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But when I open my eyes and glance at him, his expression catches me off guard—a look of deep sorrow and apprehension. My attention snaps back to the surgeon just in time to see his concerned gaze on me. "Are you all right?" he asks, momentarily pausing his clinical recount of Don Angelo's condition.
Confusion and a desperate need to understand crash into me. The weight of Marco's words hit me like a physical blow. The room seems to tilt under my feet as the surgeon's words finally sink in.
My father…Don Angelo…didn't survive the surgery.
A deep ache radiates from my chest, threatening to overtake me. I cling to Marco's arms for support, his steady presence keeping me upright. But even he can't shield me from the crushing news that shatters something fundamental inside me.
A guttural cry escapes my lips before I can stop it, grief engulfing me like a tidal wave. Marco holds me close, a rock against the storm of my despair. But the pain is all-consuming, a torrent that washes over us both.
In this moment of profound loss, everything fades away except for the echo of my heartbreak, the embrace of Marco and his family, and the irrevocable reality that Don Angelo is gone. "Tay!" I call out, tears pouring down my face. They're not just for the father I knew, but for the relationship we would never fully repair. For all the unspoken words and unresolved issues that died with him on that operating table.
My entire being is in ruins, shattered like a fragile vase on hard pavement. In the blink of an eye, my world has been torn apart, my family ripped away from me. My own brother, who once tormented me mercilessly, the heartless monster, gone. My father, who tried to make amends for his mistakes, is forever gone. And the woman I thought was my mother, just a mask of deception. My heart feels like it's been physically ripped out and trampled on, leaving behind a gaping hole that can never be filled. The pain and devastation consuming me is like wildfire, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marco
Leaving Pia in the gentle grasp of sleep, courtesy of the hospital's prescription, grants me peace. Yet there's no rest for the weary, especially not now. With Don Angelo's passing, the responsibility of arranging both his and Gerald's funerals falls heavily on my shoulders. For Gerald, it's a duty I undertake for Pia's sake, despite my personal feelings.
Stepping out, I catch Ron and Xavier on guard duty. Their failure at the cafe is still fresh in my mind, prompting a decision to reassign them within the organization. "Keep her safe. Don't let her out of your sight," I instruct them firmly, my resolve to protect Pia unwavering. "I'll be in the study if needed."
The house is quiet as I descend the stairs, Joshua and Darrel at my heels, embodying the silent strength of the night. To my surprise, Papá is a solitary figure in the dim light of the study, cradling a drink. The sight of him, lost in thought, strikes a chord within me.
After closing the door behind me, I join him, an unspoken understanding bridging the distance. "It's a heavy loss for Pia," Papá begins, his voice soft with empathy. "Perhaps it would be wise to postpone the wedding until we're back in Mexico."
His advice, while grounded in care, doesn't align with my insistence to solidify my bond with Pia legally. "I can't delay the civil wedding, Papá. We need that marriage certificate to bring Pia to Mexico safely."
Understanding yet concerned, he nods. "Make sure to discuss it with Pia. It's ultimately her decision." Then, shifting gears, he delves into matters I hadn't anticipated discussing tonight. The revelation that Pia's biological mother was, in fact, Don Angelo's true wife and the complexities of the Mendoza lineage unveil a new layer of intrigue.
"Pia is the legitimate heir to the Mendoza empire, all its assets and liabilities. She must understand what that entails," Papá emphasizes, revealing the extent of the stakes.
The depth of his insight leaves me with more to contemplate than I had expected. "I'll talk to her and arrange for legal counsel to outline her options," I assure him, my mind already racing with the implications of this newfound information.
Rising to leave, I'm grounded by the reality of my immediate responsibilities. "But first, I have funerals to organize." My voice is steady despite the tumult within.
As I step out of the study, the weight of leadership, the promises I've made to Pia, and the legacy we're about to navigate together settle firmly on my shoulders. Tonight, the Cervantes and the remnants of the Mendoza dynasty stand at a crossroads, and our chosen path will define the future of both families.
Venturing outside, the stillness of the night wraps around me like a familiar cloak. I offer a silent nod to the night guards, their vigilant forms mere shadows against the backdrop of our new home. The cool night air is a balm, soothing the turmoil that churns within me as I take a moment to breathe and feel the peace that nightfall brings.
My feet carry me aimlessly through the backyard, a sanctuary under the vast expanse of a star-studded sky. The moon, a luminous orb in the heavens, bathes everything in a soft, ethereal glow, eliminating the need for artificial light. In this tranquility, I stumble upon a hidden treasure—a waterfall, its gentle cascade a melody in the quiet night.
I hadn't known about this waterfall when I chose this house. My only thought was to provide Pia with the best, a haven—a place we could call ours, where the shadows of our pasts and the challenges we face could be kept at bay, if only for a moment.
A sleek wooden bench, perhaps placed by fate, invites me to rest. I yield, feeling the tension ebb away with each passing second. Leaning back, I close my eyes, silently pleading with the universe to grant me the strength to shield Pia from the pain and navigate our intertwined destinies with grace and fortitude.
Yet, as much as I wish to fast-forward through the anguish and spare Pia and myself from the heartache, I know that's not our path. We must endure, confront the trials head-on, and emerge stronger on the other side.
Gradually, my mind finds a semblance of peace, the sound of the waterfall lulling me into a half-conscious state. Sleep, that elusive reprieve, claims me under the watchful gaze of the stars, offering a brief escape from the reality that awaits with the dawn.
Stirred from my makeshift slumber by the softest of touches, I'm immediately enveloped in the familiar scent of Pia's floral perfume. My lips curve into a smile as I feel her light kisses tracing a path along my jawline, drawing me gently back to consciousness. Opening my eyes, I find her straddling me, her petite form fitting perfectly atop the bench that has served as my unexpected bed.
"You're awake," I murmur. The sight of her, so close and so intent, warms every corner of my heart.
She responds not with words but with action, wrapping her arms around me and continuing her tender assault near my ear, her breath sending shivers down my spine. My hand instinctively finds its way along her nightgown. The fabric is soft and inviting under my touch, luxurious yet sweet, echoing the innocence and depth of our connection.
"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice infused with soothing comfort and playful curiosity, even as her actions awaken a deep yearning within me.
"Just let me, please," she whispers back, her plea vibrating against my skin. "Let me feel you. I need to feel you, feel safe."
