Chapter 89 — Back From The Abyss

San Carlo, Italy.

MAXIMILIANO.

Another day.

Another chance.

The words echoed in my head, drowning out my other thoughts as I walked out of the lobby. The nippy breeze cut through me when I stepped out into the almost empty parking lot, as if it knew I needed some kind of distraction from all the psychological turmoil I mostly kept to myself.

I turned around to stare at the letters mounted on the front of the facility. This might be the last time I'd get a good look at this place. I didn't want to call it a prison, even though some days it definitely felt like one.

On the outside, it didn't look too big. The three-storey buildings didn't look new, either. But the whole property was roomy enough for dozens of patients. The untouched vegetation around the lot only added to its rustic appeal.

"You okay, Boss?"

I turned to find my bodyguard approaching me with a pack of nicotine gum, his arm no longer confined in a sling. "Better than I thought," I sighed. I took off my mask to give him a grin. "Roman still in Brichese?"

Sporting slicked back hair and combat boots, Alessio squared his broad shoulders in his black denim jacket. "With Mario. Your wife's busy cleaning all over your house. You told her?"

"No." I glanced at the facility one last time before I sat in the backseat of my cousin's matte black SUV. I checked my phone notifications and waited for Alessio to buckle up in the driver's seat. "Amara didn't make a fuss?"

"About what?"

I massaged my tense nape. "Adreana working remotely."

It was a good thing Mamma and my cousin let Adreana work from home. Her safety the past few months was one less thing to worry about.

"Not really." Alessio started the engine and gave it a rev.

"I need to talk to Mamma."

"Copy."

"She's in her office," I murmured, staring at the white buildings as he drove out of the parking lot.

The people I'd met inside thought I was sober and psychologically stable enough to go back to the real world. Live like a productive member of society again. But I didn't expect the doctors would sign off the approval of my release today.

I liked to think they made the right decision. But it wasn't just the guilt that weighed me down most days. Weeks of not seeing Adreana and my family had left me feeling isolated. Unwanted. Insignificant.

Then again, I chose to be here. For my sanity. For my well-being.

Haunting memories of that day lived in my head rent-free. A recurring nightmare that refused to fade.

Stefano Falco was now a dead fugitive because of me. I hunted him down, found him rotting away in that bunker, then killed him with my own gun.

It wasn't a mistake. I committed the crime on my own volition. In front of multiple witnesses. Not just Alessio.

To my advantage, the guards bent the truth a bit when Teniente Levesque and the Carabinieri questioned them once the fire died down. But as far as my freedom and punishment were concerned, my crimes didn't warrant life imprisonment. For now.

"Difesa legittima."

Ricchar's former lawyer, now my lawyer, knew and made deals with the right people while the cops were too busy with other things to give a shit about me and what I did.

Killing my own father was a choice I couldn't undo, but, I did it mostly for my mother, and for all those helpless victims who unfortunately crossed paths with a criminal of his nature.

I did it to rid this world of another sociopathic monster. If that meant my soul would spend an eternity in hell, so be it.

***

Florence, Italy.

I took a deep breath as I stood outside my mother's office, mustering up the will and courage to confront her and the round of questions waiting for me. I stared at the ridges on the hardwood, holding my breath, quieting my brain as it replayed the events that led me to this point.

When I opened the door, my mother was alone and sitting behind her desk, wearing a dark long-sleeved dress and engrossed in her work. She looked up when I entered the room. "Maxim!" Her eyes widened.

"Reporting for duty, Boss." I waved at her. I tried to match her warm, relieved smile.

"I didn't know you're..." Mamma left her seat and practically ran towards me. "They changed the date?"

"After I bribed all the doctors," I said deadpan, which made her laugh a little. "You busy, Boss?"

"You didn't even text me."

"No gadgets inside. I told you that."

She hugged me tight. "I missed you, dear. Really."

"Missed you, too."

"I didn't think they'll let you out this week."

"Surprise." I put my arm around her back and kissed her on the cheek. I missed her perfume and firm embrace. It was a comfort I took for granted when I was younger, back when I wasn't this hopeless and jaded.

Now her mere presence was a reprieve from the chaos that nearly took my life. I owed her my survival, put it simply.

"You feel better?"

"I think." I forced a chuckle and pulled away.

"Good. That's great, dear."

"Just needed to clear my head."

My mother nodded. Her watchful hazel eyes showed understanding and genuine concern, and her hand kept caressing my arm. "I know, bambino. I know." She put her slim arm around my back to give me another hug. "Sorry you've been through so much," she murmured against my shoulder.

