CHAPTER 263: DEPENDENCY
CHAPTER 263: DEPENDENCY
Alexandro’s jaw clenched so tight a sharp muscle twitched along his neck.
He lay on his back in the center of the massive king-sized bed, his broad arm wrapped securely around Bella, holding her flush against his ribs.
Her small hand rested flat over his chest. She was listening to the slow, steady thud of his heart beneath her cheek.
For weeks, this master suite had been their isolated sanctuary. No street politics, no gunfire, and no pressure.
Just quiet, emotional intimacy, shared whispered secrets in the dark, and a deep, unshakeable trust building slowly between them.
"I called Dr Vance this morning," Alexandro murmured softly, his long fingers gently threading through her dark curls.
"He arranged for a top-tier private rehabilitation specialist to come directly to the penthouse starting tomorrow. You won't have to leave the suite."
Bella went quiet. Her body tensed instantly against his chest.
She slowly pushed herself up on her elbows, looking down at his sharp, dark features in the dim light.
"No," Bella said, her raspy voice firm.
Alexandro frowned, his brow pulling low. "Bella, it's safer here. The streets are still volatile, and—"
"I said no, Alexandro," she cut in, leaving zero room for argument.
"I am not staying cooped up in this room like a prisoner. I need to leave this house. I need to go to the hospital clinic for the sessions."
She looked away, her gaze fixing onto the dark window pane.
Internal panic flared quietly in her chest.
Over the past month, she had become entirely reliant on him. He bathed her, he carried her, he held her when she wept, and he anchored her spirit.
Never depend on a man, her past had taught her with brutal, bloody lessons.
Dependency was weakness. Dependency made you vulnerable.
She looked down at Alexandro's fierce, dark eyes, a cold, nagging doubt creeping into her mind.
Was he doing all this out of pure guilt because she took a bullet for his mother?
Or was he secretly happy that the terrifying, untouchable Siren was now subdued, weaker, and completely trapped in his arms?
She couldn't tell. And the uncertainty scared her more than any weapon ever had.
"I need my own air, Alex," she added softly, her voice dropping into a raspy whisper. "I need to do this outside."
Alexandro stared at her for a long, silent moment. He saw the stubborn, guarded flare in her dark eyes and knew better than to push her.
"Fine," Alexandro growled softly, his hand sliding back to rest against her waist. "We go to the clinic."
The following morning, golden sunlight broke through the grey clouds, illuminating the penthouse living room.
Alexandro wheeled Bella out of the private elevator hall toward the front entrance.
Standing by the kitchen island was Rosa.
Alexandro's mother held a small, insulated tote bag packed with warm broth, fresh fruit, and a flask of hot tea.
"You are not leaving this house on an empty stomach, bella," Rosa said gently, her soft Italian accent filling the quiet space.
She walked over slowly, using her light touch to navigate the furniture.
Most times, because of how competent she was, Bella forgot that Rosa was partially blind in her right eye and had limited tunnel vision in her left the result of an old attack years ago.
One she suspects has to do with Alex’s biological father.
She stopped beside the wheelchair, setting the bag carefully in Bella's lap.
She reached out, her warm, weathered hands gently cupping Bella's face, pulling her into a soft, lingering hug.
"You are going to do wonderfully today," Rosa whispered against her hair. "One small step at a time, my girl."
Bella sat frozen for a second before slowly wrapping her arms around Rosa's waist, burying her face into the older woman's shoulder.
Unlike Alexandro and Maria, who were constantly hovering with intense worry, Rosa had given Bella quiet, respectful space over the past weeks. She never forced her presence, never offered pity, and never treated Bella like a fragile, broken thing.
Suddenly, a realization struck Bella like a quiet physical wave.
Rosa understands.
Rosa had been born with perfect sight. She had lived half her life seeing the bright colors of the world before it was violently ripped away from her, leaving her partially dark and reliant on help.
Rosa knew the exact, suffocating terror of losing an essential part of your own body overnight.
"Thank you, Mama Rosa," Bella murmured genuinely, pulling back with a faint, soft curve on her lips.
Rosa patted her cheek with fierce affection. "Go on now. Show those doctors how strong you are."
Alexandro gripped the handles of the chair, looking between his mother and the woman he loved, his heart swelling with a quiet, unyielding warmth.
"Let's go, bellissima," Alexandro said softly, rolling her out toward the private lift to face her first real battle.