Denver Roque Velasquez POV (Part 4)
 
"Goddamn you, Saavedra."
 
I looked at the place where the tracking had led me. The whole place was destroyed, including houses and furniture. There are only a few people here. And their faces were gloomy and hopeless. I felt as if I would crumble. My feet can’t move. Sharmienne experienced this?
 
I couldn't protect her.
 
I’ve been searching for her, only to see a situation like this. As soon as I received the notice, I immediately booked a flight to get here. And this was what I encountered. I even talked to her parents just so I could be sure that she was safe. I promise them that I will protect their daughter. But this... this happened.
 
I was in rage. To Daniel. To the Master They planned this. But I won't make anything worse. I needed to see her.
 
"Velasquez."
 
That voice. I glanced at the man whom I trusted. The one who was supposed to protect her while I was away He was limping while walking towards me, but I remained standing still.
 
This was his fault. Their fault.
 
"I am sorry, dude."
 
My fist tightened just before it made contact with him. The weight of my blow carried a tumultuous mix of emotions. The sensation was foreign, as it marked the inaugural occasion of my hand striking a friend. The surging tempest within me had surged to a point where restraint was no longer feasible; it was an eruption of ire that surged forth unchecked.
 
With each forceful strike, I vented my pent-up fury upon him, unrelentingly, until he lay incapacitated on the unforgiving ground. Beside me, a handful of agents attended to his fallen form. Their presence went unnoticed as my gaze remained riveted on him, ablaze with a blaze of abhorrence that mirrored the inferno within.
 
"You traitor. How could you keep her captive?" I hissed and sternly voiced out what I wanted to say. I was always blaming them. If they didn't... if...
 
It was their fault. But it was my biggest fault. I was responsible for her safety. To protect her. To assist her, but I couldn't do that at times like this.
 
"She's with The Master."
 
That's what Daniel told me. I didn't pay him attention and just went straight to that mansion. My mind was clouded. I don't know what to think anymore. I was worried about her. My wife.
 
This is my fault.
 
It must be that she's safe, but it must also be severe. On the phone call I had with her, I heard gunshots before a bombing sound. She's a victim of this.
 
As I arrived, a lineup of security personnel stood in my way, evidently intent on preventing my entry. My patience for arguments had run thin. Without hesitation, I engaged in physical confrontation with each person who initiated an attack. The skirmishes were close, intense clashes. It was apparent that they had been directed by The Master to halt my advance.
 
"I am her husband. Step aside."
 
An expletive escaped my lips as I surveyed the fallen men before me. Irony hung heavily in the air—the man I had once held in high regard now stood as the catalyst for the suffering my wife had endured.
 
"It's quite frank to come here, Velasquez."
 
"I want to see my wife."
 
"You must expect to get what you want."
 
With my fist tightly clenched, I launched myself at him. What in the world is his issue? He's the cause of Sharmienne's critical state. How could he subject his own daughter to this ordeal?
 
His hired henchmen swarmed me unexpectedly from all directions. Just as I was about to confront the mastermind behind all this, my strength gave out, and I crumbled onto the frigid floor. The sharp retort of silenced gunfire reverberated, the impact of the bullets sending waves of pain through me.
 
As darkness threatened to claim me, I caught a fragment of his words before slipping into unconsciousness.
 
"You need to calm down, you impulsive one."
 
A sharp pang of pain jolted through me as I regained consciousness. Beside me, a nurse diligently monitored my vital signs, and the world around me was a mixture of clarity and blur. My only course of action was to remain still, lying on the bed, as the nurse made a call for assistance. Gradually, her attention shifted to me, and a familiar face entered the room—a doctor who happened to be a friend of mine.
 
"Thank goodness you're awake now," he greeted me as he attended to my injuries. My body bore the marks of numerous gunshots, concealed beneath a patchwork of bandages. The allure of anesthesia beckoned, a relief I couldn't help but yield to.
 
“You’re still serving him?”
 
“That’s correct.”
 
“You’ve got it bad.”
 
I roamed my eyes around. It was really the Galvosa mansion. One of the headquarters of gangs. Even Zian Galvosa often stays here. This was the place I always visited whenever I finished my task. But it was before.
 
