Chapter 7

Matteo! “Where are you?”

Dante’s voice came through the phone like a blade. As Matteo stood still in the corridor, he tightened his knuckles around his phone. For a moment, his breath seized in his chest. He felt like a child again—scared, trembling, guilty before his father  even had a name.

“Matteo?” Dante’s tone sharpened, louder this time, heavy with authority. “I asked you a question. Where are you?”

Matteo’s tongue felt like a paper in his mouth. Sweat filled his palms. He glanced toward the closed theater doors where Dominic’s life hung struggling with life and death. The machines inside kept beeping faintly, ringing in his head like a time bomb ticking every second.

“I—” Matteo swallowed hard, forcing his voice to be normal like nothing happened. “I went to see a friend, Papa. I’ll be back soon.”

Before his father could utter a word, his thumb cut the line immediately and ended the call on his father . His heart thundered so loud it filled his ears.

Unaware, Matteo had just lied to his father who already saw him panicking and entering the ambulance at the scene of Dominic’s accident.

Inside his sleek black car parked by the roadside, Dante brought down his phone slowly, his eyes narrowing. Marco, seated beside him, shifted uneasily at the sudden silence.

“Why is he lying?” Dante murmured, voice low and sharp. He never needed proof to trust his instincts. Matteo’s tone had been shaky, too careful.

“Should I—” Marco began.

“Track his phone,” Dante snapped, the command  sharp as a whip. “If he thinks he can deceive me, he’s a bigger fool than I ever imagined. I want to know the hospital he’s currently at, and I want to know now.”

Marco obeyed swiftly, his fingers hovering across his device. Within minutes, a red dot blinked on the screen. He raised his head. “Boss… he’s at St. Augustine’s Hospital.”

 “Drive.” Dante flexed his jaw immediately.

The car engines roared to life, tires kissing the ground with urgency. As they drove the city lights blurred past, Dante’s mind kept on racing. Why is he at the hospital? Who was he seeing? The sound of Matteo’s panicking voice kept ringing in his head. Something was not right in his family, and he would cut it out before it spread.

Back inside the hospital, Matteo felt his world crashing on his fragile legs. He kept pacing around for almost an hour, back and forth across the hospital hallway on the sterile tiles, each step filled with pain and uncertainty. Nurses walked past him, their heads straight , voices almost like whispers. Every time he stopped one, his voice cracked with the same question.

“How is he? Is he stable? Please, just tell me something.”

But every answer was the same—thin, rehearsed lines, spoken without warmth. “The doctors are doing their best. Please wait.”

Wait. That was all he had been doing since Dominic collapsed into his arms and then arrived at the hospital . Waiting while machines beeped continuously. Waiting while hands pressed into his wounds. Waiting while the love of his life bled out on a metal table.

His chest tightened, eyes burning. He pressed his palms into his face as he whispered to himself, voice soft. “Don’t leave me, Dom. Please. Not like this. I’ll listen, I swear I’ll listen. Just… come back.”

The memory of Dominic’s eyes shutting replayed in head constantly. Matteo tried to sit down and calm down but he kept tapping his laps anxiously, grounding himself in pain instead of fear.

Then his phone buzzed again.

Dante.

Matteo’s pulse jumped. He silenced the call instantly, slipping the phone back into his pocket as though it might explode in his hand. He couldn’t face him. Not now.

By the time Dante’s car slid into the hospital’s driveway, the night had thickened. His shoes kept clicking on the polished floor as he entered, Marco walking behind him like a shadow.

Dante moved with quiet authority, looking through the hallways carefully. His voice cut into the reception like a blade. “I’m looking for a guy who was brought in here a while ago, he’s fair with short hair. Where is he?” His name is Dominic. 

The nurse at the desk stiffened. She had seen that name come through earlier. Her eyes darted nervously. “He… he’s in surgery, sir. The doctors are working on him.”

Dante furrowed his brows, full of suspicion. Surgery. Dominic. His son. The puzzle pieces didn’t fit neatly yet, but his gut twisted with certainty: Why would Matteo be so involved in this.

He turned his head toward Marco. “Stay sharp. He’s here somewhere.”

Matteo hadn’t noticed them arrive. He was still pacing, sitting down and standing up, tapping his laps, running his hand through his hair until it stuck out in messy tufts. His nerves were not being friendly at all, his shirt clinging with sweat. Every second the theater doors stayed closed dragged him closer to madness.

He turned toward the nurse’s station to ask again, to beg her for at least a satisfying response this time, when his gaze landed on someone in the distance.

A figure.

Tall. Imposing. Unmistakable.

His father.

Their eyes locked across the hallway immediately.

For Matteo, it was like the ground cracked open so he could fall inside at that moment. His blood froze. His chest tightened until breath was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Dante’s eyes, sharp and unforgiving, pierced him clean through.

Matteo staggered backward instinctively, then took on his heel and rushed down the corridor.

“Matteo!” Dante’s voice thundered after him, dragging attention, making heads turn.

But Matteo didn’t stop. His legs didn’t ever stop, he walked past nurses, past strangers, out through the automatic glass doors into the night air. His lungs burned but he kept running, fueled by fear and the need to stay out of his father’s rage.

Dante followed him, but Matteo had the advantage of desperation. By the time Dante burst through the doors, Matteo was already gone, covered by the shadows of the parking lot.

“Damn it!” Dante snapped, he fists clenching at his sides. His fury was just obvious like a lava beneath his composed mask. Marco caught up with him too, panting slightly, but Dante’s eyes never left the darkness Matteo had disappeared into.

“He’s hiding something,” Dante said flatly. “And I’ll find out what.”

Hours later, Matteo sat alone in a well furnished private apartment on the other side of the city—their secret haven, where he was supposed to meet the love of his life earlier today. The curtains were drawn, the lights dim to his taste. He sat on the couch with his hands covering his face, thinking about the night, trembling from the weight of that whole day.

The silence was unbearable. Without Dominic’s steady presence, the room felt like a coffin. 

He kept remembering how Dominic used hold him so tight, the way he grabbed his dick and how could fold his hands at his back and fuck him so hard.

Playing “(Ellie Goulding’s Love me like you do from Fifty Shades of Grey)” in his private apartment. 

After one hour of vibing to his music, he pulled out his phone with trembling fingers, staring at Dominic’s contact name staring back at him. He hesitated, his thumb still hovering over the screen. 

He remembered  his father’s unreadable stare. It kept messing with his head. Being unaware of Dominic’s survival crushed him the more. His emotions twisted together until they spilled out in reckless desperation.

He hit the call button.

Immediately the line connected, his voice cracked, raw and needy. “I want you now.” His throat was still cracking as he took a deep breath, his words coming faster, full of hunger and lust at the same time. “I need you to fuck the hell out of me tonight. Meet me at our usual spot. Hey… just be fucking here as soon as possible.”

His voice broke on the last word. He ended the call, staring at the phone in his hand as though it could bring Dominic back to him.

Outside, the night spread endlessly, heavy with secrets.

And somewhere in the hospital, Dominic’s machines kept beeping, a soft rhythm against the silence of death.