Chapter 9 - The Bride's Choice

Bianca fell before I understood what she had done.

The gunshot echoed through the old hospital.

Leo screamed.

Marello crossed the room in two steps and dragged him behind a steel cabinet.

Nico fired.

Victor disappeared through a side door.

"Go!" Bianca gasped.

I dropped beside her.

Blood spread across her shoulder.

Not center mass.

Thank God.

"Why did you do that?"

She laughed weakly.

"Terrible time to ask for character development."

I pressed my hand against the wound.

"Stay still."

"I've heard that from you before."

"Shut up."

Marello crouched beside Leo.

"Look at me."

Leo was crying.

"Papa."

"I'm here."

"She got hurt."

"I know."

"Because of me."

"No."

Marello held his face gently.

"Listen to me. Bianca made a choice. You did not cause it."

Leo shook.

Marello pulled him into his chest.

I looked at Bianca.

"You heard that?"

She smiled faintly.

"Better father than fiancé."

"Don't talk."

Nico checked the hallway.

"Victor is heading east."

Antonio stepped forward.

"I'll go."

Marello stood.

"No. Stay with Leo."

Antonio stared.

"You trust me?"

Marello looked at his father.

"Not yet."

Then he placed Leo's hand in Antonio's.

"But I trust that you know what happens if anyone touches him."

Antonio closed his fingers around Leo's small hand.

"Yes."

Marello turned to me.

"You stay."

"I—"

"Elena."

I looked at Bianca bleeding under my hands.

Then Leo.

He needed one parent here.

I nodded.

"Go."

Marello kissed Leo's forehead.

Then, unexpectedly, he kissed mine.

Brief.

Desperate.

Like a promise.

"I'll come back."

I whispered, "You better."

He left with Nico.

Antonio sat beside Leo.

The old man looked lost.

For all his power and lies, he had no idea how to comfort a frightened seven-year-old.

Leo sniffed.

"Are you my grandpa?"

Antonio blinked.

"Yes."

"Why did you pretend to be dead?"

Antonio looked at me.

I said nothing.

No rescue.

He owed the answer.

Antonio looked back at Leo.

"Because I was a coward."

I was surprised.

Leo frowned.

"Papa says bad people can tell the truth sometimes."

Antonio almost smiled.

"Your father is correct."

"Are you bad?"

The question hit harder than accusation.

Antonio thought.

"I did bad things."

"That's not what I asked."

I nearly laughed despite everything.

Antonio's eyes filled.

"I don't know what I am anymore."

Leo wiped his face.

"Mama says if you don't know, do the next good thing."

Antonio looked at me.

"She says many things."

"I have had seven years of questions."

Bianca groaned.

"Can the family therapy wait until I stop leaking?"

I checked the wound.

"Bullet passed through."

"Good?"

"Better than staying inside."

"Your bedside manner is terrible."

"You're alive."

"For now."

I tore fabric from a sterile packet and wrapped pressure around her shoulder.

"Why did you save him?"

She looked toward Leo.

"Because he offered me a marshmallow yesterday."

I stared.

"What?"

"When I was being moved through the hall. He saw the cuffs."

She laughed, then winced.

"He asked if I was sad."

Leo looked over.

"You were."

Bianca nodded.

"You gave me a marshmallow."

"You didn't eat it."

"I kept it."

She pulled a crushed white marshmallow from her pocket.

I stared at it.

Bianca's eyes filled.

"I spent years telling myself children were claims. heirs. leverage."

Her voice cracked.

"Then he gave me candy because I looked sad."

I swallowed.

"That doesn't erase what you did."

"I know."

"You helped Victor."

"I know."

"You helped watch us."

"I know."

"You were willing to marry Marello under a lie."

"I know."

She looked at me.

"I am not asking you to forgive me."

"Good."

"I just don't want the last thing I do to be what Victor planned."

I tightened the bandage.

"Then don't die."

A burst of gunfire sounded in the distance.

Leo flinched.

Antonio pulled him closer.

I grabbed the radio.

"Marello?"

Static.

"Nico?"

Nothing.

Bianca whispered, "East wing has a signal dead zone."

I looked at her.

"How do we reach it?"

"Through the old neonatal corridor."

Antonio stood.

"No."

"What?"

"You stay with Leo."

"And Marello?"

"I will go."

I stared at him.

"You are seventy-two."

"Seventy-one."

"That is not helping."

Bianca laughed weakly.

Antonio looked at me.

"I know the building."

"So does she."

"She cannot walk."

Bianca raised one finger.

"Rude but accurate."

Antonio looked at Leo.

"I promised the next good thing."

Leo frowned.

"You didn't promise."

"I am now."

He crouched.

"I need to help your father."

Leo grabbed his sleeve.

"Come back."

Antonio froze.

The same two words.

The same demand children make of adults who have taught them leaving is dangerous.

Antonio's face crumpled.

"I will try."

Leo shook his head.

"No. Promise."

Antonio looked at me.

I knew what he was feeling.

Promises were terrifying when life could expose them as lies.

But children needed them anyway.

Antonio said, "I promise."

He left.

I stayed with Leo and Bianca.

Minutes passed.

Too many.

Then the emergency lights flickered.

A monitor on the wall turned on.

Victor appeared.

He was breathing hard.

Blood ran from his forehead.

