Chapter 80
“I…I can’t, Luca p>
“This is not the first time,” he said, “and this will not be the last time.” His gaze locked on hers. “You have to learn what being in my world means.” He tightened his grip on her hand and lifted it slightly. “Watch p>
Vee’s eyes dropped. Blood smeared her fingers, darker now, tacky as it dried. Her stomach churned. She followed the line of her own hand to where the doctor worked. The doctor didn’t look at them. He didn’t care about the emotions cracking open in the room. This was routine to him.
Luca felt her shaking. He shifted his hand, threading his fingers through hers. “Hey,” he murmured. “I’m fine p>
It was a lie and they both knew it. He was bleeding. He was weak. He was human. But Vee nodded anyway. She held on to his hand.
Why does this hurt so much?
Why did her chest feel like it was splitting open? Why did her heart shatter at the first flicker of pain crossing his face, at the tight inhale he tried to hide? Why did the thought of him dying terrify her?
Her gaze drifted, unfocused, to the IV stand as the doctor prepared a blood transfusion.
When did he get inside me?
“You…you know his blood type?” Vee blurted suddenly. She looked at the doctor, then back at Luca.
Luca exhaled slowly, a faint, strained chuckle ghosting past his lips. “He is my doctor, Vee. The code you sent told Marco everything he needed to know.” He squeezed her hand again. “He knows exactly what he’s doing p>
That should have reassured her. It didn’t. Because what terrified her wasn’t the competence in the room. It was the certainty settling in her bones.
This was his life.
Blood. Violence. And if she stayed, this would not be the last time she’d stand over him wondering if he would live.
Vee nodded then. Her shoulders sagged.
“Actually,” Luca said, “I thought you would be relieved if I die p>
Vee’s head snapped up. She looked at him. “I once said that prayer,” she admitted quietly.
The honesty startled even her. She didn’t decorate it. There had been a time when Luca represented everything terrifying. A world that devoured girls like her sister and called it commerce. Back then, wishing him dead had felt right.
“And now?” Luca asked. He winced as the doctor pulled a stitch tight, jaw tightening reflexively, but his eyes never left hers.
“I don’t want you hurt,” she said.
That was it. Simple.
Luca smiled then. Progress, he thought dimly. Good progress. Worth bleeding for.
Time blurred after that. The doctor finished his work, murmuring instructions to Marco and the men stationed outside. Luca’s breathing evened out as the medication took hold, his body finally surrendering to sleep. He looked younger. Beautiful.
It would be a while before he could be moved.
Vee rose quietly and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She turned on the faucet and stared as water rushed over her hands, pink at first, then clear. Blood swirled down the drain in thin ribbons, stubborn where it clung beneath her nails. She scrubbed harder than necessary.
When she stepped back out, men stood guard at every angle, dressed in dark clothes, faces impassive. Bastardi and his men were gone, erased as efficiently as they had arrived. Somewhere, in some black hole, Bastardi would learn exactly how expensive his mistake had been.
Her father sat on the couch where Luca had left him, shoulders hunched, hands trembling faintly in his lap. He looked small. Older. Afraid.
She didn’t blame him for calling her. Not truly. He had a gun to his head. He had panicked. He had chosen himself. The thought didn’t shock her anymore. It settled into place with grim acceptance. But the certainty that followed was colder.
If it had been her.
If a gun had been pressed to her skull and someone had demanded Valentina in exchange, she would have died there. That was the difference between them. Strength.
But that was her burden to carry, not his.
Vee turned back toward the bedroom where Luca slept.
Then his phone began to vibrate.
She crossed the space quickly and picked it up from the bedside table. It was a video call from a Bianca.
Luca was unconscious. Marco was outside. Decisions, once again, were landing in her hands.
She hurried out of the room, the phone buzzing insistently in her grip, and found Marco in the hallway speaking quietly to one of the men. “I… I didn’t know if it was important,” Vee said, holding the phone out.
Marco took it instantly. His jaw tightened the moment he saw the name. He swiped to answer just as Vee turned to head back toward the bedroom.
“Marco?” The voice burst from the screen. “Where is my husband? What the hell are you doing with his phone?” The woman’s face filled the screen. Beautiful. Dark hair sleek, makeup flawless, eyes burning with suspicion. “Julian told us you betrayed my husband. Where is he p>
My husband.
My husband.
The words echoed, again and again, bouncing violently inside her skull. Her feet stopped moving. The hallway seemed to tilt, the walls narrowing. She turned slowly, eyes wide, staring at Marco.
Husband.
“Mrs. Genovese,” Marco said smoothly. “I’ll have Luca call you as soon as he can. Have a good day, ma’am p>
The screen went dark.
Marco lowered the phone slowly and finally looked up. That was when he saw Vee’s face. The color had drained from it entirely, leaving her pale, eyes glassy, lips parted. Shock clung to her features.
Marco swore under his breath.
Luca didn’t tell her?
She turned back toward the bedroom slowly. Luca slept on, unaware, breathing evenly, stitched together.
Nonnina, despite the tightness around her eyes and the way her hands trembled just slightly as she clasped her rosary, had prepared the recovery room long before Luca’s car even turned into the gates. Marco had called her ahead of time. She did not need details. Nonnina felt danger in her bones before words ever arrived.
(I did it! I did it. Okay, yeah. i thought i would do it in two days but hey, i still beat the time p>