---

"So basically, he's now relying on a crutch to move, and I don't think he can walk long distances," I said, leaning back in the chair, feeling the weight of everything settle on my shoulders. The walls of Matteo's clinic, in the hospital usually a place where I found some kind of calmness, now felt too frustrating.

Matteo sat across from me, eyes focused but calm, "Did you check his leg thoroughly? From what you've told me, I think the core of the issue could be in his knee, not the entire leg."

I shook my head, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I haven't had the chance to check it up close yet. I'm planning to bring him into my clinic tomorrow. The thing is..." I paused, running my hands over my face, the exhaustion creeping into my voice. "His body is covered in bruises, Matteo. It's like every time I look, there's something else. I don't even know where to start-his leg or the bruises. Everything feels urgent."

Matteo leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on the desk. He already knew Luca's story, how he'd been taken, the abuse he'd suffered, the physical and emotional damage it had caused. His sympathetic expression didn't help ease the tight knot of frustration in my chest.

"I get it," Matteo said after a moment. "You've got a lot on your plate with him. But you can't tackle it all at once, Mass. He's already been through more than most adults can handle, so start where it's most critical." He paused, considering. "Maybe begin with the bruises, get those under control, and then focus on his leg. You know better than anyone that a delayed treatment for his leg isn't going to make a huge difference if we're talking about long-term damage."

I nodded slowly, knowing he was right, but that didn't make it any easier to hear. "It's just... when I see him struggling, every instinct in me wants to fix everything at once. I feel like I'm constantly falling short."

Matteo sighed, crossing his arms and leaning forward on the desk. "That's natural. He's your brother, not just a patient. But remember, you have time. His bruises need to heal, and you need to be there to help him through the emotional part too, not just the physical." He raised an eyebrow. "How's his speech? You said he struggles to talk. Has he seen a speech therapist yet?"

I frowned, shaking my head. "No, not yet. I've been thinking about it, but... he barely speaks, It's more than just the physical damage. It's like the trauma silenced him. I know he wants to say more, but it's as if the words get stuck, and he can't get them out. His stuttering gets worse when he's stressed."

Matteo tapped his fingers on the desk again, thinking. "You should look into speech therapy, Massimo. If his condition is partly psychological, a good therapist could help him work through some of that trauma. If his stuttering gets worse with stress, it's not just a speech issue-it's emotional, and that needs just as much attention."

"Yeah," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "I guess I've been putting that off, hoping he'd get better on his own."

Matteo gave me a knowing look. "You can't do everything yourself, Massimo. I know you're used to being the one who fixes things, but you've got to get him the right help, even if it means handing him over to someone else for a while. Talktoyor dad, Leonardo all of yourbrothers, Mass you can'tjust take this all on your own"

The weight of his words settled on me. He was right, and I knew it. I'd been trying to hold onto the idea that I could fix everything for Luca, but this wasn't a problem that could be solved with a scalpel or a few weeks of therapy.

This was deeper. More complicated.

"Maybe I'll talk to Papa about getting him into therapy," I said, still thinking it through. "But it's going to be hard for Luca to trust someone new. He barely trusts us as it is."

Matteo nodded, leaning back again. "It's not going to be easy, but you don't have to rush it. Just take it one step at a time. Start with his physical health-his bruises, his leg. Then you can move on to his speech when the time is right."

I sighed, leaning back in the chair and closing my eyes for a moment. "Yeah, you're right. I just hate that this is his life now. He's seven, Matteo. He should be playing outside, running around with other kids, not worrying about walking with crutches or stuttering every time he tries to speak."

Matteo's voice softened. "I know. It's tough to see someone you love going through this. But I am sure Luca is strong, and he's got you. He's already shown more resilience than most kids his age. You're doing everything you can, Massimo."

The words were meant to comfort, but they didn't take away the sinking feeling in my chest. I couldn't shake the image of Luca struggling to keep up with his brothers, always a step behind, always needing help. I hated it. Hated that he had to carry that weight.

Before I could respond, a soft knock interrupted us. A nurse stepped into the doorway, looking slightly flustered but trying to remain professional.

"Dr. Russo," she said, her voice gentle but hurried. "The OR is ready, and they're prepping for surgery. They need you now."

Surgery. Right. I'd almost forgotten. I straightened up, the familiar switch in my mind flipping from worried brother to surgeon. "I'll be there in a minute."

The nurse nodded and disappeared as quickly as she had come. I looked back at Matteo, standing up and grabbing my phone and things. "Thanks for this, Matteo. I needed to talk it through."

Matteo stood as well, walking around the desk to give me a firm pat on the back. "Anytime, Mass. Don't hesitate to bring him by if you need a second opinion."

"I will," I said, though my mind was already shifting to the surgery ahead.

Matteo smiled, nodding.

