Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Seconds feel like minutes as the call goes unanswered, and it feels like my life just flashed before my eyes. But all I can focus on is how Matteo is just lying here in a pool of his own blood, unresponsive, while I wish he would say my name one last time.
I can’t lose him. It’s too soon. Please, don’t die on me, Matteo.
“Matteo?” Finally, Franco picks up.
“He’s down! Matteo got shot! Help us!” I yell through the speakers, panic slicing my voice into pieces.
“Stella? Shit, I’m on my way.”
STELLA
Franco and his men arrive within a minute and immediately carry him back to the car we came to the cemetery in. I sit down on the back seat with my hand on his chest, still applying pressure to the wound so he doesn’t bleed out.
Matteo is brought to a special clinic by his own men, and the medical staff immediately take over, lay him on a bed, then wheel him into the next room. I follow them while they check for a pulse and give him oxygen.
“Is he going to make it?” I ask the medics.
“I don’t know, ma’am, but we’re going to do everything we can.”
They wheel him into a closed system where the operating room is, and when the doors close on me, I’m left with an incredible fear of the unknown.
What’s going to happen to him?
Will he survive?
I swallow away the nerves as I stare at his bed through the small window until he disappears from view.
My ears are still ringing from the gunshots mere minutes ago, and when Franco places a hand on my shoulder, I jolt up and down.
“Are you hurt?” he asks.
I shake my head, tears stinging in my eyes. “No. Matteo protected me. He kept me safe while they shot at him.”
Franco immediately pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
I’m overwhelmed, but I still push back the tears and swallow them down. I don’t know why I care so much, but I do. I don’t want him to die.
“Do you think he’ll make it?” I ask.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” Franco says. “But this private clinic is the best of the best. We can only put our faith in their hands.”
Four hours later
When the nurse exits the room again, I immediately get up from my seat in the waiting area.
“Is he still alive?” I ask.
She nods. “Barely, but yes.”
A smile erupts on my face, and I nearly sink down to the seat again because I feel unsteady.
Why did that just make me feel elated?
“Is he awake?” I ask.
“He’s still recovering. Three bullets were removed from his body, and he had a collapsed lung, but all in all, I think he’s happy to breathe again.”
I nod a few times. “And the wounds?”
“All sutured up. Still in dressing, of course.”
“Can I go see him?” I ask.
I don’t know why I want to, but I can’t let this go either.
She nods. “I’ll let you know when he wakes up, then you can go inside.”
Matteo
Hours later
My head is throbbing, and it’s so damn hard to open my eyes, but her voice pulls me back from the nether into the here and now.
“Matteo?”
Something is holding my hand, something soft, warm … something that makes my whole body tingle.
Stella.
A momentary sigh of relief leaves my mouth.
She survived. Thank God.
My eyes slowly open, but the bright lights are killing me.
“You’re awake,” she says.
“I’d prefer not to be, with those lights,” I mutter.
She chuckles, and it’s the most fabulous sound I ever heard.
“Laughing because of my misery now?” I jest.
“I’m laughing because you’re still your grumpy self.”
“Grumpy?” I frown with a playful smile on my face. “Who are you calling grumpy?”
Her hand squeezes mine. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got run over by a truck.”
She chuckles again in that most heartwarming manner.
“But I’ll manage if you keep laughing like that.”
“This clinic did the job well, if you’re joking around already.”
“That’s why I hired them. They’re the crème de la crème. Only for the biggest payers of course.” I wink. “They also keep their mouths shut toward the police like they’re supposed to.”
“Uh-huh. That’ll come in handy with your bullet wounds.”
I try to lean up, but the pain won’t let me, and I groan out loud, trying to defuse the agony.
“Don’t,” she warns me. “Your sutures haven’t healed properly yet.”
“You’re almost starting to sound like a berating wife, Tesoro.”
A blush creeps onto her cheeks. “I’m just saying slow down a little. You need to heal.”
“And you? Are you hurt?” I bring my hand to her cheek to caress her.
“No,” she replies.
I’m so happy she’s here. That she’s alive. That we made it out.
I throw her a look. “But you should have run when I told you to.”
She furrows her brows at me. “And leave you to fend for yourself?”