You'll Always Have My Shoulder When You Cry

Breaking Point

**Alessio's POV:**

Abused
Broken
Surgery
Badly injured
Mental health
Starved

"His mother is in prison." that mouse (Geronimo) squeaked out. Those were the only words my stupid brain could process. After attempting to calm myself—wait, screw that, I'm not calm; I'm his father, I'm supposed to protect him.

My son. My son was fucking abused. I need to kill someone, and if this mouse (Geronimo) doesn't move, I swear I will punch him.

"Mio figlio," (My son) I said, clenching my fists.

Geronimo, who looked as pale as a ghost, "S-sir, we need to discuss Lucas's care plan. I-I can explain—"

My glare silenced Geronimo momentarily. "Enough talk. Just tell me who I need to eliminate to make sure this never happens again,"

My voice was low, filled with a dangerous edge. Geronimo, looking like a deer caught in headlights, stammered. He looks like an idiot.

"I-I understand your anger, but violence isn't the solution, sir."I smirked, he had no idea who I am?.

"Oh, isn't it? You're lucky you're not on my list right now. Now I understand he cannot be discharged, but he can be transferred."

After sorting the formalities with those idiots, I found out Lukas (my son) was out of surgery, and now I knew I had to call Matt. He's the family doctor, and I needed help because, although I'm trained in medical shit, it's not as far as surgeries, broken bones, or fucking mental health.

My mental health is shit, and I don't want my son to have that. Of anything, I hope Luca is nothing like me. I was going to call Matt (my brother), but I chickened out last minute because he is scary af when talking about 'health,' and How do you explain to your brother about the time when your kid got kidnapped from you? That would be one awkward call...

Luca is getting transferred (after the surgery, of course) to our hospital.

We own a hospital because the legal work when someone gets shot involves a lot of paperwork. I reached our hospital, and Luca was obviously out of surgery but was still unconscious. They informed me of his bruises and mental health. Needless to say, there is a big hole in the wall because I'm angry about the shit that Lukas has been through.

I mean, I don't even abuse my targets unless they're...; like, what the hell, why torture them and waste your time when you could just kill them? Right now, I'm not thinking about how to be a father and all that; I'm just distracting myself.

Yeah, I know it's a bad coping mechanism, but don't act like you all don't do it. At least I'm self-aware.

The doctor told me that I could see Lukas right now, and I'm waiting in his room.

As soon as I walked in, I just turned myself towards the wall, and I loved the setup. It was beautiful; the wall was so... White.

But curiosity or just pure stupidity got the best of me, and my stupid self couldn't distract my stupid brain. So, that's when I saw him

—my son.

Fucking fuck.

He looks just like me.

Hsbdjjdjd.

Same chocolate brown hair as mine. It felt like I was staring at a younger version of myself.

Lukas' right cheek bore the marks of a brutal punch, the deep purple bruise testament to the violence he endured. On the left, a bright red hue accompanied by a significant cut that traversed down to his neck. The whole area was a canvas of black, blue, purple, and red, concealed by obvious bandages, reminders of the hospital's effort to mend his wounds. He looked malnourished. No shit Sherlock

In my anger, I did something no sane person would consider but I'm not sane; I took a knife and...

Two days have passed, and Lukas remains unconscious. I find myself on a plane, transporting him to our hospital. Currently, I'm at our personal medical wing within our house, avoiding the paperwork that irritated Matt so much. His face was a mix of annoyance and amusement when I walked in, but I didn't care. Lukas' scars made me furious, and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Lukas' brain swelling has reduced, and soon they'll wake him up from his coma.

I anticipate panic when that moment arrives. I'm scared. Parents claim they feel love instantly upon seeing their child. Like Bitch, what the fuck?