The Mafia Magnate

9

*Rowan Pinada POV*

My eyes felt heavy enough to hold me down. My throat dry, and my limbs tingly. As I mustered up the strength to tap my finger I heard people shuffle around me. Something equally as heavy as the weight on my eyes appeared on my wrist. "Rowan?"

I opened my eyes and quickly shielded myself from the bright light. "Where am I?"

I scanned the room and took a moment to finally process where I was, "The hospital?"

"Rowan, you're okay!" Amelie replied. She had a relieved expression on her face, but I couldn't understand why. "I was so worried you wouldn't-"

She paused once Antonio rested his hand on her back. She looked up at him and squeezed him tight, "We're gonna go get you some food, Ro. And a nurse of course."

"Why is she looking at him like that?" I asked Pietro once the two of them had left the room. Pietro sat himself next to my hospital bed. He reached out for my hand, which I jerked away. "What aren't you guys telling me?"

Silence filled the room. Pietro and I had a way of always managing to fill the air with the sound of our voices or laughter. And even when it was silent, it was never awkward or uncomfortable. Now, it was.

"Pietro." I whispered to him. "What aren't you telling me?"

He shook his head. His fingers remained interlocked and he stared down at them to avoid eye contact. His nervous demeanor made me feel guilty for attempting to force him to tell me something that wasn't something he was meant to tell. It was between his brother and my bestfriend.

"Nevermind that, tell me what happened. Why am I here?"

"After I left you in the bathroom, I didn't see you for a while. Not until you stumbled up to me saying how much you hated Carlo and he had offered you a drink. We were dancing,"

As he spoke I tried to imagine all of the events occurring in my head.

"And you had a seizure."

I sat up in my bed and placed my hand on my heart. "A seizure? Do my parents know?"

My mother wouldn't stand for this. First our argument in the pool a few days ago, then sneaking out to go to a party, and now having a seizure at said party. "Yes."

Fuck. I thought to myself as I held my hands in my palms. I peeked through the space inbetween my palms once I'd heard Pietro stand up from the chair. He sat down next to me on the bed and pulled on my wrist. I obeyed, showing my face to him. I tried my hardest to hold back the tears, scared they'd scare Pietro away.

But he motioned for me to scoot over, which I did, and sat next to me. Holding onto me tighter than I'd ever been held before I felt safe. As if he was a shield against all of the fear and pain I'd felt in that instant. A tear fell from my eyes and soon enough, I'd start to cry.

I didn't cry, I sobbed. I sobbed all the tears I'd been holding back for weeks, months maybe. I never allowed myself to cry, especially not in front of people. I held it together when I felt like I needed to. Which was always.

"It's okay to cry," he whispered.

+

Amelie had gone home. Her parents were worried about her well-being and hated hospitals. She'd apologized profusely for having to leave, which I laughed off. I knew her parents, a scary italian man and an even scarier italian woman.

'I'm sorry, but only one person is allowed to stay the night.' The nurse said to us once visiting hours had ended. Both Antonio and Pietro looked at one another and without saying a word, agreed who'd stay. And that was Pietro.