Page 71 of Captive Bride

“They’re so cute. Can’t believe they’re your children. Uh, sorry, lad,” Liam said.

I elbowed him. He had gotten over the Malachy reveal surprisingly quickly. I supposed Kieran was right, and he really did already know. These dinners, with Adriana’s family, were the first time in a long time we had done something so…domestic.

So what if Silvio and I discussed business after dinner sometimes? That was to be expected.

Adriana laughed. “I think they look a little like you, actually. Catherine does, anyway.”

I forced a smile at Liam's comment, even as I felt a twinge in my chest. Adriana's eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. The twins were a living reminder of our complicated history, of choices made and paths diverged.

“Let’s just hope Matteo doesn’t start looking like his uncle Kieran,” Liam said.

“Hey, fuck you,” Kieran said, then caught himself. “Apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Orsini.”

Silvio chuckled, waving off Kieran's apology. "No need for formalities, boy. We're all family here."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity, feeling a reluctant admiration for how he handled the shadows of our world with such deceptive lightness. It was an art form, really, his way of laughing in the face of darkness.

"Careful, your Irish is showing. Try not to scare them," I teased, earning a playful scoff from him. The laughter that followed was a brief respite, a collective breath we all seemed to need.

Alessia, always poised, turned her attention to Adriana. "Darling, how are the wedding preparations coming along?" she asked, her voice smooth as the wine she sipped.

Adriana's lips curled into a rare smile. "It's all falling into place. The venue, the dress... It's like a well-oiled machine."

"Sounds boring," Kieran interjected, his tone deadpan but eyes dancing with mischief. "I've already penned my best man speech, by the way. It's a real tear-jerker."

"Is it now?" Carmen raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "I'll need to screen that before you make everyone cry for all the wrong reasons."

“Maybe it’ll be incredibly moving, Carm, and you’ll eat your words.”

I still marveled at the fact that those two had become friends. That, I had never expected.

“To be honest, I’m surprised you even know how to write,” Liam said.

“Don’t help her!” Kieran protested.

Laughter erupted around the table, genuine and warm, filling the room like sunlight breaking through clouds. For that fleeting moment, the weight of our existence lifted, and we were just a family sharing a meal

Laughter still hung in the air when Silvio's chuckle turned into a sudden cough. I leaned forward, my instincts kicking in as I eyed him cautiously. Maybe it was the dryness of the wine or a misplaced crumb.

"Silvio?" I called out, ready to pat his back. But…he wasn't choking. His hand shot to his chest, face contorting in pain as he slumped back in his chair. And then he fell to the floor.

By the time his body thudded on the floor, he was no longer breathing.

"Shit," I whispered under my breath. The room erupted into chaos; faces blanched, chairs scraped back from the table, and cries of alarm mingled with the clinking of fine china.

"Move!" I barked, forgetting for a moment about my crutches leaning against the wall. I limped quickly toward Silvio, my heart hammering in my chest but my mind clear. Gritting my teeth against the pain shooting up from my leg, I lowered myself to the floor by Silvio's side. This wasn't about me—this was life or death.

"Kieran, call 911!" I yelled. I thought he answered, but his voice sounded distant as I focused on Silvio's pale face.

"Orsini, stay with me," I urged, placing my hands on his sternum. I started compressions, counting each push against the eerie silence that now filled the gaps between our collective breaths. My arms worked mechanically, driven by adrenaline and the fierce determination not to let this man—this kingpin who had become like family—slip away.

"Come on, come on, Silvio," I muttered through clenched teeth, refusing to acknowledge the fear gnawing at my insides. Each compression was a silent promise to fight for him, to push through my own vulnerability for the sake of his life.

My hands moved rhythmically against Silvio's chest, each compression a desperate bid for his life as the chaos of the room closed in around us. The atmosphere was charged with panic, the air filled with the clatter of shifting furniture and the sharp tang of fear.

I could hear the dispatcher's distant voice, tinny and disconnected, as Kieran relayed our emergency with an urgent calm that really spoke to how used he was to chaos. So I guessed we had that going for us. His presence was a rallying point, a bastion of control in the eye of an emotional hurricane sweeping through the opulent dining room.

A few feet away, Carmen's vibrant red hair was a flame caught in a gust of sorrow. She wrapped her arms tightly around Alessia and Adriana, their bodies huddled together like saplings against a gale. Carmen’s usual fiery demeanor was doused by dread, her features twisted in a silent plea for mercy.

---