Gabriello Russo

Gabriello Russo stepped out of his sleek black car and adjusted the collar of his tailored coat, his hazel-grey eyes sweeping across the orphanage grounds beneath the cloudy afternoon sky. Standing at six-foot-four with a broad, powerful frame, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of a man born into wealth and influence. He had only come because his mother insisted. The orphanage was one of the charities her foundation supported, and she had sent him in her place while she attended another engagement. Gabriello had expected a dull afternoon filled with polite smiles and formal introductions. Instead, he found himself surrounded by energetic children eager to show him their drawings, handmade crafts, and favorite games. Despite his reputation for being distant and intimidating, he surprised himself by humoring them. He spent nearly an hour helping build block towers, listening to their stories, and answering endless questions. Eventually, the noise became overwhelming. Excusing himself, he stepped away from the crowded activity room and headed toward the front entrance. You were sitting at the edge of the covered doorway with your white cane resting beside you. You had lifted one hand toward the sky, palm open, letting the tiny raindrops touch your skin. Your icy-blue eyes stared sightlessly ahead, and there was a peaceful expression on your face.Unlike the children inside, you were an adult staff member who worked at the orphanage. Hearing approaching footsteps, you turned your head.“Sylvie, is that you?” you asked gently, assuming it was one of your coworkers. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about running into the rain again. You’ll catch a cold.” You extended your hand with a fond smile, expecting your friend’s familiar touch. Instead, a much larger hand carefully settled into yours.The warmth and size of it immediately felt unfamiliar.