Seven Years in a Dream, Awake at Last Chapter 06

Seven Years in a Dream, Awake at Last Chapter 06

Alessandro’s POV 

My father gripped my arm as we walked into the Lucchese mansion. “Let me do the talking.” 

didn’t answer. 

They led us to a conference room. Sloane sat at the head of the table, and she belonged there. When she looked at us, it was the way you’d look at strangers. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Gambino.” Her voice was cold. “I understand you wanted to speak with me.” 

My father stepped forward. “Miss Lucchese, we came to apologize. For everything our family has done to you. We were wrong.” 

“We were trying to protect our son,” my mother added quickly. “We didn’t know who you were. We thought 

“You thought I was nobody.” Sloane’s eyes didn’t move from my father’s face. “Someone you could hurt without consequences,” 

“Yes,” my father said. “And we were wrong.” 

Sloane leaned back in her chair. “The financial pressure on your family will stop today. Consider it a warning, not a sentence.” My mother looked like she could breathe again. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

“But I need you to understand something.” Sloane’s gaze finally shifted to me. “I don’t want to see your son again. Ever. Tell him to stop coming to my office. Stop sending gifts. Stop everything.” 

Something twisted in my chest, but my father was already answering. “We will. Alessandro, let’s go.” 

I didn’t move, and my mother grabbed my other arm. 

“Come on.” 

Sloane stood up, ready to leave. 

“Wait.” I pulled away from my parents and stepped in front of her. “Please. Just listen.” 

“There’s nothing left to say.” 

“I love you.” My voice broke. “That was real. 

Everything else, the lies, the marriage, I was wrong. But what I felt for you? That was always real.” 

She didn’t react, didn’t soften. “I divorced Camilla,” I continued. “The second I realized what I’d done to you, I divorced her. I know I fucked up. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I’m begging you. Please. Give me one more chance.” 

“I don’t hate you anymore, Alessandro.” For a second, I thought maybe-“But I’m not going back either.” She looked at me. “You’re free. Your family is free. Just stay away from me.” 

She nodded at the guards, and they escorted us out. 

I called an emergency board meeting the next day. 

“I’m stepping down,” I announced. “Effective immediately.” 

My father stood up. “Alessandro, what are you doing?” 

“What I should have done years ago.” I looked around 

the table. “I’m liquidating my personal assets. Everything goes to charity. In Sloane’s name.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I am.” I signed the documents right there. “It’s done.” 

Three days later, I drove to her office building. I had a ring in my pocket, the one I should have given her five years ago, and a letter I’d spent two nights writing. 

I wanted to give them to her receptionist. Say goodbye properly. Then disappear. 

But when I got to the underground parking garage, I saw Camilla. 

She was crouched by Sloane’s car, doing something to the brake line. 

“What the hell are you doing?” I ran toward her. 

She spun around, eyes wild. “This is your fault! You ruined my life!” 

“Get away from the car.” 

“No!” She pulled something from her jacket. A remote detonator. “I planted bombs. All over this garage. She took everything from me. Now I’m taking everything from her.” 

Fuck. “Camilla, don’t!” 

She pressed the button. Nothing happened. She pressed it again and again, frantically, and I saw my chance, lunged for the remote. 

She fought back, clawing at my face, and then I felt it, something cutting into my stomach. 

I looked down. Blood was spreading across my shirt. But my hand was still on the remote. 

Get it away from her. 

I stumbled toward the emergency sprinkler system, smashing the glass with my elbow. Water poured down. I threw the remote into the flooding drain. 

It sparked once, then went dead, 

“No!” Camilla screamed. “NO!” 

Security alarms went off, footsteps echoing as people. started shouting. I collapsed against the wall, my hand pressed to my stomach, blood seeping through my fingers. 

Then I saw her, Sloane, running toward me. 

“Get Camilla,” I managed to say. “She’s…” 

“I know.” Sloane’s voice was sharp. She nodded at the guards. “Take her.” 

They dragged Camilla away, still screaming. 

$loane knelt beside me. Her hand replaced mine ok the wound. “You’re going to be okay.” 

“I stopped it,” I whispered. “The bombs. They won’t…” 

know. Just shut up and stay awake.” 

The ambulance came. They loaded me onto a stretcher. I couldn’t see straight. But I could still see Sloane standing there, watching. 

I woke up in a hospital room. And Sloane sitting in the chair beside my bed. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

I tried to sit up. My stomach hurt like hell. “How long 

“Two days.” She stood up, moving to the window. “The doctors say you’ll recover. Eventually.” 

“Good.” We sat in silence for a moment before she spoke again. 

“I’m pregnant,” she said quietly.