“I can’t lose her.”The confession escapes my lips, raw and bleeding.“Dad, I can’t...I don’t know how to survive that.”
Jack remains quiet for a long moment; his face looks older than I’ve ever seen it.The lines deeper.The shadows heavier.For the first time, I see something beyond the patriarch, beyond the Syndicate founder, beyond the man who raised me to be stronger than my fears.
Before me is a man who has lost so much.He understands that pain.
“Let me tell you something about Martha Boyle,” he says finally.
Hearing her name still hurts.Five years since mom was taken from us, and the wound hasn’t healed.I don’t think it ever will.
“Dad, I don’t think?—”
“When I met your mother,” he continues, as if I hadn’t spoken, “I was already in too deep.We were building something from nothing, and that kind of building requires blood and bone.I’d done things, Shelby.Things that would have sent any sensible woman running.”
I know some of those things.The stories were passed down through family legend.The violence that built our empire.The bodies buried in foundations that became the bedrock of our power.
“She knew who I was,” Jack says.“What I was.I didn’t hide it from her.I told her everything because I thought honesty would drive her away.I thought if she saw the real me, the monster inside, she’d realize I wasn’t worth the risk.”He pauses, his eyes distant with memory.“She didn’t run.She looked me in the eye and said, ‘Jack Boyle, I didn’t fall in love with a saint.I fell in love with a man.And that man is worth fighting for.’”
My throat tightens.I’ve heard this story countless times before, through childhood and beyond.I’ve heard it from Dad’s perspective and Mom’s.But never like this because now my own story gives me a different point of view.Now, I see my parents’ marriage through the lens of my relationship with Serena.And that makes a world of difference.
“She chose me knowing the danger,” Jack continues.“Knowing the violence.Knowing that being with me meant walking into darkness with no guarantee of finding the light again.She could have had a normal life.A safe life.A husband who came home at predictable hours and never had blood on his hands.”
“But she chose you.”
“She choselove.”He leans forward, his blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that pins me in place.“Every single day, she chose love over fear, even when it was hard, especially when it was hard, when it cost her.She chose love when far easier options were right there in front of her.”
He studies my face, waiting for my reactions.I shake my head, still unable to wrangle my wayward feelings into coherent thoughts.
Dad goes on, “Your mother used to say something.She said the only real failure in life isn’t falling.It’s refusing to get back up, to try again.You’re refusing to try with Serena, son.And that’s not protecting her.It’s punishing both of you.”
The accusation hits like a blow to the sternum.Fighting to breathe, I counter, “I’m not.I’m planning an assault to bring her home.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”Jack’s voice is gentle but relentless.“You can rescue her body.You can kill everyone who took her and burn Giovanni’s empire to ash.But if you don’t open your heart to her, if you keep hiding behind your fear of loss, you’ll lose her anyway.Just more slowly.”
Somewhere beneath the alcohol and the exhaustion and the fear, I know he’s right.
His words find the cracks in my heart that I’ve been trying to fill with whiskey.Something shifts.Not healed yet, but maybe the bleeding's finally slowing.Maybe choosing love over fear can patch up my wounds.Then, after I save Serena, the real healing might begin.
“I’ve been so focused on not failing her the way I failed Abeera,” I say slowly, the realization crystallizing as I speak.“So focused on protecting myself from the pain of losing her that I never stopped to consider I might be pushing her away instead.”
“Trust isn’t something that happens to you,” Jack says.“It’s something you choose.Every day.Every moment.You choose to believe in someone even when doubt whispers in your ear.You choose to stay open when closing off feels safer.”He reaches across the desk and grips my hands, grounding me.“Your mother chose to trust me for forty years, through wars and betrayals and losses that would have broken lesser people.She never stopped choosing.And I never stopped being grateful.”
Grief wraps itself around my heart like steel.This time, I let it in instead of shoving it down.I grieve for Abeera.For those children in Russia.For my mother.For the man I used to be before Syria shattered something fundamental inside me.And beneath all of that, the terror of losing Serena.
“I love her.”The words come out broken, barely a whisper.“I love her so much it terrifies me.”
“Good.”Jack’s grip tightens.“That terror means it’s real.Means it matters.The only things worth having are the things that scare us enough to fight for them.”
Again, I call to mind the moment I asked Serena to marry me, for real this time.And her prompt reply.Yes.A thousand times, yes.
She did choose me.Despite my darkness, my broken pieces, and every reason she had to walk away.She looked at the monster and decided I was worth fighting for.
And what have I done with that gift?
I’ve been calling my fear wisdom, I realize.I’ve been calling my self-protection strength.But it’s neither.It’s cowardice.
The realization is brutal.But there’s clarity in brutality.Relief in finally seeing the truth I’ve been running from.
“What if she decides I’m not worth it?”The question escapes before I can stop it.The fear that’s been lurking beneath all the others raises its ugly head.“What if she sees who I really am and realizes she deserves better?”