With a final nod, I turned and walked out of the clinic, heading toward the OR. As I scrubbed in, my thoughts kept drifting back to Luca-his bruised arms, his quiet voice, his tired eyes.

Surgery was something I could control. Luca's future? That was a battle I wasn't sure I knew how to fight.



Before the Mall

---

“I don’t trust the Russians,” I muttered, breaking the silence in the car as Papa and I left the base. The engine hummed beneath us as we drove, the city skyline coming into view through the tinted windows. But my mind wasn’t on the mall, or the afternoon we had planned with Luca. It was on the deal we were trying to make, the one that could change everything.

Papa’s eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, but I saw the flicker of a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. “And when did you ever trust them, Leo?” he asked, his voice low, but with that teasing edge he always carried. “I don’t remember you being particularly fond of them.”

I leaned back against the leather seat, staring out the window but not really seeing anything. “That’s exactly the point, Papa. I’ve never trusted them. And now we’re supposed to let them help us with something important as Luca ?”

He sighed deeply, one hand still gripping the steering wheel while the other tapped lightly against it. He always did that when he was thinking, when he was trying to find the right words. “I know, Leo,” he finally said, his voice quieter this time, more serious. “I know you don’t trust them. But believe me, I wouldn’t be involving them if I had any other choice.”

I turned to him, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “There has to be another way. You’re telling me we’re relying on the people who couldn’t even find her? The Russians couldn’t track down Mama when she disappeared with Luca. They had years to find her, and they failed. Why would we trust them now?”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and I saw his jaw clench before he responded. “Because, Leonardo, they’re all we’ve got right now. I don’t like it any more than you do. The Russians were tied to your mother’s side of the family. If anyone should have known where she was when she ran off with Luca, it was them. But they didn’t, or at least they didn’t tell us.” He paused, taking a breath as though trying to steady himself. “But now they can help. They’re the only ones who can get close to the circles she and her new husband ran in.”

I clenched my fists, my mind flashing back to the years we spent searching for Luca,

tracking every lead, every whisper, every rumor.

The idea of relying on the Russians to protect him now, after all that had happened, made my blood boil.

“I don’t trust them with Luca’s life,” I said bluntly, my voice harsher than I intended. “I don’t want them anywhere near him. If something goes wrong—if they betray us or give us bad intel—Luca could end up getting hurt. We can't let that happen again.”

Papa’s gaze flicked toward me, his expression softening just a little. “You think I don’t know that?” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “You think I don’t feel the same way? He’s my son, Leo. I would do anything to keep him safe. But we’re out of options. The Russians have contacts we don’t. We need them if we’re going to find your mother and the man she married.”

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the anger that kept rising. I hated this feeling—the helplessness, the fear that no matter what we did, Luca would never truly be safe. “Do you think they’ll lead us to her? After all this time?” I asked, my voice quieter now, less certain.

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed on the road, his fingers still tapping that steady rhythm against the steering wheel. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and there was something in his voice that made me pause. A weariness. A tiredness I hadn’t heard before. “I don’t know if they’ll find her. But they’re our best shot. And if they can find her, they can find him—her husband atleaset . And we’ll make sure Luca is never hurt again.”

I looked down at my hands, trying to process his words. I hated this plan. I hated that we were putting any trust in the Russians. But I knew Papa wouldn’t do this unless he really believed it was our only chance.

Even though I am half Russian from my mother, I still hated that. I wish that I was just Italian, I never trusted my Russian family.

“I just don’t want to see Luca hurt again,” I muttered, after a while, more to myself than to him. “He’s been through enough. He deserves to be safe.”

Papa’s hand reached over, resting briefly on my shoulder. “I know, Leonardo,” he said quietly. “We’re all doing what we can. But sometimes, we have to take risks.”

I didn’t respond. There wasn’t much else to say. The anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it was mixed with a helplessness I hated to admit. I could protect Luca from a lot of things, but not this—not the mess our mother had dragged him into.

I took out my phone and heard papa talking to Ricardo telling him that we are near to the mall.

---------

The car fell into a heavy silence as we approached the mall. The bright, flashy lights of the storefronts seemed out of place compared to the dark cloud hanging over us.

Papa cleared his throat, trying to shift the mood. “Listen, let’s not bring this up around Luca, or to your brother, they don't need to hear about this. Today’s about luca, okay?”

I nodded, forcing myself to push the conversation to the back of my mind. “Yeah. Today’s for Luca.”

^______________________^

Hey guysssss~~~

I feel like I should’ve put this two povs in the last chapter but anyway since it has been short time since i last updated i said why don’t i make a small chapter i honestly liked it and i felt like i should’ve make one since i am free anyway hope you liked it and i promise next chapter will be better

Anyway tell me what you think and if you have any idead for the next chapter lmk☆☆

And also is anyone here a star wars fan? Especially the mandalorian series cause i have read that there won't be season 4 and i was really gonna cry 🫂🫂