I can't explain how furious I was knowing that The Master was behind all of this. But it was also the Hawk’s fault. They are too reckless to give us a warning. They even sacrificed many lives just to get what they wanted.
 
"Where’s my wife?"
 
"I knew you would look for her."
 
He looks so serious that it didn’t give me a chance to even acknowledge why I was here. I just want to see my wife. How she’s doing: I was sure The Master would shoot me because I would be a threat to her, and I will definitely get rid of him once I see my wife and take her away from this. He has been my master since I was young. He knows how I think and act. He knows me so well that he planned to get rid of me first.
 
“Just let me see her.”
 
“She’s still unconscious.”
 
“Please…”
 
He sighed. “I am doing this because you look like shit, bud.”
 
He assisted me into my wife’s room. The room looks gloomy even with the ambiance of white-finished paint. She was the first I saw, lying unconscious on the bed. It tugged at my heart to see her like this. Her face was full of bruises from the recent incident.
 
I gripped the metal of my cane as I approached her. Every step I take feels heavy just by looking at her in this state. My wife. This is all my fault.
 
I stayed with her, looking at her sleeping so peacefully. Days passed by, and she was still in a coma. How could I not protect you, my wife? How could I let this happen to you?
 
I blamed myself for each passing day as she lay there. I couldn’t focus on anything, and I just wanted to be with her. Feeling her presence.
 
"Sir, I need to change her bandages. Please leave this room first," the nurse said one morning while I was with Sharmienne.
 
"Can’t I really stay here?"
 
The nurse's subtle head shake conveyed a message, one I comprehended without the need for words. With a nod of acknowledgment, I exited the room, only to be met by the presence of The Master just beyond its threshold.
"I heard you’re recovering."
 
"It was your order to get rid of me, anyway."
 
"You know me too well."
 
"Quit the act, master."
 
His gaze, firm and unyielding, remained fixed upon me. "You're still sticking with that name, huh, young man?"
 
I had grown accustomed to addressing him in that manner. He had assumed a role akin to a paternal presence since the time my own father entrusted me to his tutelage. And of course, he was also my wife's father.
 
"I can sense your resentment towards me for what's happened."
 
He's fully aware of it, yet he's putting on this show as if he has the power to keep me away from my wife.
 
"I never gave my blessing for you to be her husband."
 
I shot back, my voice firm and unyielding, "And who do you think you are to make that call? You might be her father, but she's in the dark about that."
 
"All of this was part of a mission, Denver. I was privy to all the schemes your father was hatching."
 
"Well then, have that conversation with him. I'm done with all of this. My wife belongs to me."
 
Two nurses trailed in behind the doctor, causing me to freeze right where I stood. What was going on? My curiosity compelled me to trail after them as they entered the room, where they began tending to my wife.
 
“Denver…”
 
As her voice uttered my name, a wave of emotions surged through me. It was in that fleeting moment that I realized I was on the brink of crumbling from the inside. My wife was awake.
 
“You need to leave, Velasquez.”
 
The doctor was there, but my attention was solely on her. My feet felt like they were stuck in place; I couldn't even move closer. Male nurses tried to hold me back, but I managed to break free from their grip.
 
"I have to be here!" I whispered urgently, my gaze never leaving my wife. "Sharmienne."
 
Eventually, they allowed me to remain by her side. The doctor also informed The Master about Sharmienne's condition. I remained steadfastly with her, ready to assert my right to be there no matter the argument. I was resolved to stay by her side, regardless of any opposition to our union.
 
I explained what happened to her. To Daniel and Kian and to the barrio she stayed in. I was clingy and wanted to be with her, not leave her side. I want her to be with me.
 
She was comfortable living with The Master, excluding the fact that he’s her father. She was also accustomed to getting close to him and even calling him his uncle. The Master resolved the differences between my father and him. I wasn’t informed how their conversation went on.
 
I also received new orders from my father, but I declined most of them. I want to be with my wife for now. It was a mistake to leave her alone with someone I thought I couldn’t trust.
 
Daniel took a break. He was guilty after all. Even though The Master was behind all of this, he was still at fault. But I won’t resent him for that anymore. It’s enough that he kept his distance from me and my wife.
 
