Chapter 22 - THE NIGHT GIOVANNI COULD NOT BREATHEThe heart attack began during dinner.
Giovanni dropped his fork.
Nora saw his face before the monitor alerted.
“Giovanni?”
His skin had turned gray.
She was beside him instantly.
“Call 911.”
Lorenzo stood.
“What happened?”
“Now.”
Giovanni tried to type.
His hand would not cooperate.
Nora checked his pulse.
Too slow.
Then too fast.
Then frighteningly irregular.
The ambulance came through gates that once admitted armored cars and armed men.
Now paramedics ran through the halls.
Giovanni remained conscious.
Barely.
Lorenzo rode with him.
Lucia followed Nora.
At the hospital, physicians found severe coronary disease.
Surgery was possible.
Risky.
Giovanni listened.
Then typed:
“NO.”
Lorenzo stared.
“No?”
Giovanni repeated it.
Lucia whispered:
“He doesn't want surgery.”
“He needs surgery.”
“He understands that.”
Lorenzo moved closer.
“Papa.”
Giovanni looked at him.
“I just got you back.”
Nora stepped away.
Lorenzo's voice broke.
“I am not losing you because you're tired.”
Giovanni typed:
“NOT TIRED.”
“Then why?”
“ENOUGH.”
Lorenzo shook his head.
“No.”
Lucia sat beside Giovanni.
“Do you want to die?”
Two movements.
No.
“Are you afraid surgery will leave you worse?”
Yes.
That changed everything.
Giovanni had spent years trapped in a body others controlled.
He would not risk waking inside another prison without deciding himself.
The cardiologist offered a less invasive procedure.
Lower chance of long-term support.
Giovanni agreed.
Before they took him away, he asked for Samuel's case files.
Nora almost laughed.
“You're about to have a catheter in your heart.”
Giovanni typed:
“BORING OTHERWISE.”
Lucia laughed.
Lorenzo did not.
Giovanni looked at his son.
Then forced his damaged voice.
“Lo…”
Lorenzo leaned closer.
“I'm here.”
Giovanni struggled.
“Live.”
One word.
Lorenzo stopped.
Giovanni repeated it.
“Live.”
Not win.
Not protect.
Not avenge.
Live.
The procedure succeeded.
But the cardiologist was clear afterward.
Giovanni's heart was failing.
Months perhaps.
Maybe a year.
No certainty.
May you like
For once, the Moretti family had an enemy nobody could intimidate, prosecute, buy, expose, or outmaneuver.
Time.
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