Chapter 11 - Reclaiming Strength
The following morning, instead of reviewing tactical maps for the impending war against Carmine, Dominic’s penthouse study was rearranged. Heavy executive furniture was pushed aside to make space for parallel rehab bars and physical therapy equipment that Dominic’s medical concierge had managed to rush-order overnight at triple-pay rates. Nora stood beside the parallel bars, wearing her comfortable clothes, holding a stopwatch and a water bottle like a seasoned personal trainer. Dominic sat in his wheelchair at the edge of the bars, staring up at the polished metal rails with a mixture of determination and deep-seated fear. “Alright, Boss. Show time,” Nora announced cheerfully, clapping her hands together. “You’ve bossed around half of New York for twenty years. Now you’re going to listen to a single mother from Queens.” Dominic let out a dry cough of nervous laughter. “Nora, if I fall on my face, I’m blaming you.” “Excuses are like bad pastry—nobody wants them,” she retorted with a grin. “Grab the bars.” Dominic gripped the cold steel rails with both hands. His knuckles turned white as he summoned every ounce of upper-body strength, bracing his core, and pushed himself upward out of the wheelchair. For three agonizing seconds, his torso hovered above the seat, trembling under the sudden strain. “Breathe, Dominic! Don't hold your breath!” Nora coached fiercely, stepping close to support his waist. With a strained grunt, Dominic locked his elbows and shifted his weight forward, placing his feet between the parallel bars. His legs felt heavy, like blocks of solid lead, completely unresponsive to his mind’s frantic commands. A sharp wave of frustration flared in his chest, tempting him to drop back into the chair and surrender to the familiar safety of numbness. “Don't you dare quit on me now!” Nora commanded, her voice ringing with absolute, unyielding belief. “Look at me, Dominic! Look at your son in the next room! You are a fighter! Now take a step!” Tears of intense physical and emotional exertion burned behind Dominic’s eyes. He focused entirely on Nora’s steady, encouraging gaze. Slowly, painfully, he forced his right hip forward, dragging his right foot an inch across the floorboards. Snap. A faint, electric tingle shot down his right thigh—a microscopic jolt of sensation that hadn't fired in four long months. Dominic gasped, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief. “Did you feel that?” Nora breathed, tears of joy welling in her eyes. “I... I felt something,” Dominic choked out, a raw, emotional break cracking his voice. “Again,” Nora whispered, gripping his waist tighter. “Take the next step.”
