him quietly.

"Good job getting him home for a little while," Freddie says, coming up next to me and giving me a side hug. "I'm sorry I wasn't in a good place and couldn't do it myself."

"That shouldn't be your responsibility," I say and hug her back. "I'm sorry this is happening. I'm just doing the best I can for him, that's all."

"He's a lucky man to have you." Freddie beams and it fills me with so much warmth I feel my cheeks turn red. "We're all lucky to have you." She guides me into the group of Bianco children, and Elena makes room for me without a second glance. Even Laura gives me a slight nod, which isn't exactly the same as welcoming me with a kiss and a hug, but it's better than threatening to kill me. It's like I've become a part of them in my own way, not quite an insider, but closer than I have any right to be.

And I like it. I like how close they are, how much they seem to love each other, how much they care. My family's close too, but my parents are both dead now, and my brothers are busy raising children and loving their wives and spending every waking moment managing the affairs of the Famiglia. I was always an afterthought with them, always standing just on the margins of everything and watching as their lives trickled past.

My brothers love me. I know they do. Only they still don't know what to do with me.

But here, I'm in the thick of things. I shuffle over next to Davide and he nods to me, the color in his face better than it has been all day, and he puts an arm across my shoulders. I lean into him and feel marginally better as his warmth covers me.

"I might as well make it official," Don Bianco says from his bed. His voice is weak and he looks so much smaller. Alessandro is normally a big man, vivacious and alive, the sort of man who draws looks and has his own gravity. Right now, he's barely holding on. "Simon will run the Famiglia. He's the temporary Don. I'm stepping back until I'm physically healthy enough to retake the role."

"I'll do what I have to," Simon says, nodding to his father.

"Spread my command throughout the Famiglia," Alessandro says. He sighs and looks at the ceiling, and for a moment, he closes his eyes. I'm worried he's falling asleep, but he shakes his head, and looks from face to face. He lingers on mine for a moment, and I swear, he smiles.

Everyone's hanging on his words, the hush thick with suspense.

"There must be an answer for this," Alessandro says and I notice Freddie's stricken face. She's ashen and trembling beside her husband. "I don't like it. I don't want to put my family through this. But you are clever, Simon. And you are strong, Davide. With the help of your sisters, I have all the faith in the world that we can go to war with Santoro and crush him."

Another silence falls over the room. Freddie's head bows and she crosses herself.

"If only Angelo were here," Elena murmurs to Davide.

"He'd fucking love this," he whispers back and grins.

Simon shoots his siblings a hard look and they stop talking.

"I understand what I'm asking of you," Alessandro continues. "Ultimately, this will be Simon's decision, and if he choose peace over war, I will respect that decision. But I must make my opinion known. As much as I want to avoid this, your Don was nearly killed, and we will look weak and pathetic if there isn't a response. We have no choice in the matter. Santoro must die, and all of his soldiers must be either killed or banished from our city. I'm sorry, but it's how things must be."

He lapses into silence again, this time looking exhausted. Freddie leans over her husband and speaks to him in low tones as Davide gives me a look and steers me away from the group. Simon's talking with Elena and Laura, and I step out into the hall with my husband.

I touch his hand. He leans against the wall near a window and the two guards give us some space. I can tell he's anxious, but nowhere near as ruined as he had been earlier in the day, which I guess is a step in the right direction.

"Things are going to get bad," he says, looking down at the parking lot outside. "Dad wouldn't ask this if it wasn't important though."

"Are you sure it has to be a war?" I step closer and touch his hand. "I remember what war's like. My family just went through one, and it's awful." I can still see my brothers, stressed and on edge. I remember Dante's funeral and the hollow, horrible way my brothers looked standing around his headstone. And in the end, even though they won and killed their enemies, I can't see how they're better off.

"It'll be Simon's call in the end, but I need you to know something." He looks at me and pulls me closer. He raises my fingers to his lips. "I'll keep you safe."

It hadn't occurred to me for a second that he wouldn't. "I know that."

He nods like he needed to hear me say it and I lean my face against his chest.

War's coming to the Bianco Famiglia. It feels like I just escaped from one brutal fight, and now I'm thrown back into another, and this time I don't know what's going to happen to the people I care about.