Marco sat motionless in one of the waiting chairs, his arms crossed over his chest and his trembling fingers bunched into fists as he reminded himself to inhale and then exhale. Knowing that with the current predicament heavy in the air, he had the tendency to forget breathing.

He couldn't believe his own eyes, staring back at the red inflamed word: Operation.

Just three days ago – maybe more, maybe less – he had broken down and poured out to Sofia how everything was affecting him, how he had lost hope and believed that he would lose his brother. 

Now today, he sat outside the operation theater, with Salvatore inside on the slab and a team of the best physicians transplanting a heart into his chest.

At the realization of is brother getting a heart, forced him to down the laugh that bubbled inside him and instead focused his attention on those around him.

Nicole sat with her knees bobbing and her fingers twining together, staring out into space with bloodshot eyes. Arsenio was leaning forward in his seat, elbows on his knees and face covered by his hands as the barely noticeable tremor coursed through him. His mother was gnawing at her nails and pacing the floor with his father – the ever stoic figure – stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed and feet rapidly tapping on the ceramic tiles.

Just three days ago, he had asked himself how things could get any worse, and today, he was asking himself how they could get any better. He knew Salvatore wouldn't approve of his untimely optimism, given that they still had a few hurdles ahead of them, but he couldn't care, knowing that he would be able to hear Salvatore tsk at him in amusement of his joy.

That thought, bringing back the laugh he failed to suppress, covering it into his hands.

Nicole was up and about, his parents were safe an unharmed, not a scratch had come on neither him nor Arsenio and the kids were protected, Serafina had awoken from her coma and her faculties about her, Jayson was dead – the Leone Mafia annexed by the Regnante's – and now...now Salvatore was getting a heart.

It took five hours for the light overhead to turn off, and the moment the doctor stepped out, he was assaulted by questions.

"One at a time," He stepped back, holding his hand out to them, the stench of blood and antiseptic clinging to him. "One at a time, please,"

"Is he alright?" Rosalie spoke first, grasping her husband's hand in her own.

"The surgery was a success, but we can't know if he's alright until he wakes up, especially given how the body will reject the heart,"

"There is a chance of that?" Marco said.

"Yes, so we will closely monitor him in the ICU,"

"Can I see him?" Nicole urged.

"No, I'm sorry. He is taken into recovery where only authorized personnel is allowed, and after some time he will be shifted to the ICU, but given his fragile state, we can't allow anyone inside."

With that said, the doctor left them.

Leaving Nicole and Arcangelo to take the shift, Marco went back to the estate with the rest of his family, laying freshly showered and warmly clothed beneath his duvet, his phone pressed to his ear and his words hardly above a whisper. The girl on the other line responding just as softly, chuckling every once in a while. Both of them talking until they fell asleep.

In the morning, Marco went to relieve his father of his duty, and they both tried to convince Nicole of going home, but couldn't do it with the efficiency Salvatore would have managed. Hugging his father, they parted ways before the younger came to sit beside his sister-in-law, squeezing her hand in his own, giving her a comforting smile despite her ruffled hair and dark circles under her wide vacant eyes.

She was terrified for her husband, and rightfully so given how they found a team of medics rush into Salvatore's room, both of them on high alert.

"He just had a minor rejection episode," The doctor sighed, in no better condition than Nicole. "It's all been taken care of,"

"A rejection episode?" Nicole's voice cracked as Marco squeezed her trembling hand in his palm. "What does that mean? His body isn't accepting the heart?"

"It would, given that it is a foreign organ, and the body thinks it is a bacteria and attacking it. So we've given him an immunosuppressant to stop that from happening,"

"Will he be alright?" Marco asked as he pulled Nicole into his arms, the girl trembling in his hold at the words.

"I can't say until he wakes up,"

Nodding in appreciation, the younger settled back on the seats with the shaking woman in his arms, speaking consolations into her hair as she sniffled into his chest.

It took two more days to convince her to go home, everyone knowing that she needed to sleep and eat. The Mafia Boss's wife leaving Marco and Arsenio to look after her husband and had them promise to call her if anything happened. The desperation of wanting him to get better was so tangible in her that it had Marco's heart ache.

"And to think that I kept calling Salvatore a machine," Marco chuckled on one side of the bed, Arsenio sitting across from him. Both of them looking down at the lying figure, and unspoken relief flooding their system to see the color back in his face and fewer wires and tubes connecting him to machines. Even the subtle fogging and defogging of the oxygen mask resulted in a surge of euphoria.

"Those two really love each other,"

"Only a blind man would be unable to see how much they love each other," Arsenio teased, peering up at Marco from over the rim of his glasses, a book in his lap.

