The Mafia Sister

Chapter 42

Leonardo's POV:

Six days...

It had been six excruciating days since Antonio lapsed into a coma and this time, it was not medically induced.

 Victor had not moved from Antonio's side since he fell into a coma six days ago gripping Antonio's hand in a desperate attempt to hold on to him. It was as if he was punishing himself for what had happened, blaming himself for not being there to protect his brother. He sat there, consumed with guilt, not moving or speaking, just staring at his friend. People often assumed that I was Victor's closest brother, but Antonio had been there for him since childhood. As I watched Victor sit there day after day, his eyes fixed on 's motionless body, I couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness and helplessness wash over me. I want to comfort him, to tell him that everything will be okay, but the words won't come.

 Daniel was even more unbending; on a mission to find whoever was responsible and bring them to justice. He was rarely seen, likely out searching for the culprits.  it was hard to see him so consumed by his anger. He spent his days and nights for any clues that might lead him to the people responsible, his frustration and anger fueling his every move. It was clear to all of us that he was on the brink of losing himself to his own rage. He had become a man possessed, barely sleeping or eating as he searched for any clue that might lead him to the culprits. Even though I knew how dangerous and irrational his actions had become, I couldn't blame him for his rage.

Grandpa and uncles were doing their best to comfort their wives, but Uncle Leander was on the verge of collapse. Uncle Leander, who had always been the strongest of the family, had crumbled under the weight of his grief. He refused to leave Antonio's side, his eyes never leaving his son's face. He would whisper words of love and encouragement, hoping against hope that Tony would hear him and wake up, he would often break down in tears, unable to bear the thought of losing his son.No pleading could convince him to leave Tony's side and rest. I can see the pain etched on his face, and it's clear he won't leave Antonio's side until he wakes up. But what will happen if he doesn't wake up?

The younger members of the family were struggling to come to terms with the gravity of the situation. They had grown up with Antonio, and the thought of him not being there was too much to bear. Isabella remained stoic, not shedding a tear, but her care for all of us was evident. Even she was affected by Antonio's condition. 

Niccolo and Dante were fighting their own battles in their own ways. Dante spent his days at the hospital, working tirelessly to ensure that Tony received the best care possible. , on the other hand, Niccolo was using his connections to try and track down the people responsible for what had happened. The doctors and Dante had given us hope, saying that Antonio's health was improving, and he would wake up in a few days. We all prayed for him to pull through, to come back to us.

I sat there, feeling powerless, watching as my family fell apart before my eyes. was like a brother to me, and the thought of losing him was almost too much to bear. Maybe I should have been there to protect him, to prevent this from happening. But it's too late for that now. He will be fine. He has to.

Suddenly, I heard Daniel's voice behind me. 'He will be fine,' he said reassuringly. 'He will wake up and then chew our ears off not before giving us a piece of his mind.' I turned around and saw my brother standing there.' I turned around and saw my brother standing there. I stood up and hugged him, and he smiled slightly before hugging me back. It was good to have him here with us. Daniel was always the one who could comfort us even in the darkest of times.

"Do you know who did it?" I asked Daniel, my voice barely above a whisper as Isabella was sitting with Grandpa and the twins.

Daniel hummed thoughtfully before taking me outside of the room. We walked down the hallway, our footsteps echoing in the silence. Finally, he turned to face me, his eyes blazing with fury. "Russians," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "They were the ones who shot Tony."