BLOODLINE CHRONICLE: A MAFIA FATHER'S JOURNEY

CHAPTER 02: RASHVIA'S PASSING

Hakimi felt his heart plummet. “What! What happened? Is she okay?” Panic seeped into his voice, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

“We don’t have all the details yet, but it’s critical. Please come as soon as you can.”

The line went dead, leaving him clutching the phone like a lifeline. Akashi’s wide eyes reflected the same dread clawing at Hakimi’s chest. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Your mother… she’s in the hospital,” Hakimi stammered, the words barely escaping his lips. “We need to go now.”

He frowned lightly "Isn't that normal, she works there?"

"No! She has been admitted!" He raised his voice

"Oh my GOD! Is she going to be okay?” Akashi’s voice trembled with fear.

“I don’t know, son. We just have to get there.”

The two dashed out of the house, the night air biting at their skin as they made their way to the car. Hakimi fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking, the world around him blurring in a haze of anxiety. As he started the engine, he stole a glance at Akashi, whose face was pale.

“Just hold on, Akashi. We’ll get there,” Hakimi said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

The drive felt like a descent into darkness, the city lights flickering by as if mocking his urgency. Every red light seemed to stretch on for an eternity, and Hakimi gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white.

“Dad, what happened?” Akashi’s voice broke the silence, laced with confusion.

“I don’t know, Hakimi admitted, his throat dry. But your mother is strong. She’s going to fight.”

As they approached the hospital, the towering structure loomed ominously in the distance. The urgency intensified in Hakimi’s chest as they parked, both rushing out of the car and into the reception area.

“Where’s my wife? Where’s Rashvia?” he demanded, his voice rising with desperation as he approached the reception desk.

A nurse looked up, her calm demeanor contrasting sharply with his panic. “Sir, please calm down. What’s your wife’s name?”

“Rashvia! Rashvia Rajvier!”

“Please have a seat. A doctor will be with you shortly.”

But Hakimi couldn’t sit. He paced back and forth, anxiety gnawing at him. Akashi stood by the desk, eyes darting around, unable to process the situation.

Finally, a doctor emerged, her expression serious but compassionate. “Mr. Rajvier? I need to speak with you about your wife.”

A knot tightened in Hakimi’s stomach. “Is she okay?”

“We did everything we could, but she’s still in critical condition. We need to move her to the ICU.”

The words struck Hakimi like a physical blow, the ground beneath him seeming to shift. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her?”

“There was an accident. She suffered significant injuries, including internal bleeding. We need to stabilize her.”

Akashi’s breath hitched beside him, and Hakimi felt his heart fracture further. “Can I see her?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet, sir. We’re doing everything we can. I need you to wait here.”

As the doctor turned away, Hakimi felt time elongate. Every minute felt like an hour, each tick of the clock amplifying the dread coiling in his gut. Akashi clutched his arm, his own fear palpable.

“Dad… what if…”

“Don’t think like that, Akashi. Your mother is strong. She’s going to pull through this. She always does.”

But as the minutes dragged on, Hakimi found it increasingly difficult to believe his own words. The hospital’s sterile atmosphere weighed heavily on him.

Finally, the doctor returned, her expression somber. “You can see her now, but please be prepared for what you’ll see.”

Hakimi’s heart raced as they followed her to the ICU. Each step felt heavy. When they reached the room, the sight before him sent a chill through his bones.

Rashvia lay there, pale and fragile, surrounded by beeping machines that seemed to echo his own heartbeat. An oxygen mask covered her face, and bruises marred her once-vibrant skin.

“Mom!” Akashi cried out, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Hakimi soothed, though his own voice trembled. He stepped closer, taking Rashvia’s hand in his, feeling the coldness of her skin against his. “I’m here, love. We’re here.”

But as he looked at her, the reality of their situation crashed over him. Would she be okay? The thought clawed at him, desperate and unrelenting.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his heart aching. “You have to come back to us.”

The beeping of the machines filled the silence, each sound a reminder of the fight ahead. Hakimi sat there, holding her hand, willing her to stay with them.

But then, Rashvia’s condition took a sudden turn. Her body began to convulse, the machines around her blaring in alarm. Blood trickled from her eyes, and her chest heaved violently.

“Dad! What’s happening to Mom?” Akashi screamed, panic gripping his voice.

Hakimi jumped to his feet. “Doctor! Someone get in here!”

Medical staff rushed in, carrying equipment. “Sir, I’ll need you to take your son and step outside,” one of them instructed firmly, donning a mask.

“I just—”

“Sir, please!” the nurse repeated, urgency etched in her face.

Frustration and helplessness overwhelmed him as he led Akashi out of the room. They waited in the hallway, the seconds dragging on like hours. Hakimi paced, running his hands through his hair, while Akashi sat silently, his head buried in his hands.

When the doctor finally emerged, her expression told Hakimi everything he needed to know before she even spoke. His world shattered.

Hakimi grabbed her by the collar, his voice choked with desperation. “What happened to my wife? Tell me! Is Rashvia dead?”

The doctor’s eyes brimmed with sorrow. “We did everything we could, but her injuries were too severe. I’m sorry.”

Hakimi’s knees buckled, and he stumbled backward, his mind refusing to process the words. Akashi stood frozen, his face pale, trying to grasp the weight of what he had just heard.

“No… no… this can’t be happening,” Hakimi muttered as he staggered toward the ICU. He pushed the door open and saw Rashvia lying on the bed, motionless, the steady beeping of the machines now replaced by a continuous flatline.

Akashi fell to his knees at her bedside, his heart shattering into pieces. He grabbed her hand, cold andV bruised from the trauma. “Mummy, please wake up… please don’t leave us…” he sobbed, his voice barely audible.

Hakimi stood beside him, unable to speak, unable to think. The love of his life, the mother of his children, was gone. Memories of their life together flashed before his eyes—her laughter, her warmth, the way she always knew how to comfort him when the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

He sank into the chair beside her bed, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch her one last time. “I’m so sorry, Rashvia,”