The eldest chuckled when the youngest struck out his tongue at the words.

Shaking his head at Marco's antics, Arsenio closed the book and looked up at the unconscious figure of his brother. Sighing, he took off his spectacles and wiped them with the edge of his shirt. Holding them up in the light to inspect for any smudges.

"I don't know if I should feel relieved or offended that there was no attempt of an attack on either one of us,"

"Well, I'm bloody relieved," Marco scoffed at the words. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about,"

Arsenio chuckled before straightening to hear shuffling from the bed. Both of them looking at each other before turning to look at Salvatore who drowsily turned his head.

Holding their breath, they watched his eyebrows scrunch up before he slowly cracked open his eyes. The blue of his irises hardly visible before he closed them again, only to try and open them once more.

The Mafia Boss looked at the blurry figures before him, an exhale rattling in his chest as he blinked to clear his vision. Making out the faces of Marco and Arsenio hovering above him. His chest ached with every breath he took, the pain forcing a groan out of him as he tried to place a hand on the abused area, but found that his entire body felt like lead. Unresponsive, heavy, and worn out.

"Salvatore?" Marco called out, redirecting his brother's gaze to him as the youngest smiled and took hold of his hand. Salvatore's eyebrows raising to feel the warmth of Marco's palm. "Can you hear me?"

He managed a feeble nod, feeling like he had been drugged for days on end, and winced at the loudness of his brother's laugh, the sound ringing in his ear.

"Hey, buddy," Arsenio's thick voice forced Salvatore's eyes to the tear-streaked smile of his elder brother, the pilot combing a hand through his matted and greasy hair. "How are you feeling?"

He could only let out a groan, unable to get his mouth working.

"Want me to call the doctor?" The eldest sniffled. "He can help you out?"

"Ni..." Salvatore forced his mouth open, forced his idle throat to work and form the words he wanted to get across, his chest hurting and his vision doubling. "Nici..."

"Nicole?" Marco sniffled as the desperation in Salvatore's eyes confirmed whom he was asking about, the younger's heart swelling at the love of these two. "She's fine! She's alright! She'd be excited to see you!"

Neither of the brothers had noticed how high strung Salvatore had been before the confirmation. His entire body sagged against the mattress and his head lolled to the side, the Mafia Boss exhaling softly and closed his eyes as if though he could finally rest. Swallowing the lump in his throat and managing a feeble nod.

"I'll call her," Marco assured, patting his brother's forearm before looking up at Arsenio to confirm that he could take it from here.

Leaving his elder brothers, he swallowed the lump in his throat as the tears burned his eyes and stepped out of the room. Looking up to see both of his parents stand at his exit.

"He's awake," Marco choked out with a laugh. "He's alright,"

No soon had he uttered those words, his parents were rushing in the direction of Salvatore's bedroom. Leaving Marco to stand outside with his hands on his hips and struggling to maintain his composure as he tried calling Nicole, receiving no answer. He tried a couple more times before telling Arsenio to try her. Walking away from the rooms while looking down at his contacts page.

Clicking on the screen, he felt the smile grow on his lips while the tears blurred his vision and a lump choked him. Marco rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"Marco?" Sofia's voice called to him urgently. "Is everything alright?"

"Could you come here?" His voice sounded strained and choked to his own ears, the tears streaking down his cheek while he braced the wall. "Is that possible for you?"

"I-Yes, sure. I'm on my way," She spoke breathlessly, feeling her fingers tremble at the sound of his voice. "I'll be right there," Sofia hung up the call, turning back to the men and women sitting around the conference room, waiting for her to resume her presentation.

Trying to regain her composure, he brushed her hand on the thighs of her black dress pants before tucking a stray strand behind her ear. Walking over to her laptop, she disconnected the cables and gathered her belongings.

"I am very sorry," She apologized to her superiors, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Unfortunately, I will be unable to continue the presentation due to an urgent family matter," Sofia hoisted her laptop bag over her shoulder and looked at the congregation with flushed cheeks.

"Have a good day, ladies and gentlemen," She stepped back, leaving the conference room and head for her office.

Grabbing her coat, she struggled to put it on before racing out her office like a woman on a mission.

Hailing a taxi outside the building, he gave the name of the hospital and could feel how taut her muscles were, her knee bouncing and she couldn't stop fidgeting with her fingers.

Her heart stopped outside the hospital, Sofia throwing a bill in the direction of the driver before running out the vehicle. Meeting his calls of change with a deaf ear before she hurtled into the interior, startling a few of the attendants.