Kian, on the other hand, was with Carmienne, for I think she aids him. They’re allies, after all. I don’t trust him fully for that, as he’s always on the gray side.
 
“It was no mere coincidence, my wife.”
 
I pressed my lips against hers, a deep and lingering kiss that spoke volumes of the longing I had carried. The ache of missing her, of yearning for those intimate moments we shared, consumed me. It was always her, the one who ignited these feelings within me. I could feel the softness of her arms wrapped around my body, a tender embrace that exchanged the warmth of our souls. In that closeness, the fire of desire flared between us, an undeniable force that bound us together.
 
I sensed a sudden tension in her as she looked at the calendar mounted on the door. It was as if a switch had been flipped, rekindling memories tied to a painful incident involving her sister.
 
That date, her sister's birthday, had become a trigger for these recollections. Despite her evident distress, I remained steadfastly by her side, unwilling to leave even in the face of her resistance. A stubborn conviction convinced me that she required my presence now more than ever.
 
My resolve held firm, and I persisted, choosing to reach out to her parents. They were aware that she was in the company of Mr. Galvosa, but their hesitation was rooted in their fear of The Master. I was determined to stand by her against whatever forces sought to keep us apart.
 
But I couldn’t grasp fate. I need her to be okay, and for now, she doesn’t need me. Her parents were with Kian and Carmienne. They were spitting facts and wanted to get rid of me after everything that happened. They opened up about the contract, saying that it was devoid. But I do not care anymore. All I want is my wife.
 
I pleaded in front of them. They clarified that they would just take care of my wife in the meantime. But I was more than surprised when Sharmienne stood by with me. She was firm as she stood up against them. As if she’s protecting me from them. Telling them that she wanted to stay with me. I was firm in my belief earlier that she would stay with me. Yet thinking of those she suffered because of me, I need to let her go.
"It would be toxic if we stayed together, wife. I know your plan to seek justice for your cousins. I understand your motivations, why you felt compelled to leave me so abruptly. I know everything."
 
I understand her reasons too well. I understand why she needs to do that. And I am still proud that she could make her decision and stand firmly without me.
 
"Denver..."
 
"And I want you to focus on yourself, Sha. Prioritize self-love rather than investing all your emotions in me. I have come to accept my own fate, the reality that I may not be able to reciprocate the depth of love you have for me. It takes time. And even if I were to confess my feelings now, it wouldn't make sense anymore."
 
Those times when she prioritizes me more than herself, I want her to grow without me, even if it means we’ll be apart. Even if it means I need to sacrifice this love I have for her. I will let her go for the time being until we are both ready to conquer anything we face. Together. Firmly.
 
"So, you're agreeing with them?" she asked, her voice strained, trembling. My eyes locked with hers, and her lips parted, her tears already streaming down her cheeks.
 
"Wife..." I reach out to wipe away her tears. "I'm sorry for letting go."
 
I pressed my lips tenderly against hers, a soft and lingering kiss that spoke volumes beyond the reach of mere words. In that gentle and bittersweet union, our intertwined emotions flowed between us, carrying with them the weight of our shared pain and the depth of the love we had nurtured over time.
 
We kept our distance. It was better this way. I focused on guarding her, doing my duties, and my missions, and tending to the company that bound my wife and me. This is what keeps me busy. But I couldn’t help but miss her. To always stay beside her.
 
I waited for opportunities to come to meet us once again. I was always looking for her from afar as she lived her life. Busy with her studies. Until I made my move. On my birthday. Two years after our first encounter. It all went back to me. Her innocent stares captivate me. It was memorable for me.
 
At that specific moment, I knew she had changed. Her style, habits, and maybe even her personality. But the innocence was still there. It was still her.
 
I understand her reasons too well. I understand why she needs to do that. And I am still proud that she could make her decision and stand firmly without me.
 
"Denver..."
 
"And I want you to focus on yourself, Sha. Prioritize self-love rather than investing all your emotions in me. I have come to accept my own fate, the reality that I may not be able to reciprocate the depth of love you have for me. It takes time. And even if I were to confess my feelings now, it wouldn't make sense anymore."
 
