30. Amelia
Chapter 30
Amelia
T he pink diamond is heavy as I twirl it around my finger while I pace the sterile hospital corridor.
My heart pounds in my chest and the antiseptic smell stings my nose. Yet all I can think about is West lying on that operating table, fighting for his life because of me.
If we stayed in the penthouse, he’d still be fine.
If only I hadn’t complained about being bored.
If only I told him about the call.
I rub my temples to take away the pain.
The elevator dings, and I look up to see Catherine and Arabella rushing towards me. Worry etched on their faces, mirroring the anguish I feel.
“How is he?” Catherine demands, but her voice trembles.
I shake my head, fighting back tears. “They’re still operating. The bullet.” I swallow. “It hit an artery.”
As Arabella lets out a choked sob, Catherine pulls her close.
Gordon arrives moments later, his face a mask of cold fury and aimed at me. His eyes lock onto mine causing a chill to run down my spine.
He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze speaks volumes. He blames me for his son being in this sorrow state, but I do too.
After what feels like an eternity, Gordon approaches me. “A word,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He leads me to a quiet corner, away from Catherine and Arabella. “This is all your fault,” he hisses, his eyes blazing with anger. “If you hadn’t come into our lives, none of this would have happened.”
A surge of anger cuts through my fear. “No,” I snap back, surprising myself with my vehemence. I point my finger at his face. “This is on you. You’re the one who brought Vincenzo back to the US. You’re the one who ruined my life!”
Gordon’s eyes widen in shock, but before he can respond, I hear familiar voices. I turn to see Luca and Gabe striding down the corridor, their faces grim.
“Amelia.” Luca scans the area for potential threats before landing on Gordon. “Are you okay?”
I nod, relief washing over me at the sight of them. “I’m fine, but West took a bullet, and it hit an artery, and I’m—”
Gabe’s hand lands on my shoulder, a comforting weight. “We’re handling the situation. You don’t have to worry about it anymore,” he assures me.
My shoulders slump as a relief floods through me.
Gordon’s eyes narrow as he takes in Luca’s and Gabe’s imposing figures. “Who are these men?” he demands, his voice dripping with suspicion.
I lift my chin, drawing strength from their presence. “They’re my family.” My voice is steady despite the turmoil inside me. “The family I never thought I had.”
Gordon scoffs, but I can see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Family? You expect me to believe you never knew about them?”
“Believe it,” Luca interrupts, his voice low and dangerous.
He steps forward, positioning himself slightly in front of me.
Gordon recoils.
“We’re her cousins. And we’re here to make sure she’s safe. Apparently you!” Luca presses his pointer finger against Gordon’s shoulder. “Put my cousin in danger.”
“I—I—” Gordon stutters.
Not such a big man now.
I turn to Gordon, anger bubbling up inside me. “Admit it. You brought danger into mine and West’s lives. You invited Vincenzo back to the US, knowing full well who he was and what he was capable of. And now your son is being operated on and fighting for his life.”
Gordon’s face pales as he realizes how much he is to blame. “I promise I never knew who he was. I never spoke to the man. I just had investigators asking around in Italy about you.”
I press on. “Because you knew I was hiding something. Something I wanted to remain hidden. And thanks to you, the man I was hiding from shot your son.” I drill home the effect of his meddling.
Gabe nods, his expression grim. “But don’t worry. Vincenzo and his men won’t be a problem anymore.” His voice lowers. “But if you speak to anyone about us—”
Realization dawns on Gordon’s face and he gasps, “I won’t. I promise.” He takes a step back, his eyes darting between Luca, Gabe, and me. And for the first time, I see fear in his eyes.
“You’re right and I’m sorry,” he starts. “I thought you were a gold digger. Felix Featherstone called me, telling me you were his girlfriend, and I—”
Bloody Felix.
“I love your son, Mr. Davenport. I’ve loved no man like I love him.”
Gordon opens his mouth, then closes it again. He looks at me, really looks at me, perhaps for the first time. But I see the moment he realizes just how badly he’s misjudged the situation—and me.
“I’ll make it up to you and West, I promise.”
The doctor’s arrival interrupts our tense conversation. “Miss Ross? Your fiancé is out of surgery. You can see him now.”
I want to correct him, tell him I’m a Morelli, but I don’t because right now West is far more important.
My heart leaps into my throat as I rush past Gordon, following the doctor down the hallway.
Footsteps sound against the hard floor as everyone follows behind me.
I glance at my ring and take a deep breath as I enter West’s room with my heart racing.
Maybe this is all too much for him. Perhaps he’ll finally realize my background, and the danger that follows me, is not worth it.
I take a deep but steady breath.
“West,” I whisper.
He looks so pale, so vulnerable lying there amidst a tangle of tubes and wires. I approach the bed and take his hand in mine. “Are you awake?”
His eyes flutter open, focusing on me. A weak smile tugs at his lips. “There’s my princess,” he whispers hoarsely.
My breath catches as tears spring to my eyes. “West, I’m so sorry—”
He squeezes my hand. “Shh. Not your fault. Love you.”
My heart squeezes.
I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I love you too.”
West’s tired gaze drifts around the room, taking in his family. His eyes open slightly. “Mom? Dad? Ari? You’re all here?”
“Of course we are, darling,” Catherine says, her voice thick with emotion.
West nods, then furrows his brow. “Amelia...wedding...we need...lilies of the valley.”
I blink in confusion. “What?”
He turns to his mother. “Mom, remember? Grandma’s favorite...always in the garden. Amelia needs them...for the bouquet.”
Catherine’s eyes fill with tears. “Yes, sweetheart. I remember.”
West continues, his words slightly slurred. “And. A church. Big church. I want all her family there. Let her have anything. She needs that.”
My heart swells. Even in his drugged state, he’s thinking of me, of what I might need. He remembered my dream for a big church wedding when I never believed it would ever happen.
Catherine takes my free hand, squeezing it gently. “We’ll make it happen, dear. Whatever you both want. I’m just so grateful he’s alive.”
“Oh, a church wedding,” Arabella says, turning to me. Her eyes pleading. “Please! Let me be your bridesmaid.”
“How about my maid of honor?”
Arabella squeals.
There’s a smile on West’s face as he drifts off to sleep.
For hours, I sit by West’s bed, holding his hand while he sleeps peacefully. The steady beep of his heart monitor has become a comforting rhythm now that his family has left.
My phone buzzes.
Luca.
I swallow as I hit the answer button.
“He is ready to talk to you,” he says without preamble. “Are you ready?”
I close my eyes, my stomach churning. “I...I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to come here. You don't have to face him, Amelia. We can handle it.”
Part of me wants to see Vincenzo’s face one last time. To ask him everything I need to know.
Why did he kill my parents?
Why did he want to control my life?
And why couldn’t he just let me be happy?
“I need to think about it,” I whisper.
“Take your time. But not too long.”
I end the call and notice Sam standing in the doorway, coffees in his hands. His expression tells me he heard everything.
He walks over, setting a coffee beside me. “You know what my therapist once told me?” His fingers absently rub his wrist. “Sometimes we need to face what hurt us, to make sure it can never hurt us again.”
I study his face, sensing there’s more to his words than he’s letting on. But his eyes hold shadows he’s not ready to share.
“Thank you, Sam.”
I pick up my phone and text Luca.
I want to see him.
His response is immediate.
Romeo and Marco will pick you up. Only them.
“I’ll stay with him.” Sam takes a seat closer to West.
“Thanks.”
I squeeze West’s hand and kiss his forehead before leaving fifteen minutes later.
He doesn’t stir.