Page 39 of Victorious: Part 2
“Watching you find love with Ingrid has been one of the greatest joys of my life. She loves you completely, and little Louis is lucky to have you as his father. You’re going to be an amazing dad…” I pause, my emotions starting to hit me as I glance over at Ingrid holding our one-year-old. She beams at me, giving me the strength I need to keep going. “… so much better than our father ever was. But Romeo, I need you to promise me something. If the club is in trouble, I need you to fight. I need you to protect your family. Ingrid, Louis, and all those brothers who will probably be reading this with you.”
I glance up, my eyes meeting Hurricane’s. He simply nods at me, knowing where my head is going. Right back to LA Defiance, so I continue, “Don’t let my illness be the reason you hold back from doing what needs to be done. I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid of you living with regret. Fight for what matters. Fight for the family you’ve chosen. You have my permission to be thewarrior I know you are.”
I take a deep breath just to steady myself, crane my neck to the side, and then keep reading. “You already know I left my business to you to do with as you see fit. What you don’t know is that I also started a high-interest savings account for Louis.” I stop talking and turn to face my sister, her eyes glistening with fresh tears as I stare at her.
“Bells,” Ingrid whispers, her hand reaching out to take my sister’s.
Swallowing hard as I fight back the urge to break into a river of fucking emotion, I shift my gaze to Ingrid and continue, clearing my throat, “I put fifty thousand dollars to start, with a compounded interest rate of ten percent per year. It’s locked until Louis turns twenty-one. By then, it’ll be worth more than six times that. He’ll have a future…” My eyes lock with Ingrid’s watering ones again as I say this next part, written by my dying sister. “Because he deserves one.”
My bottom lip quivers, a single tear sliding down my cheek as I quickly swipe it away. “I love you, little brother. Take care of our family. Always, Bella.”
I sniff back, clearing my throat, and by the time I finish reading, Ingrid and Novah are complete messes. Even Hurricane clears the emotion from his throat, trying to be subtle about it.
I look up at Bella, whose eyes are bright with tears but also somehow peaceful. Moving beside her, I hold her limp hand and nod at her. “I promise,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. “I promise I’ll fight for them. For all of them. And thank you. Thank you so fucking much, Bells.”
Her eyes flutter closed briefly, and when they open again, I see relief.
Like maybe she knows we’re going to be okay.
And with that, she closes her eyes to rest.
The NOLA family stays through the evening, taking turnssitting with Bella, sharing stories, and making sure she knows she’s surrounded by people who love her. We laugh when we can, reminisce when we need to, and hold onto the little moments like they’re lifelines. We speak softly because louder words might pull her farther from us. Every second, every breath she takes, feels as if it could be the last.
So, we cherish them.
Cling to them.
Drown in them.
But as night falls, I notice the signs. Bella’s breathing becomes more irregular. The machine is working harder. The nurses are checking on her more frequently. Her body is growing stiller, her spirit, I swear, flickers like a candle at the edge of the wind.
Around three in the morning, Dr. Patterson, Bella’s physician, gently pulls me aside. “It won’t be long now,” he says quietly. “Her body’s shutting down. The machine is the only thing keeping her breathing, and even that won’t help much longer.”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak.
The words drop like stones into my stomach. My entire body clenches, trying to hold onto something I’ve already begun to lose.
As I turn to rejoin the others, the elevator doors down the hallway slide open, and someone I wasn’t expecting to see steps out.
Dr. Lachlan Rhodes.
Calm, composed, but there’s something in his expression that isn’t just clinical.It’s personal.His eyes meet mine across the corridor, and there’s no need for words.
He steps up to me, placing out his hand for me to shake. “Lock, what are you doing here this time of morning? This isn’t even your section of the hospital, right?”
“Alpha sent me,” he says quietly once he reaches me. “He knew you’d need someone here. Said if he couldn’t be by yourside himself, he wanted someone he trusted to be.”
My throat tightens so fast I have to swallow twice just to speak. “Thank you, I appreciate you being here,” I manage, the two words barely more than air.
Lachlan nods once. He understands the weight behind them, especially because he has just been through this with Livvy, and he walks with me back into Bella’s room, staying silent and solid, like a wall at my back. And somehow, that matters more than I ever thought it would.
I’m beyond glad that Ingrid has her support here, and I knew that my club couldn’t be here because of the shit with Javier, but this one small gesture from Alpha—sending Lock to make sure I have someone here for me—means more than Alpha will ever truly understand.
When I return to the room, everyone senses my somber mood. Ingrid immediately moves to my side, and Hurricane stands, his usual commanding presence somehow both comforting and protective.
“How long?” Hurricane asks quietly.
Shaking my head, I feel like I might shatter from the inside out. “Not long,” I somehow manage.
