Sins of a Black Diamond Bride

CHAPTER 3

Mom always said life is fragile. So fragile that you need to enjoy every single moment with the people you love, because one blink and they’re gone. You find yourself standing alone, forced to embrace the life you’ve always tried to run away from.

Dad was different. My fearless father, the most respected Mafia lord in Chicago, head of the House of Rain. He promised he would always be here with me through every storm. He was untouchable. We were untouchable. People feared him, but they also loved him because he stood for the vulnerable. He touched lives. He did good. He was not like the cold men on the Mafia council.

But somehow everything changed. Everything became frightening. Still, he remained the best father any girl could ever ask for.

The words he spoke to me in my dream kept echoing in my head: “Child, you have to get used to the storm and learn to live on your own now.”

Tears poured silently from my eyes as I lay in the hospital bed. My chest felt tight. The white ceiling blurred above me.

The door clicked open. A doctor and two nurses rushed in. The doctor moved fast to my side and checked the monitors. One nurse shone a light into my eyes. The other wrapped a band around my arm for blood pressure.

“Miss Rain, can you tell me your full name?” the doctor asked.

“Veda… Veda Rain,” I whispered. My throat felt raw.

“Good. What year is it?”

I answered what I could. My voice came out weak and cracked. When they finished checking my heartbeat and reflexes, I asked, “How long have I been here?”

The doctor paused. His face stayed serious. “Four weeks. You collapsed at the airport and were rushed here. Before we could stabilize you, you slipped into a coma. It’s a miracle you woke up.”

I muttered softly, “So it’s true…”

Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. Four weeks of my life had vanished. Four weeks of not being able to say goodbye. My hands gripped the sheets tight. The pain of waking up to this reality was worse than the coma itself.

The doctor continued gently, “Nanny Maureen has been by your side almost every day. She only stepped out a few minutes ago. A young man named Anthony has also been visiting. I’ll call them now with the good news. You’re very lucky, Miss Rain. In cases like yours, many patients never find their way back.”

Something inside me tightened hard. I pushed myself up from the bed. The nurses moved forward to stop me.

“Miss Rain, please lie down. You need rest.”

“Leave me alone,” I said quietly.

The nurses looked at the doctor. He nodded, and they stepped back.

I sat up, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and pulled the IV tube from my hand. My legs felt weak when I tried to stand. They shook under me.

The doctor reached out to support me. “You can’t do this yet. You need to regain your strength.”

I was not listening. I stood on shaky legs, adjusted the hospital gown, and moved toward the door.

The doctor tried again. I looked him straight in the eyes. My voice came out cold and broken. “Don’t touch me. You said I’ve been sleeping for four weeks… What other rest is there? I went to sleep at twenty-one and woke up at twenty-two. That’s enough rest, don’t you think?” My voice cracked. “You called it a miracle that I found my way back. I never asked for any miracle. I would have preferred to die with them.”

I kept moving backward into the hallway, eyes fixed on them.

My legs collided with something that had wheels.

I fell backward, straight onto the legs of a patient in a wheelchair.

The doctor and nurses rushed out, shouting.

The nurse behind the man gasped.

My hair fell across my face. I slowly turned my head.

A handsome man with shoulder-length black hair framing his sharp face looked back at me. Broad shoulders. Tattoos visible on his wrists and forearms. His dark eyes locked on mine, intense and heavy.

He had caught me with one strong arm, holding me so I did not hit the floor completely.

For a moment the hallway felt far away. My breath stayed caught. His eyes did not leave mine. He stared back with an unreadable expression, as if he could understand my pain.

Then I noticed all the eyes on us—patients, nurses, visitors staring. Heat burned up my neck and into my face.

I pushed myself up fast and stumbled forward, desperate to get away. The hospital gown fluttered behind me as I moved down the hallway on weak legs.

Behind me, the nurse asked, “Mr. Dario, are you alright?”

His voice came calm and low. “I am. But I don’t think she is.”

I burst through the hospital doors into the outside world.

Warm sun hit my face, bright and blinding. Fresh air rushed into my lungs, carrying the scent of grass and flowers. For one second my shoulders eased, but the pain only grew sharper.

I spotted a quiet garden with shady trees. I ran to it, dropped onto the soft grass, and lay face-up with my arms spread wide. The blades tickled my neck.

Tears came without warning.

So this was what my life had become.

All alone.

I woke up on my birthday, March 16th. I turned twenty-two just a few hours ago. Mom promised she would be here with me. Dad too. We made plans. And just like that, they were all gone with the wind.

My chest heaved. I turned onto my side, pulled my knees up, and clutched my stomach hard. A scream tore out of me. My whole body shook with each sob.

Then I felt a presence behind me.

A calm, quiet voice spoke softly.

“Life is fragile. So fragile that you need to enjoy every single moment with the people you love, because one blink and they’re gone. You find yourself standing alone, forced to embrace the life you’ve always tried to run away from.”

I froze. My breath stopped.

Those were Mom’s exact words.

“Mom?” I whispered. Hope jumped hard in my chest. Maybe this was all still a nightmare.

“Mom!” I screamed. I scrambled to my feet and rushed toward the voice, arms already reaching out.

But when I turned, I stopped sudden.

It was not Mom.

It was the same man from the hallway. The man in the wheelchair. He sat quietly under the tree, watching me with those dark, steady eyes.

I stood there trembling. Tears still streamed down my face. My hands stayed clenched at my sides.