Chapter 83: Chapter 83

◇ KEL ◇

When Alessio said Miles' parents were outside,  I expected both Mr. and Mrs. Falco to walk into the private room.  Miles made a face and opened the door.

Only his mother stood in the hallway, carrying a small basket of fruits. Her bodyguards were probably nearby. Dressed in all white, Mrs. Falco approached the hospital bed before  I could greet the older woman.

Eleana's mild perfume smelled like vanilla and fresh flowers. Her striking features and wavy dark brown hair reminded me from whom Miles inherited his looks.  She hugged me lightly, carefully, all the while Miles stood by the door with Alessio.  Both were talking in Italian.

"I'm so sorry." Eleana Falco pulled a face after glancing over my current condition, seeming truly worried. "How are you feeling?" Her somewhat comforting voice cracked while tears filled her beautiful deep-set eyes, her thick lashes now a bit damp.

Her somewhat droopy-lidded eyes instantly reminded me of my mom.  They both had brown eyes, thick and long dark brown hair, and were of the same height and build.  The difference was that Mommy Tilda had fairer skin because she was part-Spanish, part-Filipina.

"I'm okay, Signora." I tried to smile. I actually felt better now. Bruises, stitches and all, I still felt really lucky to be alive.

"Those bastards." Eleana sighed loudly.  "They just have no breeding."

I stayed sitting on the bed. I clutched the covers while I glanced at Miles from time to time.  "Thank you, for visiting."

"I've already called the lawyers, so don't worry about that."

Called her lawyers?  Oh no.  Definitely no. "Thank you, but...he already, um, apologized to me."  I really didn't want to start any legal actions or go to those lengths to seek justice for what I had experienced on that island.  I just didn't have the time or patience to deal with all of it—or maybe I was just scared.

"It's the least they could do, Mykaela," she said with a scoff and a quick shake of her head. "Who apologized?"

"Both of them," I muttered and looked away.  "You don't have to call your lawyers, Signora." Should I talk about that night? In detail? Did Miles tell his mother about what really happened?

What I said was true, though.  Enzo had apologized for everything; he even offered to help with the hospital bills and told me he'd get me a lawyer.  Even his brother had apologized more than twice, that same night he hid me in the basement.  It might not have been as sincere as I thought, but Leandro did say he didn't mean to hurt me.  Or at least he pretended to be sorry.

"Just now?" Mrs. Falco frowned a bit.

"Enzo came here to check on me, and apologized."

"Mykaela, please don't trust any of them."  Eleana took an apple from the basket of fruits she'd brought.  "Better if you stop talking to him. No calls. Don't reply to his texts. Block his numbers. Stay away, from now on."

Right.  She didn't trust Lorenzio as well.  I sighed shortly.  Should I just say I agreed? Enzo seemed a bit trustworthy, still.  If I gauged correctly, he even considered me a good friend now.

"Not one of them can be trusted." Mrs. Falco faintly shook her head and distractedly stared at the fruits.

Okay...  Eleana was warning me about the Tomassinis, too.  Just like Miles.  Niccolo.  Gaia.  My best friend had done some research on Enzo's family out of curiosity when Gaia visited me on my birthday.  She had found out about the Tomassinis' past brushes with the law, to say the least.  Mostly business-related, but I didn't really dwell on the stories she'd come across online.

"I know why he hangs around." Eleana folded her arms below her chest and sighed, a hint of disdain in her tone.  "He's lying if he says he only wants to be friends."

I listened and let the words sink in.  Eleana knew what Enzo came here for? What did she mean?

"It's clear as day why he's trying to get close to you."

I remained tightlipped on the bed, bracing for what the woman had to say about Lorenzio.  Did she mean Enzo had ulterior motives?  Like what?  "Did you...happen to bump into him before you came in?"  She probably saw Enzo's bleeding nose and bloodstained lips.

"Unfortunately." Eleana sighed again. "Stefano's talking to him outside right now."

Within the hospital premises?  Mr. Falco's talking to him now?  So, Enzo hadn't left the hospital yet.  Maybe I should talk to him for a moment...and apologize for what Miles did.

"I've talked to him and his brother a couple times, dear," Eleana muttered.  "He thinks you're gonna be of use to them," she said a quiet moment later. "To their business."

Use me? For what? Was she still talking about Enzo?

"They hire medical staff to tend to their goons day in day out, and help with the...other things. Let's not go into detail. I don't want to upset you further." Mrs. Falco glanced away again. "Sorry, dear. But that's all there is to it."

Oh. Okay. It all made much sense now.  I fiddled with her logic, and soon enough realized I didn't need to ask for specifics.

So, all this time, Enzo wanted to befriend me because he thought I could be of use to his family's business.

"I heard he's been trying to get on your good side. Don't fall for it, Mykaela."

"The nurse told me you're good to go," Miles cut in.  He was done calling up people on the phone and barking orders to arrange our departure.  "Use the bathroom if you have to. The doctor's coming."

"Where's your Pappa? Call him. He has the rest of the flowers." Eleana turned to her son.  She sighed when Miles shrugged coolly.

"Must be busy sucking up to that dipshit."

"Maxim! Language." Mrs. Falco raised her tone at him and crossed her arms below her chest.

