Page 20 of Overdosed: Her Dark Side
I ended the call and sped down the highway.
When I entered the hospital, I made my way directly to my father’s room.
“Shane,” Elena’s soft voice greeted me as I stepped through the door. She stood by my father’s side, holding his hand. I glanced at her, realizing that during these three years that had passed, she hadn’t aged a day. Perhaps only her raven-black hair had noticeably shortened. “I should leave you two alone. I believe there are things you need to discuss.”
I nodded, thanking her as I took her place beside my father. His ice-blue eyes, framed by heavy eyelids, locked onto mine.
“How are you, old man?” I asked, noting a trace of a faint smirk curling up his lips. A rare sight.
“I’m fine,” he replied, pausing to adjust himself on the bed, and I assisted him, the sound of the door closing behind Elena rang in my ears.
I looked at my father’s face. I could sense there was something he wanted to tell me. “What is it?”
“It’s about Callan—”
“He shot you; I know,” I cut in. “We have our men digging through every corner of the state to track him down,” But my father’s gaze wandered across the room, his facial expression tensing, and I knew it wasn’t just that. My head tilted, my eyes narrowing.
“You must find him, son,” my father began, his gaze as serious as ever meeting mine. “I believe he knows something about Melanie that she’s desperately trying to hide from you, and it’s not about Anders.”
My father had always been remarkably observant, choosing silence over words and revealing information only when strategically necessary, which usually granted him an advantage over his enemies. There might’ve been a strain on our father-son relationship, but I trusted his instincts and his judgments with my life.
“Fight for her, son.” His raspy voice snapped me back from my thoughts.
“Did I hear right? Did you just tell me to fight for a woman who you wanted dead? Your enemy’s daughter?” My brow raised in sarcasm.
Karl let out a heavy breath. His gaze dropped momentarily. “I see that you genuinely love her and I saw how much you suffered after she had left.”
My muscles clenched involuntarily, but I maintained the unreadable façade he had taught me.“Why the change of heart? You’ve never approved of my relationship with her.”
My father looked at me for a moment, carefully scanning my face. As if contemplating what he wanted to say. “My entire life, I’ve had to live with the knowledge that I lost the woman I loved. I know what it feels like.”
I knew how deeply he loved my mother. Despite his cold, ruthless exterior, she was the only person who could bring out his human side. Sometimes, I wondered if she was the only person my father ever truly loved. At least so dearly. Not me, not my siblings, not even Elena could ever compete for his love with her. Her name was deeply etched in his heart forever. Their love was forever embroidered in his soul.
“Your mother died and I couldn’t have done anything to get her back. But Melanie’s alive, and now that she’s back…”
I allowed him the room to talk.
“Do anything in your power to win her back. If it works, you’ll make a happy family. If it doesn’t, at least you’ll know you’ve tried.
I sucked in my cheek. My arms involuntarily shrugged. “She’s with Anders now. Do you want me to fight against your other son?”
My father’s forehead wrinkled as he narrowed his eyes. “We both know it’s just a game. And I should be the one paying for my sins, not you, Shane.”
“What do you mean?”
His jaw tensed. “That’s not a conversation for today. Now go. You have some errands.”
I flew to Italy on my private jet that same evening. Sipping on my whiskey, I drowned in the memories of Melanie. The enticing depth of her eyes, the warmth of her smile, the melody of her voice, and the addictive trace of her scent lingered in my mind. She was like a drug. The addictive drug ran deep in my veins. Even after three years, I couldn’t get enough. I overdosed, and I couldn’t sober up. She was my fix, which I needed to breathe. And now that she was back in my life, I craved her like an addict in rehab, keening for their daily dose.
A few hours later, I touched down in Sicily, where my men stationed here were already waiting. I made my way to a black Mercedes GLM, and a convoy of identical cars followed closely. The passing scenery blurred as we drove through the night. Melanie remained vivid in my thoughts. It was ironic how a dangerous man like me, devoid of any emotions, could be rendered powerless by a fragile woman like her. She was like a rose that, despite the thorns that wounded me, still made me desire to cherish and protect her.
I stayed at one of the grand mansions we owned in the area far from the city. The night was restless, and my mind filled with images of her. The time we spent together. The time she was gone. All blurring in my mind like a tainted canvas.
The next day, I met the patriarch of the Moretti family, Carlo “Charles” Moretti. A man with a wild, wavy mane like that of a lion. Half-Italian from his father’s side, half-French from his mother’s. Hence, everyone knew him as Charles, as his mother tended to call him. Our families used to be enemies until a few years back when my father forged a pact with Cornelio, Charles’s father, that turned us into allies. At least on the surface.
Business with Charles was a hard pill to swallow. But inevitable. To maintain the power, we had to keep the alliances. Even of this kind. Charles was a real piece of shit. The bastard was insufferable. I knew that deep down, he was waiting for the right moment to strike. To claim what he believed he deserved. His ambitions were far too high, and so was his hunger for power. The power he couldn’t have because of us. The Vergoossens. The only hurdle stopping him from expanding his dominion over New York and beyond.
Days of tense negotiations turned into wild nights of parties that, for Charles, were part of the deal. Clouds of smoke, the finest of alcohol, drugs, and women. Many would consider it a paradise on earth, but not me. I felt stuck in a lavish hell that Charles had hoped would sway me. But it worked to the contrary. I might’ve been one of them. A gangster. A criminal whose sins would scare the devil itself. I might’ve belonged to the darkest circles of the underworld, but the truth was, I didn’t need any of this. I didn’t need these girls to feel like a man. I didn’t need to buy sex. I didn’t do drugs. Drugs were dangerous. I knew it far too well… for she was my drug. The only drug I had ever tried. Melanie. She was enough to show me what drugs did to a man. They fuck a man up like nothing else ever would. She was my addiction. My obsession. And I didn’t need another one.