"Elena."

I looked at the camera.

"Where is Marello?"

Victor smiled.

"Still alive."

"Where?"

"Trying to save the empire he claims he doesn't want."

I shook my head.

"You still don't understand him."

"I understand Vitalis."

"No. You understand Antonio."

His expression changed.

I continued.

"You built Marello in your head from stories about the family that erased you. But he chose Leo before the empire."

"He will change his mind."

"He already gave the financial evidence to prosecutors."

Victor went still.

Bianca looked at me.

"Did he?"

"Nico said they were sending it."

Victor's face tightened.

"You are lying."

"Check."

He looked offscreen.

A few seconds later, anger transformed him.

"No."

I knew then it was true.

Marello had done it.

The files were gone.

The leverage was gone.

Victor slammed something.

"That evidence belongs to me."

"No," I said. "Truth does not belong to whoever suffered most."

His breathing became ragged.

"You think courts will fix this?"

"No."

"You think prison restores my name?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Nothing restores thirty years."

Victor stared.

I continued.

"That is what you cannot accept."

His face twisted.

"You know nothing."

"I know seven years do not come back."

My voice broke.

"I know my mother does not come back. I know Marello does not get Leo's first word, first step, first day of school. I know Leo does not get the father he asked about at night."

I wiped tears angrily.

"And I know killing you would not return any of it."

Victor looked shaken.

"For years, I wanted to find you and make you hurt."

He said nothing.

"But then Leo asked Marello for help fixing a toy."

I looked at my son.

"And suddenly revenge looked very small beside everything we still had a chance to build."

Victor's eyes lowered.

For a moment, I saw the child Antonio had erased.

Then the screen went black.

Bianca whispered, "You reached him."

"No."

"Maybe."

"No."

I had learned not to confuse hesitation with redemption.

A minute later, the radio crackled.

Marello.

"Elena."

I nearly sobbed.

"I'm here."

"Leo?"

"Safe."

"Bianca?"

"Alive."

"Antonio?"

Silence.

Marello's breathing changed.

"What?"

"He went after you."

A curse.

Then gunfire.

The connection broke.

Leo began crying again.

"I want Papa."

"I know."

"I want to go home."

"I know."

Bianca struggled to sit up.

"There's another way to east wing."

I looked at her.

"You said neonatal corridor."

"That's the obvious route. Victor will cover it."

"What's the other?"

"Old laundry chute access."

I stared.

"Can we move you?"

"Probably badly."

I looked at Leo.

No.

I could not bring him.

Then footsteps approached.

I raised Bianca's dropped gun with shaking hands.

A figure entered.

Sofia Vitali.

Marello's supposedly dead mother rolled herself into the room in her wheelchair.

I stared.

"How did you get here?"

She held up a small pistol.

"Nico's drivers underestimate old women."

Bianca groaned.

"Apparently everyone does."

Sofia looked at Leo.

"My grandson."

Leo hid behind me.

"You are the not-nice Sofia."

I closed my eyes.

Sofia almost smiled.

"Fair."

She looked at me.

"Go find Marello."

I stared.

"You expect me to leave Leo with you?"

"No."

She reached into her coat and handed me her phone.

A live video feed showed Casa Vitali security.

"The estate team is six minutes away. They will extract Leo and Bianca."

"How?"

"Ambulance tunnel."

Bianca frowned.

"You called them?"

Sofia nodded.

"Before stealing the car."

I looked at the old woman.

For once, she had done something without hiding behind strategy.

"Why?"

She looked at Leo.

"Next good thing."

I almost laughed.

Apparently my son's philosophy was spreading.

We waited until Marello's team arrived.

Leo hugged me.

"Don't go."

"I have to help Papa."

"Everyone keeps going."

The sentence broke me.

I knelt.

"I know."

"When does everyone stay?"

I pressed my forehead to his.

"After today."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

I stood.

Sofia took his hand.

Leo looked suspicious.

She said, "I will not pretend to die."

He considered.

"Okay."

I ran toward the laundry corridor.

At the east wing, I found Antonio first.

He was sitting against a wall.

Blood covered his side.

"Antonio."

He opened his eyes.

"Your timing is terrible."

"Where's Marello?"

He pointed.

"Operating theater."

"Victor?"

"Yes."

I pressed cloth against his wound.

"You promised Leo."

"I remember."

"Then stay alive."

He smiled weakly.

"Bossy."

"Family trait."

I ran.

The old operating theater doors stood open.

Inside, Marello and Victor faced each other.

Both were wounded.

Both had guns on the floor.

Victor held a knife.

Marello's hands were empty.

Victor shouted, "He stole my father from history!"

Marello answered, "Then put your father back in history."

"You think that's enough?"

"No."

"Nothing is enough!"

Marello stared at him.

"Exactly."

Victor stopped.

Marello continued.

"That is why this ends only when you decide enough is not the goal."

Victor's hand trembled.

Then he lunged.

I screamed.

Marello caught his wrist.

They crashed into an instrument table.

The knife fell.

Victor reached for a gun.

I kicked it away.

He looked at me.

For one second, everything stopped.

Then police voices thundered from the corridor.

"Hands where we can see them!"

Victor looked toward the doors.

Then at Marello.

Then at me.

He could fight.

He could die.

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I saw the choice.

Slowly, his hands rose.