31

31
Alaric’s POV
When I agreed to let Emilia check on her brother, I didn’t expect to be dragged along. But somehow, I found myself standing outside the sterile doors of Matteo’s hospital room, the hum of fluorescent lights above and the lingering smell of antiseptics filling the air. Emilia was silent beside me, her shoulders tense. We hadn’t exchanged more than necessary words over the past week, and I intended to maintain that by all means necessary.
Emilia stepped forward, hand already on the door, but she hesitated, glancing back at me. I could tell she was hesitating, probably rethinking the whole thing. I didn’t know why exactly she had asked me to come but now she looked like it was a bad idea. I kept my expression flat. I wasn’t here to comfort anyone. I watched her shoulders stiffen as she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Matteo looked worse than I’d expected-pale, worn down. That was a surprise. I thought he was already getting better. His dark eyes flickered to the door, softening only briefly when he saw Emilia. But the moment he registered my presence, his face hardened, his gaze narrowing in clear disdain. I could practically feel his anger toward me; he wore it like a suit of armor. Not that I cared.
“Who is this?” He asked even though I had a feeling he already knew who I was.
“Alaric,” Emilia answered slowly…hesitantly.
“Why the fuck is he here?” He spat. “Why are you here? Why are you around my sister?”
“Matteo,” Emilia chided softly, taking a seat beside his bed. She tried to keep her tone gentle, trying to avoid any fight that might break out.
I kept my position near the door, leaning back against the wall with my arms crossed. I had no intention of responding to his childish hostility, and it wasn’t my first time dealing with family members who resented me. People like Matteo, those who felt I had taken something from them, were almost predictable in their anger. They didn’t realize that their hostility was nothing more than a pebble in my shoe-irritating but forgettable.
“Why is he even here?” Matteo turned to Emilia, his voice harsh. “I thought… I thought you’d be smart enough to get away from people like him.”
Emilia sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Matteo, we’ve been over this. I don’t have many choices right now, and he’s been… he’s helped.”
Her choice of words wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, and I noted the small wince on her face as she tried to explain herself without making excuses. She was smart, careful with her words, even though she didn’t owe him-or me-an explanation.
“Helped?” Matteo spat the word, his voice laced with bitterness. “You think any of this comes for free, Emilia? Guys like him don’t ‘help’ without wanting something in return.”
I felt the corners of my mouth twitch, but I bit back my retort, reminding myself that he was just a protective brother doing what he thought was right.
Emilia glanced over at me, perhaps gauging my reaction, but I remained expressionless. There was nothing Matteo could say that would pierce my armor. Let him hurl his insults and accusations. I’d heard worse from better men.
“I never said it was for free. I work for him,” Emilia said softly, her voice steady even if her hands trembled slightly. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” Matteo leaned back, wincing as he shifted his weight. “Because it looks to me like you’ve just signed yourself up as another pawn in his game.”
I had to suppress a snort at that. He thought he understood me, knew what I was after. He didn’t realize he was a small piece on a far larger chessboard, one he couldn’t even see.
Finally, I spoke, letting my voice break the silence. “You don’t know anything about me, Matteo. But if you want to keep assuming, be my guest.”
His glare turned colder, a mixture of anger and defiance. “I know enough to keep my sister away from you.”
“Your sister can make her own decisions.” I glanced at Emilia, whose gaze remained fixed on Matteo, as if trying to shield herself from the tension between us. “She doesn’t need you to play the hero.”
Matteo’s jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the sheets. He looked at Emilia, and for a moment, his anger softened, replaced by worry. “I’m just trying to protect you, Em. You’re all I have left.”
Emilia placed a hand over his, her face softening. “I know, Matteo. But you have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
There was strange silence in the room. Matteo was protective, and Emilia… she was trapped between loyalty to her family and the deal she and I had agreed on. If she’d spoken up, said something to defend me, maybe Matteo’s opinion would have changed. But she remained silent, caught in her own head.
Finally, she glanced over at me, her eyes filled with something close to regret. “Thank you… for coming,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was almost an apology, like she knew she’d put me in an awkward position and didn’t know how to fix it.
I gave a slight nod, acknowledging her words but offering no more than that. If she wanted to play diplomat between her brother and me, that was her choice. But I wouldn’t bend to placate Matteo or anyone else.
Matteo cleared his throat, pulling Emilia’s attention back to him. “When are you coming home?” he asked, a small note of desperation in his voice.
Her face softened, and for the first time since we’d arrived, her eyes held a hint of sadness. “Soon,” she said quietly, though I could tell she didn’t fully believe her own words.
“Good,” he muttered, shooting me one last glare. “You belong with family, not… this.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. As if he had any idea what kind of “this” his sister was involved in. People like him, those who sat on the sidelines of my world, always thought they understood the stakes, the sacrifices. But they never did. They couldn’t.
“Well,” I said, pushing myself off the wall, ready to leave this little reunion. “It seems you have a lot to talk about. I’ll be waiting outside.”
I didn’t wait for a response, stepping out of the room without a backward glance. If Matteo wanted to play protective brother, he could do it without me in the room. It wasn’t my place to interfere in family matters anyway.
The hallway was quiet, and I took a few deep breaths, trying to rid myself of the tension that had settled in my shoulders. Matteo’s accusations didn’t matter, but Emilia’s silence… that was a different story. She hadn’t defended me, not once, even when she knew the truth. Part of me respected her loyalty to her brother, but another part found it… irritating.
I waited, hands in my pockets, my gaze fixed on the sterile walls. After what felt like an eternity, Emilia finally emerged, her face tired, her eyes downcast. She closed the door softly behind her, her shoulders slumping as she walked toward me.
“Thanks… for coming with me,” she said, her voice barely audible.
I nodded, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. She could have managed this on her own. I’d only come because she asked. That was utterly stupid on my part. I never should have come.