"No. Don't apologize."

Mamma sighed and didn't let go, as if she knew her hug was all I needed to get through today.

"I should be the one to say sorry." I looked away.

"Why?"

"I killed him."

"No. Tsk. Maxim..." She pulled back, her voice wavering. "Don't say that."

"It's the truth, Mamma."

"No. Tsk. It's not that simple."

Except it was.

"You did what you did to protect yourself and Alessio."

Sure. I did it to protect Alei. But even after weeks of fighting my internal monologue, I still couldn't shake the weight of guilt.

These past few weeks, I'd been convincing myself that I killed my father to protect my mother and the rest of our family from the consequences of his actions. I still wanted to fully believe it, but the scars on my conscience ran deep.

As her gaze turned melancholic, Mamma let out a louder sigh and gave my arm a squeeze. "I know it's still quite hard for you to accept, what other people say about what happened. But, I know you were just defending yourself. I know what really happened, dear. And I'm not changing my mind about that."

Sure. It could be called an act of self-defense. An act of desperation, even. Not the whole truth, though.

"Listen." Mamma pulled a face and cleared her throat. "Your father made his choices, and, in that moment, you were just forced to make yours."

"Why do you sound like my new shrink?" I quipped. I sat on her old office couch. Although I'd been waiting to hear her reassurance face-to-face, my memories kept reminding me of the things I did.

They often reminded me that I chose to be the villain at that moment. I was the one who pulled the trigger. I consciously made the choice. Nobody told me to kill him in that bunker.

Mamma sat close to me, hugging me to her side as I pressed my fingers on the scar on my upper back.

It still ached whenever I applied enough pressure. The scar was another reminder. It forced me to deal with the fact that I almost died because of my father's mistress.

The bullets narrowly missed my heart and my head. I should be grateful that nothing worse happened, and that she was behind bars now and not me. But some days, I still wished I could strangle that bitch with my own hands. Snuff her out with one snap.

"How's Ricchar and the baby?" I glanced at my mother's close-lipped smile, digressing to distract myself from my own thoughts.

"They're fine. They're still in Berlin with Cloe's parents. Vacationing."

"Ah." Good. Ricchar and his family would be safer there for now.

"Did you check up on Adreana?" Mamma gently combed the side of my head with her slim, manicured fingers. "You called her yet?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Later."

"You should go see her, dear."

I gave her a weak nod. "Yeah. I will," I sighed. My chest still felt heavy with the fact that I kept Adreana at arm's length during my latest stint in rehab.

Not my finest moment, but, the shame told me it would be better for her safety. I only called her twice when I was inside, which I thought was best for us both, considering the gravity of the crimes I committed.

She'd heard about what happened in the estate from Mamma. Yet Adreana chose to stand by me. She even sent me sweet texts and funny emails while I was away. The moral support and her encouragement kept me going, even when it seemed like the world no longer wanted me around.

She didn't even care about the money anymore. To my relief, my relapse didn't seem to discourage her one bit. It only made me realize I didn't deserve her. Her love. Her kindness. Her selfless heart.

"Please don't forget about what I said. I just want you back here, safe and healthy. Please feel better soon. I miss you so much..." was the last message Adreana sent to my new number.

Shit. I might've fucked things up between us for good, but, after I read that text, a sense of relief and renewed hope pushed me to see things in a different light.

I couldn't wait to see her. Kiss her. Hold her in my arms and apologize for all the pain and anxiety I caused.

"She's been working from home, and, a little stressed. I mean, who wouldn't be?" Mamma held my forearm, her tone quite serious.

"Alei said she hasn't left Brichese since I left."

My mother nodded, her smile faint. "She keeps saying she doesn't want to leave 'cause you want her to stay at your house."

"Because she's safer there."

"I told her that, too," she muttered with a slight grin. "She misses you a lot, dear."

"Called her last Saturday." I cleared my throat, some remnants of that pretty emotional conversation still fresh in my mind. "I'll see her tonight." I stared at my fist, my thoughts fueled by my determination to make amends to the woman I promised to spend the rest of my life with.

"Proud of you, bambino." Mamma stroked my scarred shoulder. "Don't ever forget that."

I faked a grin. "I know, Mamma."

"You're gonna get past this. Okay?"

I hoped so.

"You're strong, dear. And we're here for you. Always. Okay?" She kissed my temple. "We'll get through this. One step at a time."