I held back a smile. If  only his mother knew the kinds of things her son's mouth had been doing just moments ago...

I sat still on the hospital bed.  Now I could hardly look him in the eye after recalling what we were doing on the covers just minutes ago.

Miles glanced at me and gave me a quick, teasing grin.  Then he put on his poker face before hugging his mother lightly.   "Just want us out of here, Mamma."

◇

◇ Brichese ◇

The evening was soundless.  The cool air faintly smelled of damp grass and dewdrops.  Still ponds reflected the blue-gray skies as we drove by, the long highway bare and mostly straight.

The quiet countryside mirrored our current mood. I sat next to the driver's seat, speechless as he was with his arms draped on the steering wheel.  His attention focused on the empty road.

A heavy silence weighed on us as we traveled the dark, lifeless route to nowhere.  I simply watched him and how his furrowed brows denoted displeasure.  My gaze flickered between the pinkish wounds and marks on his knuckle and his mild frown.

For a while, I waited for him to start a conversation.  But he opted for silence. Half an hour later and I only heard a sigh as he sped through the highway, the headlights the only thing illuminating the path.

I dared to touch his hand beside his thigh.  My palm lightly covered his injured knuckle.  After some quiet seconds, he responded to my touch. His thumb stroked my finger as we drove past shrubbery and unlit woods.

"Almost there."  Miles shifted gears and gave me a small smile, his voice unusually gruff.  The vehicle slowed down.  We looked each other in the eye for a few seconds.

"I'll miss you."

Miles grinned and switched gear again. "I'll always miss you."

"Why does Leandro hate Ilya?"  I frowned and asked out of mere curiosity and intrigue.  "Just business?" I couldn't forget the bottled up rage in Leandro's eyes and voice that night while he ordered his men to find out where Ilya was.  It wasn't plain paranoia.  "Or is it more personal?"

"Both." Miles sighed and sped up. "Forget about those scums."

"Nicco didn't tell me his last name's Božić."  The same Ilya Božić who tried to have Cloe and Enzo killed in that ambush in Umbria, was the same man I met in Belgrade.  If Ricchar's men who investigated the ambush had proven it to be accurate, then I just met another dangerous psychopath who liked to hurt people—besides Leandro Tomassini.

I just couldn't forget that day.  Meeting Ilya had complicated my suspicions even more.  Peculiar how he practically had the same name as the man named "Ilija" on those birth records.  At first I thought it was pronounced almost the same as "Elijah".

But then I found out, the Russian name "Ilya" was basically just a variation of "Ilija".  I had come to a conclusion some nights ago, but I kept it to myself until my curiosity and confusion overwhelmed me.

Only when Niccolo confirmed it did I figure out how the puzzle pieces fit.  I mulled over the facts, somewhat relieved that I wasn't out of the loop anymore.  But I needed more answers.  And I had a gut feeling that Miles had all of them.  He just didn't think he had to tell me everything.

"I knew you'd figure it out," Miles sighed. He slowed down along a sharp curve.  His bodyguards were in a different car right behind us, accompanying us to the airport. "You wanna talk to him again?"

Did he mean Ilya?  "Not really."

"Sure?"

"Enzo said he got me a lawyer."

Miles pursed his lips and fell silent for a while.  He kept his gaze on the road.

"He wants to send me money again. Keeps emailing me."

Miles glanced at me and frowned for a moment.

"What do I tell him?"

"Do what you think you have to do."

"I didn't reply to him."

"Good."

"But he seems genuinely sorry." I eyed my bag, eager to check my phone again in case Enzo sent me another email.

Miles got me a new phone, too.  I could only imagine what Leandro did to my previous phone.  Last time Niccolo checked, it was no longer in San Pietro.

"Not sure what his deal is, but, stop talkin' to him.  He's just another manipulative liar," Miles sighed. "Like his batshit insane brother."

"Fine." I placed my hand on Miles' shoulder.

"Get some help. I'll pay for it."

Help?  "What d'you mean?"

"Professional counseling."

I scoffed. "No thanks."

Miles sighed and pulled a face at my immediate reply.  "You need it."

Right. Of course he wanted me to see a shrink to help me cope with the trauma.   I tried not to smile.  He was just worried about me, and he still cared a lot.  I didn't want to promise, but if he would agree to go back to rehab...

"Promise me you'll talk to someone," he murmured to break off my silence.

"Only if you promise to go back to rehab. Soon."

In reply, Miles smiled and shook his head weakly.  We drove past traffic now, the airport being minutes away.

"Please?" I kissed the top of his arm and waited for him to say something, but he only kept driving.

His silence meant yes.  The faint grin on his lips told me so.  A mutual understanding of secrecy and empathy hung in the air, assuring me that no matter what happened, everything's going to be okay.

We would figure it out.   I was leaving him again, but, no hard feelings this time.  I had to go back home for now. Go back to school. Be with family. Live normal.

I would forget about what happened, keep looking forward, study harder, get my medical degree, and strive towards my goals.  I would be too busy, but I knew he understood.

He would see me from time to time.  He would make an effort to keep things as they are.  We would stay close.

He would do better, like he said.  He would call me more often.  He wouldn't keep secrets from me anymore.  He would keep his promises, and I wouldn't have to worry about anything else again.

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