Beneath His Shadows

CHAPTER 3

“How could I be so stupid to come out alone?” I murmured under my breath, trying to navigate without my cane.

Every step felt uncertain, with my hands slightly outstretched, searching for anything to guide me.

Just then, I heard his voice again.

“Wait….”

I cut him off, panic setting in. I turned to run, but my foot faltered without the help of my cane, sending me stumbling.

Just as I was about to hit the ground, hurried footsteps approached, strong arms holding me steady at the last second.

"You shouldn't run, " he said, his voice calm and laced with worry as he gently lifted me to my feet.

But I couldn’t take it. The sympathy in his tone was too much. Shame burned in my chest. I pulled away from his touch, shaking my head.

Without looking back, without thinking about my cane, I ran.

I ran toward the sound of chattering voices, my heart pounding. Then, amidst the murmurs, I heard a voice that grounded me.

"Ma?" I called hesitantly.

"Oh, Sofia! I was just about to come looking for you. Where did you go?" my mother asked, concerned.

"I..." The words stuck in my throat. I had no answer.

Oblivious to my silence, my mother turned back to Mrs. David. "Thank you for having us, Evelyn. I hope Beth gets into a good college."

"Oh, thank you," Mrs. David replied. "And how is Sofia’s eye treatment going?"

"We're expecting an update from the doctor soon," my mother answered.

"Let me know how it goes, okay?" Mrs. David said.

With that, we left.

The drive home, the car's engine hummed as my mother shifted quietly beside me, and the sound of traffic drifted in from outside.

Everything else faded in the background

Only one person filled my thoughts.

Him.

**********

She stumbled towards the door, her determination to leave evident despite her shaky steps. I considered following her but hesitated. Just then, my eyes landed on something on the floor.

Her cane.

I leaned down to retrieve it, my hands wrapping smoothly around the smooth handle. She must have dropped it when those girls pushed her. The thought sent a fresh wave of anger surging through me. How could they be so cruel?

I let out a loud breath, shaking off the emotion. I pushed the thought aside. Tucking the cane under my arm, I vowed to return it to her. With any luck, fate would bring us together again.

I tucked the cane into my car, turning back to the house. The door to Mr David's office was slightly opened, casting a warm glow into the hallway.

I stepped inside. “Thank you, David, for having me tonight.”

He looked up, offering a tired but genuine smile. “Zain, it’s always a pleasure. Don’t be a stranger.”

I nodded and shook his hand firmly and headed out.

I got into my car, my thoughts consumed by her.

They way she'd fled in embarrassment, her face burning with shame. It didn't sit well with me. She didn’t deserve that.

I pulled out my phone and dialled, acting on instinct. The call was answered immediately.

"Adrian," I said, my voice firm. "I need you to scan through the guest list from David’s party. Find someone for me."

"On it, Capo," the reply came back instantly. I ended the call , tightened my grip on the wheel, and sped up the road, the city lights blurring.

I'd barely stepped foot in my house when my phone rang. Dante.

Receiving a call from him at the dead of night usually meant trouble. I answered immediately.

"Are you good?" I asked, already sensing something was wrong. Dante never called unless it was urgent. He handled everything on his own.

He struggled to speak as his breath was laboured. "Ambush... we've been ambushed." He managed to cough out.

Silence.

“What!?” I yelled, my fingers crushing the phone in my hand. No response. The call had gone dead.

I immediately picked up my key and made my way to the warehouse.

When I arrived, flames covered it, thick smoke filling the air.

Tyler, one of my loyal soldiers, stumbled out, blood streaking his cheek. "Capo," he gasped, coughing. "They've been taken… to the city hospital."

I swallowed hard. "Casualties?"

His eyes darkened. "We barely made it out."

A muscle in my jaw twitched. I exhaled sharply, then pinched the hood of my car, grounding myself before climbing back in.

Not just Dante.

Not just my second-in-command.

My brother.

I wasn’t losing him. Not tonight.

I arrived at the city hospital in record time, my mind a blur. As I pushed through the lobby, I spotted Adrian at the reception desk.

"Anything?" I demanded as I approached him.

