SILK AND SCARS

The sun slowly dipped below the jagged skyline of Milan, shadows stretching across the elegant villas of Brera. Within one of the private villas, Isabella stood in the courtyard beneath the fading light of the evening, her voice calm but commanding as she issued instructions to the security detail. Suddenly, she heard a voice screaming, “Signora Isabella! Signora Isabella!” She turned sharply as a maid came rushing toward her, breathing heavily. “Signora… the nurse is calling for you.” “Tell her I’m coming.” “No,” the maid cut in, shaking her head, her voice trembling, “she said you must come immediately.” The sense of urgency in her voice made Isabella’s chest tighten. “Alright, let’s go.” She dismissed the guards and quickly followed the maid through the long, echoing corridors of the villa. Their footsteps rang against the marble floors. “What happened?” “I don’t know,” the maid stammered. “She only said it was an emergency.” As they reached the heavy oak door of De Luca's master suite, she immediately reached for the door. It flew open. The nurse stepped out, blocking her path. "What is it?" Before the nurse could speak, Isabella cut in, "That was enough," and shoved past the nurse, bursting straight into the room. De Luca lay on the bed, with his body rigid, his breath fractured, His chest convulsing violently. She turned immediately. “Get me my phone! Now!” The maid bolted. But she couldn’t wait. So, she followed after the maid, snatching the phone from the maid's hands. Her fingers shook as she dialed, “Doctor, get here immediately. Now, there’s no time. On the other end, the doctor’s voice came quickly. “I’m on my way. Put the nurse on the phone.” Isabella thrust the phone toward the nurse. Seconds felt like minutes as the nurse explained the symptoms to the doctor. “Signora, I’m coming as fast as I can," the doctor said when Isabella took the phone back. The line went dead. She rushed back into the room and went straight to her husband’s side. She grabbed his cold, frail hands and she held them tightly, “Stay with me…” she whispered, her voice cracking for the first time. “You’re not leaving me, do you hear me?” Seconds stretched, and just like that, fifteen minutes passed, and still no doctor, only the sound of her husband fighting to breathe. She stormed out of the room, moving faster without composure, heading straight to the driveway. “Where is he?” she snapped at the driver. “Go! Find him! I don’t care how you bring him here now.” The driver barely had time to react. Then, in the distant roar of an approaching engine, the headlights pierced through the darkness, briefly illuminating Isabella where she stood waiting Before the car even came to a full stop, she was already moving. “Doctor, hurry.” The driver’s door swung open, and the doctor stepped out. He was an older man with silver hair and tired eyes. His expression shifted the moment he saw Isabella’s face. Years of experience had taught him to read what wasn’t being said “This one is serious,” he said quietly. “He’s worse than before,” she replied. “Much worse.” He grabbed his leather medical case and hurried after her. They moved quickly inside the villa. Guards stepped aside instantly as the tension spread like wildfire through the household staff; no one spoke. Inside the room, De Luca lay twisted in the sheets. Each breath came in short, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “How long has he been like this?” the doctor, already opening his case. “Fifteen… maybe twenty minutes,” the nurse replied, her voice unsteady. “It started suddenly.” The doctor didn’t respond. He moved to the bedside, checked De Luca’s pulse, pressing two fingers into his wrist. We need space,” he said firmly. “Everyone except the nurse is out.” Isabella hesitated. “Signora,” he added more gently, “please.” She stepped back, her nails digging into her palms as she moved toward the edge of the room He loosened De Luca’s collar and tilted his head back to open his airway. “Oxygen, Now.” The nurse moved immediately, fitting the mask over De Luca’s face. A faint hiss of oxygen filled the room “Sir, can you hear me?” he said, leaning close. “De Luca, stay with us.” De Luca’s eyelids fluttered, but he did not respond. He then reached into his case and pulled out a small vial and syringe. His movements were fast but careful as he drew the medication, flicking the needle to clear the air bubbles. “His heart is under severe strain,” he muttered to the nurse. “If we don’t stabilize him soon, we may lose him.” Isabella froze instantly The doctor injected the medication into De Luca’s arm. For a moment, nothing changed. The only sound was the oxygen hissing and the ragged struggle of De Luca’s breathing. He suddenly gasped, his body tensing violently. His hand twitched on the sheets, fingers gripping weakly as if reaching for something Isabella stepped forward instinctively. “De Luca…” she whispered, “I’m here, what is happening to him?” she demanded, her voice cracking. The doctor didn’t answer immediately. He injected the second dose and then placed both hands firmly on De Luca’s chest, monitoring the rise and fall, counting under his breath. De Luca’s breathing remained erratic at first, shortly, strained bursts of air escaping his lungs. Then slowly and gradually the violent tension in his chest began to ease, but not completely. The doctor exhaled quietly. “That should reduce the immediate pressure on his heart,” he said. Isabella’s legs nearly gave out. She grabbed the back of a chair to keep herself upright. “Is he going to live?” she whispered. The doctor looked at her. “For now, but this was a major cardiac episode, far worse than the previous ones; his heart is failing, Signora.” De Luca lay motionless, the oxygen mask fogging with each shallow breath. The doctor adjusted the blanket and checked his pulse again. “He cannot endure many more of these,” he continued. “He needs constant monitoring, and we must consider transferring him to a hospital with full cardiac support.” Isabella’s expression hardened instantly. “No, He stays here.” He met her gaze, then we’ll bring the hospital to him… but you must prepare yourself, the next attack may not give us time to save him.” She turned to look at her husband. Her chest tightened immediately, but her expression remained steely. The doctor stepped back, issuing instructions to the nurse before asking Isabella to leave. Reluctantly, she moved toward the door, but just as she reached it, a faint voice sounded behind her, “Isabella.” She turned instantly and rushed back to his bedside. His eyes were barely open, he tried to speak, but she gently cut him off, “Don’t. You need to rest.” He shook his head weakly, “Call them… all of them,” his voice was low. “The entire family.” A puzzled expression crossed her face. “Why?” He paused for a while; his breath steady. “There’s something I must do.” Her eyes searched his, “What is it?” For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with what little authority he had left, his gaze hardened. “Do as you’ve been told.”