Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
One of my father’s nurses jumps in with us, her face paling.
Lifting Alyssa’s dress, an oozing red slash pumps her life from her. “We need to apply pressure to her wound,” the woman says, ripping a piece of her shirt and pushing down on the slit.
I gather the dress up and hold it to the wound on her back. “Please, baby. Please be okay.” There’s so much fucking blood.
She’s as pale as milk. Not conscious. I can’t lose her.
Her blood drenches me, a warm river soaking into my slacks.
My worst fear is coming to fruition.
Tears blur my vision as the nurse begins pumping her chest, blowing into her mouth,
I’m dying.
She’s going cold in my arms.
I can’t breathe.
Please don’t leave me.
Chapter Forty-Six
Alyssa
Everything hurts and feels stiff. My throat is dry. My eyes attempt to open, peeling like skin from a burn. Light intrudes, blinding me.
“Luca, she’s waking up.” Is that Hannah’s voice?
“Baby?” Luca…
Memories of what happened assault my mind. Tears leak free. “It was Marcello,” I choke out, my voice not sounding like my own.
“It’s over. I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry, Alyssa.”
His hand wraps around mine, his head resting against my forehead.
The beautiful blue of his eyes come into focus. “Luca,” I breathe out, grateful to see him. “Why?” I ask, remembering them exchanging words.
I couldn’t focus on them.
“It’s a long story. None of that matters. You’re okay—we’re okay—that’s all that matters.”
The door to the left opens, and a man enters. “She’s awake?” I know that voice.
“Dad?” I croak.
“You’re awake.” He sounds relieved.
“You came?”
“Of course I came.” He strokes my hair from my forehead. “You’re a lucky girl. You’ll still dance,” he informs me, but it doesn’t bring me comfort. Just knowing I’m alive is enough.
“If you want to,” Luca adds for him. “Only if you want to dance.”
“I love you,” I tell him, brave and truthful. His lips part, his face contorting in pain, relief, joy.
“I love you too.” He chuckles, bringing his lips to my head. “God, I fucking love you too.” My chest expands, my head feeling free.
“You do?” I cry, my stomach twinging, bringing pain. I embrace it, anchor it inside me so I don’t forget this moment.
“You’re hurt?” I announce, noticing the sling on his arm.
“It’s nothing,” he tells me.
Hannah comes into focus at the end of the bed. “I’m so sorry, Alyssa. I should have gone to Luca…I was just so scared…” she cries, her hands covering her mouth.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “Can someone please bring me a drink.”
A round of laughs ring out, then movement. The nurses come in. They sit me up, check my monitors, and finally offer me a cup of water, placing a straw to my lips.
When she pulls it away, I remember something and announce, “I shot your brother in the foot.”
My dad looks to Luca, then back to me. “Were you aiming for the foot?” he asks, and it makes me smile.
“Yes.”
“Did he deserve it?” Luca adds.
“Yes. He’s an asshole,” I breathe out, getting tired again. “But he is your brother.”
“You need to rest. We will rebuild from this. No one will ever hurt you again.”
“Or you,” I tell him, clutching his hand. “I’ll protect you and love you for infinity and then more,” I whisper, my eyes getting drowsy as he says, “And then more.”
Epilogue
Luca
The drive is long. I could have just let Thomas come, but there are some things you have to deal with yourself in person, and this is one of those things.
Looking out the window, I enjoy watching the change in scenery, thinking of my beautiful queen at home planning what she intends to do with the gift I gave her as a late wedding present.
It took some bribery and a lot of money, but Swan academy is now hers to do with as she pleases. No more whoring out their dancers to perverted old cunts.
I open my notebook on my phone, adding the name of the man who tried to buy her to my list. I may even invite Alyssa along for that one.
Her wound healed beautifully. A two-inch scar on her back and six inches on her front from the small operation to stop the bleeding.
My injury healed without issue, but Antonio had to have physiotherapy, which he got while doing a rehab treatment plan.
I gave him Annemarie’s letter, her confession to being pregnant with Marcello’s baby, her shame and fear that Marcello would never allow them to be happy together. She was right, he wouldn’t have.
Marcello’s injuries should have been fatal, but the bullet to the head lodged in part of the brain we don’t use. It left him in a coma.
The doctors suggested we harvest his organs and donate them, but I like the idea of him lying there alive but dead in a sense.
He doesn’t deserve closure. He doesn’t deserve death. Let him suffer. He’d hate being there wasting away.