Page 97 of Unfettered

He’s safe, I reassure myself. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only avid curiosity. I smile in response, putting my hand over his, needing to draw comfort from him.

“Yes, Caro. Roman is the heart of so many. He is Life, and your match in this Organization. There’s a reason he’s your stabby soulmate. And Carter’s experiences, they lend you both wisdom. He helps steer you, even as he draws from the balance you two give.”

“I like that. They’re good nicknames.” Lio radiates with pleasure, and I breathe easier, knowing at least one person doesn’t hate me.

“Better than Sandro,” Antonio grumbles.

Marcus sighs, holding up his hand. “That’s his choice on what to be called. We need to respect that.”

“I disagree,” Benjamin argues back. “By calling him Sandro, we’re just letting him believe that’s the only person we accept.”

Antonio nods stubbornly. “He’s ignoring a major part of himself. He’s Allesandro. Il Padrone. It doesn’t matter. Leader of the Martellis or member of the Council, he’s still Allesandro. He’s still a Master. And we’re still his.”

“Agreed. You can’t just…turn your back on your legacy, and on us.” Ignacio ire bubbles over as he gets up from where he’s sitting, beginning to pace. I don’t know what to do…how to heal this rift that’s growing between us.

My voice breaks, just like my soul, as I try to explain, “I’m not sure what you want from me. I tried to atone for my sins. Most of you wanted me cast out…or even dead. You left. And when I fix it, now that’s not good enough? I…I want your acceptance. I love each and every one of you, but I don’t understand.”

“And that’s enough.” Tennant’s voice rolls inside the room like thunder, and I jolt from it.

The sheer command…it’s terrifying. Worse, Javi is standing beside him. While he’s still predominantly in black, there’s small touches of color. A yellow belt, a pink jacket. It eases something in me, to see someone able to fight back. It gives me hope for myself. Even if I have lost my Boys, just like my name.

“Would you mind going to check on Cristian for me?” Javi asks me gently.

I cast a worried glance at my past, as my present looms over them, but finally give in. If Cristian needs me, that’s where I should be. It’s obvious there’s nothing for me here anymore…. Except for my Lio, who squeezes my hand one more time before I get up and walk out. No words are left in my wake, because what can I say? How much more can I beg?

I’m unwanted. As Allesandro, I was hated. As Sandro, I’m found wanting. They want Il Padrone, they want the illusion of strength, and I can’t give it to them. Because if I break… If I were to ever hurt them again… I’d rather die at my own hand than ever go down that road again.

For their sakes and mine, I’ll keep my soul locked inside a box so the toxicity can never touch them again. If that means I lose all ties, then perhaps that’s the true penance, and I’ll pay it. Whatever it takes to keep them safe…

Being injured sucks. I’m grateful Leandro had the foresight to lend me a tablet so I could watch the meeting, but the feed cut out as soon as everyone left Allesandro and his Boys alone. Worry tries to consume me, knowing that my love has no one by his side while he bares his soul to the people who mean the most to him. Because contrary to what is believed, Allesandro loves his Boys. They’re his family, his everything.

Knowing he’s facing them alone—because I know him, he wouldn’t want anyone to step in as he explained his new dynamics—it makes me want to be there with him all the more. My Allesandro is too soft-hearted for his own good, even if he doesn’t believe that.

As restlessness and boredom once again set in, the door to my room opens. I expect it to be Roman or Carter, or even Leandro again to collect his tablet, but instead, it’s Allesandro. He stumbles into the room, eyes downcast, posture slumped, as if he’s a puppet that's had his strings cut.

He collapses into the chair next to my bed and reaches for my hand. When his eyes meet mine, they’re full of pain, but before I can ask about it, he clears his throat. “How are you doing, Dolce Cuore? I’m sorry I haven’t been around much…”

“I’m okay.”

He frowns. “Are you sure? I remember when I was hurt, I was bored out of my mind, but at…at least the Boys stopped by to see me sometimes. I know Roman and Carter have been here, but I’ve been taking up so much of Tennant’s time, and⁠—”

“Hey, breathe. It’s okay. I promise. I’m…dealing. It hurts, but pain I can handle. Don’t apologize.”

“I don’t want to fail you too… I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”

I frown as I study him. He looks away from my scrutiny, but I don’t let it go. Not after knowing he was supposed to be talking to his family. “Cuore Mio? What’s wrong? What happened?”

He shakes his head, and I watch as his mouth opens but nothing comes out. Squeezing his hand as hard as I can, I try to bring his attention to me, begging without words for him to meet my gaze.

Several minutes pass where we sit like that, silently, with the despair rolling off Allesandro so great that it’s choking. I…don’t know what to do. He’s always been the strong one. Even in the midst of his own pain, he’s always been the one to hold us both up, and I selfishly took from him, letting him cut off pieces of himself so I could get comfort.

Now, he needs the same from me. He needs to know he’s not alone. That whatever happened, he can lean on me.

Swallowing, I tug on his hand, encouraging him to lean over, but even as he rests on me as much as possible in our positions, it’s not enough. So I release his hand, my heart hurting at the wounded sound he makes, but I don’t let it stop me from moving over to the other side of the bed, despite my chest hurting from all the movement.

“Come here, My Love.” I hold my hand out for him.

Allesnadro finally, finally looks up. His bright blue eyes are burning with a helplessness that takes my breath away.