Those times when she prioritizes me more than herself, I want her to grow without me, even if it means we’ll be apart. Even if it means I need to sacrifice this love I have for her. I will let her go for the time being until we are both ready to conquer anything we face. Together. Firmly.
Her wearing that seductive dress turned me on. She got everyone’s attention as she walked down the street among the swirling people. She was all I could see in that moment.
 
I tried to look away, and Zerra Fey was too observant to notice that. She kept me company while I tried to avoid Sharmienne. And when I glanced to see where she was, she was with Clyde already.
 
"Did you plan this, Zef?" I glared at her, and she just chuckled at my reaction. Damn. She’s a cunning woman.
 
"Go after her."
 
No words needed to be exchanged. The determination to find my wife consumed me. I found her in conversation with my brother. Anger surged through my veins, along with a fierce desire to stake my claim on her right then and there. It was maddening. We engaged in conversation following the intimacy we had shared. I yearned to assert my possession of her, but I tempered my fervor, knowing this wasn't the place or time to consume her entirely.
 
I laid out the truth before her, as I always did when the gap between us widened. Whenever she seemed to slip away, this became my course of action to prevent her from slipping through my fingers once more.
 
Her reaction filled me with contentment, for she gifted me something truly precious. It was a larger portrait, meticulously crafted by her hands. It closely resembled the sketches she had gifted me before. The significance of this gesture resonated deeply with me. It was a gift with profound meaning. Unique and special.
 
She departed alongside her father, leaving me behind, and I counted the days until our paths would cross once more. Amid the demands of my life, I engaged in covert undertakings to secure a more extended span of time for our next reunion. News about her reached me sporadically, and I learned that her cousins had survived. Yet an unexpected blow awaited me—her departure after discovering the truth about her parents.
 
Her anguish was palpable, and I stood beside her through it all. What I never foresaw was her decision to leave once more, a move that left me blindsided. She left a letter in her wake. I couldn't bring myself to acquiesce to her plea for an annulment, as all I craved was to remain by her side.
 
During the periods I spent away, I pursued endeavors necessary to our cause. I cultivated connections, helped Mr. Golieza with their company, and made frequent visits, hopeful that she might make an appearance there as well. Eventually, my hope materialized, but it was accompanied by a twist: she arrived with her half-brother and Kian.
 
I couldn't muster up complete resentment toward her. In the depths of my heart, there was always a space for acceptance. A willingness to comprehend the choices she made and to untangle the threads of our connection. Yet, I found myself compelled to be honest about the emotions that surged within me.
 
I needed her to grasp what happened in the wake of her recurrent departures. The sense of emptiness, the void that consumed me—it was as if I had been rendered numb. But within that numbness, one certainty remained: she held the power to awaken me from this slumber.
 
On the day she returned, I sought solace in a drink. I poured forth all that I had longed to articulate in her presence. With her beside me, all I could do was allow her to stay and rekindle the pursuit that was unmistakably mine. I yearned to confess that each day without her was a symphony of absence, a perpetual ache that gnawed at me. I craved her presence—an eternal companion by my side.
 
"My wife. My lovely wife. I love you."
 
Finally, the words escaped my lips. Amid the turmoil, I couldn't recall if I had ever truly expressed the depths of my affection to her. Her recurrent departures were paradoxically, what fortified me, instilling hope that she would find her way back to me. My reliance on destiny was unwavering; I clung to the belief that our paths would converge once more.
 
It was a wish, a hopeful yearning to reunite with her. No more evading, no more running. This was us, standing resolute against the trials the world presented.
 
"Hubby..."
 
"I love you, my wife."
 
With that confession, we embarked on the path of reconciliation. We mended the fractures between us and began anew. Side by side, we ventured into all the experiences we had longed for. And as we retraced the beginnings of our journey, we found reconciliation in the very place where our eyes first met.
 
A smile curled upon my lips, a gentle acknowledgment of the present moment. This marked the inception. The genesis of a fresh dawn. A profound realization washed over me: despite the trials that had befallen us, a new chapter stood poised to unfold.
 
"È qui che è iniziato tutto, mia moglie."