Adrian stopped and turned to me, his expression grim. "He's in surgery. Brought in with serious injuries."

I felt a pang in my stomach. My breath escaped raggedy as I sank into my chair, hands filled together. Memories long buried resurfaced, taking me back to the first day I met Dante. A scrawny kid messy-haired teenager caught stealing a plate of fried rice from a run-down diner. The owner pinned him on the wall, threatening to beat him senseless.

I stepped in. Paid for his food.

And just like that, he latched onto me, like a lost puppy finally finding a home.

I was eighteen, already shouldering the weight of the Don position after my father’s passing. I didn’t need a friend. But something about Dante, his fire, his desperation, made me offer him a way out. A job. A purpose.

A family.

Now, I sat here, waiting for news that could change everything.

Just then, the OR door swung open, and a tired-looking doctor stepped out.

“Relations to Dante Hernandez?”

I shot up from my seat. "Here."

The doctor glanced at me, waiting. “Mr…?”

"Ricci," I answered, my voice firm.

He nodded. "The surgery is over, Mr Ricci. Dante is still critical, but you can see him now." I sighed tiredly. "When will he wake up?"

The doctor sighed. “He’s in an induced coma to give his body time to heal. Give it a day.” He patted my shoulder and, leaving me standing there, staring at the doors standing between me and my brother.

A day.

I just had to hold on for a day.

I walked to his ward, my head hanging, each step weighed down by everything crashing at once.

The strong scent of antiseptic and detergent filled my nose, blending like a second skin. I never like hospitals

As I stepped inside, the sight before me sent a deep, unbearable ache through my chest.

A sour taste left lingering on my lip.

Dante, my brother and my right hand, lay unmoving on the hospital bed, his body unnaturally still.

The machines beeping softly around him, a cruel reminder that he was alive but barely hanging on.

Tubes ran along his arms and upper chest, and his face, usually so full of life, looked pale and empty under the light.

He was never one to be weak or give up. He never backed down from a fight.

He was the fiercest, the wildest one. He always had my back. But now? Now, he looked dead, and I hated it.

My eyes, teary, a mix of fury and grief weighing heavily on my chest that it hurts physically.

Just as quickly as the grief came, it turned into something else. Something darker. Something greater.

Fury.

It spread through my veins like a wildfire, pushing away any hesitation or doubt.

My nails dug into my palms as I stared at Dante, who was barely alive.

Whoever did this, whoever dared to step into my territory, made the biggest mistake of their miserable lives. They should better start running into hiding.

I will find them.

I will hunt them down.

And I will tear them, limb by limb, bones by bones till they beg for the angel of death to take them.

The rhythmic beeping, the too-clean smell, the weight of helplessness, Dante, it was too much.

I needed space.

I stormed out of the ward, my hands still trembling terribly and anxiously.

I raked a hand through my hair, trying to force my mind to calm down, to focus.

It all played over and over in my head, each image feeding the fire inside me.

They would pay.

Just then, as I turned a corner, I saw her.

She stood by the water dispenser, her fingers lightly grazing over the surface as she searched for the button.

Her cane, slightly against the walls of the hospital, untouched, as if it belonged there.

For a moment, the surge of rage flared within me suddenly stopped.

I forgot about the blood on my hands. The fire burning in my chest. The need for revenge.

All I could see was…her

Sofia.

I took slow and calm steps, not wanting to startle her.

She stood by the water dispenser, her fingers on its surface as she tried to get water.

But the cup wasn’t placed correctly, and I could see the slight crease between her brows, the small hesitation in her movements.

I watched her for a while.

Silently, I reached out and took the cup.

My fingers slightly danced against hers, but even in that brief contact, I noticed how cold her fingers were. Was she always this cold? Was it just today?

I wondered if she could sense my presence if she had any idea of who I was.

Once the cup was filled up l, I turned back to her and carefully gave her.

"Thank you," she said, barely above a whisper.

"You're welcome, love,"

The words slipped from my lips, and she went completely still.

"You!" she suddenly screamed, her voice a sharp mix of shock and panic, cracking through the silence.