Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 90088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I shook my head. “It’s okay.”
She hopped off the bed. “I better tell Luca you’re awake, or he’ll rip my head off.”
She disappeared and a couple of minutes later, Luca stepped in. He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he let his gaze wander over me. Then he stepped up to the bed and pressed a kiss against my forehead. “Do you need morphine?”
My shoulder felt like it was on fire. “Yeah.”
Luca turned toward the nightstand and picked up a syringe. He took my arm and slid the needle into the crook of my arm. When he was done, he threw the syringe into the trash but didn’t let go of my hand. I linked our fingers. “Did we lose someone?”
“A few. Cesare and a couple soldiers,” he said, then he paused. “And Umberto.”
“I know. I saw him get shot.” My stomach churned violently. It still felt surreal. I’d have to write Umberto’s wife a letter, but I needed a clear head for that.
“What did that guy Vitali mean when he said you had something that belonged to him?”
Luca’s lips thinned. “We intercepted one of their drug deliveries. But that’s not important now.”
“What is important then?”
“That I almost lost you. That I saw you get shot,” Luca said in an odd voice, but his expression gave nothing away. “You are lucky the bullet only hit your shoulder. The Doc says it’ll heal completely and you will be able to use your arm like before.”
I tried a smile, but the morphine was making me sluggish. I blinked, trying to stay awake. Luca leaned down. “Don’t do that ever again.”
“What?” I breathed.
“Taking a bullet for me.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Taking a shower was a struggle. I had to cover my bandages with a waterproof cap, which was a major hassle, but the feel of the warm water washing away the blood and sweat was worth it. Gianna, Lily and Fabi had left less than one hour ago. Father had insisted they leave. Not that they were much safer in Chicago. The Bratva was closing in on the Outfit as well. At least, I’d had them with me a day longer than planned. They’d kept me entertained as I lay in bed while Luca had to take care of everything. As Capo he couldn’t abandon his soldiers. He needed to show them he had a plan of action.
I was already feeling so much better. Maybe that was the lingering effect of the painkillers I’d taken two hours ago. I stepped out of the shower and awkwardly put on my panties. I could move both of my arms, but the Doc had said I should use my left arm as little as possible. Putting on the nightgown proved more difficult. I’d managed to slip one strap over my injured shoulder when I stepped back into the bedroom where I found Luca sitting on the bed. He got up immediately.
“Done with business?” I asked.
He nodded. He came toward me and slid the second strap into place, then he led me toward the bed and made me sit down. We hadn’t been able to talk alone since our first conversation and then I’d been high on morphine.
“I’m fine,” I said again because he looked like he needed to hear it. He didn’t say anything for a long time before he suddenly knelt before me and pressed his face against my stomach. “I could have lost you two days ago.”
I shivered. “But you didn’t.”
He peered up at me. “Why did you do this? Why did you take a bullet for me?”
“Do you really not know why?” I whispered.
He became very still, but didn’t say anything.
“I love you, Luca.” I knew saying out loud was a risk, but I’d thought I’d die a couple days ago, so this was nothing.
Luca brought his face up to mine and cupped my cheeks. “You love me.” He said it as if I’d told him the skies were green, or that the sun revolved around the earth, or that fire was cold to the touch. As if what I’d said didn’t make sense, as if it didn’t fit into his view of the world. “You shouldn’t love me, Aria. I’m not someone who should be loved. People fear me, they hate me, they respect me, they admire me, but they don’t love me. I’m a killer. I’m good at killing. Better probably than at anything else, and I don’t regret it. Fuck, sometimes I even enjoy it. That’s a man you want to love?”
“It’s not a matter of want, Luca. It’s not like I could choose to stop loving you.”
He nodded, as if that explained a lot. “And you hate that you love me. I remember you saying it before.”
“No. Not anymore. I know you aren’t a good man. I’ve always known it, and I don’t care. I know I should. I know I should lie awake at night hating myself for being okay with my husband being the boss of one of the most brutal and deadliest crime organizations in the States. But I don’t. What does that make me?” I paused, staring down at my hands, the hands that had cradled a gun two days ago, at the finger that had pulled the trigger without hesitation, without a twitch or tremor. “And I killed a man and I don’t feel sorry. Not one bit. I would do it again.” I glanced up at Luca. “What does that make me, Luca? I’m a killer like you.”
“You did what you had to. He deserved to die.”
“There’s not one of us who doesn’t deserve death. We probably deserve it more than most.”
“You are good, Aria. You are innocent. I forced you into this.”
“You didn’t Luca. I was born into this world. I chose to stay in this world.” The words of my wedding day popped into my mind. “Being born into our world means being born with blood on your hands. With every breath we take sin is engraved deeper into our skin.”
“You don’t have a choice. There’s no way to escape our world. You didn’t have a choice in marrying me either. If you’d let that bullet kill me, you would have at least escaped our marriage.”