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He coughs, blood spattering his lips. "After you were adopted, I joined them… watch over you from within… It was a mistake... allowing Vladimir to meet you ..." Blood now stains his teeth, and he has trouble swallowing.
"Promise me, Tatiana," Viktor rasps, his grip on the gun slackening as his strength wanes. "Live your life free of this darkness… find happiness... with Philippe."
I choke back a sob, nodding fervently. "I promise, Uncle. I promise."
"Good," he whispers, a hint of a smile playing on his bloodied lips. "I love you, my dear niece. Remember... who you are, Maria’s daughter. And remember my name…”
The man's eyes flicker closed as he slips away, his body going limp in my arms. He’s gone, leaving me with a torrent of unanswered questions, a shattered heart, and a profound sense of loss that threatens to consume me.
"Come on, we need to go," Philippe urges, pulling gently on my shoulder. “Just give me a moment,” I shrugged Philippe off and stayed by Uncle Viktor's side.
"Uncle," I whisper through the tears streaming down my face. "I'll never forget you... and everything you've done for me." I take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing myself one final moment of grief before steeling myself.
When I finally release Viktor's body, laying him gently on the ground, I feel as though I'm leaving behind a piece of my soul.
"Alright," I say, my voice hoarse and weak. "I'm ready."
Philippe moves closer, wrapping a strong arm around me and lifting me effortlessly off the ground. His embrace is protective, a shelter from the storm raging within me as he carries me through the carnage toward the exit.
"?atiana," Philippe murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. "I promise you, we will give him a proper funeral. One that honors his memory and his sacrifice. But right now, we need to focus on surviving."
"Thank you," I whisper, clutching onto him as if he's my lifeline in a sea of despair as he guides me out of this psychotic night.
Epilogue
Tatiana
As the front door of our home closes behind us, a sense of relief washes over me. Today, I realized I don't want to live without Philippe. Now, more than ever before, I need his strong presence to comfort me. And all I can focus on now is knowing whether our baby is safe.
"Let's get Dr. Rossini to check on you and the baby," Philippe says gently. His piercing blue eyes meet mine, filled with concern.
"Grazie, amore mio," – Thank you, my love – I reply, my voice quivering slightly from the emotional weight of this day. Philippe leads me to his room. We sit on the bed, waiting for the doctor’s arrival.
"Ti stavo aspettando tutta la notte. Sapevo che saresti venuto,”– I was waiting for you all night. I knew you’d come–I tell him.
He leans forward and grazes his lips against mine softly. “I’ll always come.”
I reach over and put my hands under his shirt, reaching for his back. But, to my surprise, he pulls back. There’s a frown on his face, a look of worry I don’t like.
“Tatiana…” he begins, his eyes faltering to meet mine. His gaze tumbles over my dress, now in shards. “I must ask, even though I don’t wish to…”
“What is it, Philippe?” I question, dread clawing through me.
Philippe turns to me, his gaze lingering on my disheveled clothing. "Tatiana, what happened to you? Why are your clothes like this?" he asks, his voice laced with worry.
I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I should burden him with the truth. But as I look into his eyes, I realize that I can't keep secrets from the man who holds my heart. "One of my father's men tried to assault me," I confess, feeling a lump rise in my throat. "But I fought him off."
Philippe's fists clench at his sides, anger and protectiveness radiating from him. But before he can speak, I reach out and place my hand on his arm, feeling the intricate lines of his veins. "I'm okay, Philippe," I reassure him, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me. "He didn't hurt me. I promise."
"Sono arrivato troppo tardi,”–I was too late – he moans, taking his head in his hands and falling to the floor. I bend lower and take his hands in mine.
“You were NOT,” I shout at him. “You listen to me, Don Philippe Accardo. You were not late. You saved me. You saved our child.”
Philippe's eyes darken with a mixture of anger and sadness as he processes my confession. He pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest. The beat of his heart resonates through me, grounding me in this emotional storm.
"Hey," I say softly, pulling back to look into his eyes. "I'm okay. Really."
He studies me for a moment, scrutinizing every bruise and scrape that mars my body. Finally satisfied, he nods, though the tension doesn't fully leave his body.