Seeing a line outside the elevators, she rushed to the staircase. Her heels clacking against the floors as tears stung her eyes when she stumbled onto the third landing. Looking around her in search of Marco.

She caught sight of him just as a guard was coming to intercept her way.

Her breath freezing to see his condition. His hair a mess on top of his head with his jacket discarded and the button up untucked and ruffled, the first two buttons popped open. His cheeks were blotchy and his eyes bloodshot, and even from here she could see the tremors in his hands as he brought the phone down from his ear, tapping away at the screen with a frown.

The lack of the Regnante family in the waiting area did nothing to appease her tensions and she found herself lowering her laptop bag to her feet before rushing towards him, her chest squeezing to see him like this.

"Marco," She called out, ignorant to the guard behind her as he turned just in time to catch her stumbling into him.

Steadying the both of them, Marco held her by the shoulders and saw the tears welling in her eyes, threatening to smear all that mascara on her golden tipped eyelashes.

"Marco, I am-" Sofia began to choke out, feeling his warm and calloused palms cradling her face, her words dying away to feel him lean down and press his lips to hers.

A surprised sound escaped her and her eyes widened, holding her breath with no conscious thought, and was momentarily convinced that she was hallucinating. She was hallucinating the fact that Marco Regnante was kissing her in the middle of the hospital waiting room, surrounded by their Mafia household guards and his family around the corner.

Her fingers dug into his dress shirt until she felt the subtle heat of his body, the realization that he was kissing her hitting her ribs like a sledgehammer.

This is not what she had imagined kissing him to be like, she had been sure that his lips would he harder, rougher, and demanding even. She had imagined him to possessively hold her against him, grip her jaw into his hands and guide her.

She did not, on the other hand, expect him to cup her face into his calloused palms, his lips soft and warm against her own, coaxing even. She did not imagine to be so comforted by it.

Warmth surged through her as her eyes fluttered closed on their own, her fingers untangling from his shirt only to wrap them around his neck, pulling them closer as Marco's hands shifted from her cheeks, one cupping the back of her neck with the other resting against her side. 

Kissing him back.

People say that when you really look forward to kissing someone your world shifts out from beneath your feet, and fireworks ignite your body, sparks fly, and the world cracks open. But Sofia found, that at that moment, people were wrong.

Her feet had never been more sure about the standstill of the world beneath her, her body heated gently like the slow-burning of a kindling hearth, there were no fireworks, no sparks, and the world fell into place around her. Kissing Marco Regnante was exactly the opposite of what she had always imagined it to be like, and she wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Without realizing, she tried to keep him close to her when he began to pull away. Sofia standing in his hold in silence as their slightly labored breathing mingled with each other. He was close enough for their noses to touch, and she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. Afraid that if she opened them, everything would disappear like some wretched dream.

So she kept her eyes closed, reveling in the way his fading cologne wafted around her, his warmth enveloping her, or the way her lips were still tingling from where his hand been pressed mere seconds ago. Her mind couldn't begin to process it all, far too stunned to make a coherent train of thought.

Sofia let out a gasp and jumped when she felt Marco rub his thumb across her cheekbones, her sparkling eyes snapping open to look back at his blotchy cheeks and ruffled hair, his hazel eyes aflame with the sunlight streaking in, a wide grin splitting across his lips.

"Marco-" Sofia began breathlessly, her eyes shifting down to his lips.

"He's awake," His lips moved with the words, her eyebrows scrunching to think she had misunderstood. "Salvatore is awake," He clarified, and her eyes shot up to his in silent awe, knowing that she had rushed here on the false pretense that the Regnante Mafia Boss had died from his body rejecting the heart.

"Salvatore is awake and alright," Marco shook her shoulder, excitement vibrating through him like a child on Christmas morning, a laugh burst through him with tears welling in his eyes. "He's alright! My brother is alright!" He exclaimed as Sofia blinked once, twice, before finally registering the words.

A smile formed across her lips and watched him laugh breathlessly before she placed her palm against his cheek. Watching as the emotions made it difficult for him to catch his breath and his face contorted in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

"I am so happy for you," Sofia smiled and watched him choke on his sob, his fingers tangling into her coat's lapels before she wound her arms around him and pulled him down to her, holding him tight.

The tears soaking her clothes as she let him sob into her shoulder, clutching onto her in desperation, and Sofia was content with holding him as he cried and blubbered hysterically about how terrified he had been, how scared and vulnerable he had felt.

A smile playing across her lips as a deep warmth kindled in her to know that in his time of need and in his time of joy, she was the one he turned to.