Chapter 22

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I woke to the soft murmuring of the boys and the steady beeping of the heart monitor. I had no idea how long I had been asleep as I struggled to open my puffy eyes. My hand was still holding Pappa's, nowhere near letting go. Fingers ran through my hair, massaging my skull. It was the only relief in this horrible time.

"Is it connected to Gabriel Bover?" I heard Nickola ask.

"He's still in Mexico," Garrick whispered, "And Xavier Jorden is dead. He can't be connected."

"The Boss had enemies but, none that hated him this much," Brandon adding, in disbelief.

"I can think of one," Patrick muttered, making me swallow.

I refused to think that Sebastian Drago was involved. He was underground, mine and Patrick's marriage solved that. This had to be something separate. I couldn't handle Pappa's death or my marriage if it had all been for nothing.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Nickola asked, making my cold heart warm a little.

He always seemed to worry about me.

"She's stronger than she looks," Patrick reassured him, his finger brushing my cheek.

He had so much faith in me, something that I didn't have.

"Eliza," he called, gently shaking me.

My eyes slowly opened, my body still half asleep. I moaned, at least telling him that I was listening.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked me, "the hospital will call if something changes."

I shook my head, "no, I want to stay."

He nodded, not fighting me for once.

Beep!

I jumped at the long, sustaining beep, looking between the monitor and my father.

"Pappa? Pappa!" I cried, jumping from my seat.

That's when the chaos broke out. Ten nurses and doctors burst into the room screaming out sentences that didn't make sense. Strong arms wrapped around my waist pulling me from my father's bedside when he needed me the most.

"Pappa!" I screamed, switching to his native tongue, "Pappa, don't leave me! You promised! You promised you would never leave me!"

"Shh," Patrick hushed me as we curled into a plastic chair in the waiting area.

I buried my head into Patrick warm neck, shaking in his grip.

"He promised," I cried, now in English, "He promised."

"I'm so sorry, Eliza," Patrick squeezed me, "It's the one promise he couldn't keep."

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