17. Dario #3
“We need to make sure it didn’t hit bone and check for internal bleeding.” She eyes the dried blood that’s covering him and adds, “And we need to clean it so you don’t get an infection.”
Standing back up, she looks down at him. The woman is petite, probably late thirties, and I can tell she isn’t thrilled to be handed this job, but she’s also not backing down. “I’m not asking,” she says when he doesn’t budge.
He looks up at her, and I see her take a small step back, but when she doesn’t run for the door, he finally relents and stands. He towers over her, and her self-preservation finally kicks in because she turns to me and asks in Italian, “Am I safe with him?”
“She’s safe, right?” I ask Sasha.
“Yeah, she’s safe.” When he sees my hesitation, he adds, “I’m in control of it now. She’ll be fine.”
I nod, trusting him at his word and then look to the nurse. “You’ll be safe with him. Get him looked at as quickly as possible. He’s going to want to be here when his sister gets out of surgery.”
“I’ll be as fast as I can,” she says and then leaves with Sasha right behind her.
I briefly wonder if letting her go with him was a wise choice, but Sasha’s never lied to me before, and I have too much to fucking worry about without having to add whether or not he’s going to murder a nurse at the hospital.
“She’ll be fine,” Sandro says, trying to make me feel better, but then after a few seconds he adds, “Probably.”
“I only have so much I can worry about at once,” I tell my brother. “That nurse is at the bottom of my fucking list.”
“Agreed,” Sandro says, leaning back in his chair again. “And the odds are in her favor. I mean, how many people can one person kill in a day? Surely he’s hit his quota.”
“One would think,” I say and then brace my elbows on my knees and rest my head in my hands. I can’t stop thinking about Mia, and the terror I feel with each passing minute keeps building until I feel like I’m about to burst.
When the door finally opens and a doctor steps in, I’m on my feet in seconds.
When I meet his eyes, it suddenly occurs to me that maybe I don’t want to know.
I’d rather stay in the hell of waiting if it means there’s still a chance, still a small grain of hope that she might survive.
If I’ve lost her, then I don’t want to know.
“Wait,” I say before the doctor can speak. I look over at Sandro, and he must see the war I’m having with myself because he squeezes my shoulder and takes over, knowing I’m unable to.
“Did she make it?” he asks.
“She did,” the doctor says, and my knees buckle in relief right before my ass hits the chair I’d just been sitting in.
“She’s alive?” I ask, needing to hear it again.
The doctor nods. “She is, Signore Alessi.” I’m so relieved it takes me a second to notice that he still has more to say.
“What?” I ask, as a million different scenarios run through my mind. Was an organ hit? Did she lose too much blood? Is she in a coma? When he hesitates, I say, “For fuck’s sake, Doc, tell me.”
He glances at my brother. “It might be better if we spoke in private.”
“No, my brother stays,” I tell him.
“Your wife sustained a lot of damage.” His tone is soft and his words slow, and I’m two seconds away from grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. “The knife went in deep, and the trauma to her uterus was severe.”
“Just say whatever it is that you’re trying to say,” I tell him, forcing air into my lungs as my heart quietly breaks for the stubborn eighteen-year-old who swears she doesn’t want kids, but should’ve had decades to change her mind.
“She’s going to have severe scarring,” he says. “The likelihood that she’ll ever get pregnant is slim, and if she does manage it, it would be unsafe for her.” He pauses and adds, “Life-threatening, even. I’m very sorry.”
“When can I see her?” I ask, refusing to fall apart in front of this man.
“She’s being brought into a post-op room now. It’ll be another couple of hours before she wakes from surgery, but I’ll have one of the nurses bring you to her.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I tell him, reaching out to shake the hand of the man who saved Mia’s life. It’s such a small gesture, two simple words to show an intense gratitude that can never be adequately expressed.
The doctor nods. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” he says before leaving the room.
Before the door’s even shut, Sandro wraps me in a tight hug. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says.
“She’s alive. That’s all that matters,” I tell him, and I mean it.
I don’t love her any less because of what’s happened, and it doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.
I’m terrified it’ll change how she feels about me, though.
She sacrificed something precious to save me, and it’s not something I can ever fix or give back to her.
“I don’t know what I’ll do if she hates me for it,” I whisper, confessing the fear that’s slowly eating away at me.
“She won’t,” Sandro says. “She loves you too much for that, Dario. Don’t start doubting her now.”
He’s right, and I feel a sharp twinge of guilt after he says it.
“Fuck, she’s turned me into a giant pussy,” I say, wiping at my eyes and taking a shaky breath.
Sandro squeezes my shoulder. “I wasn’t going to mention it, but she absolutely has.”
I can only manage a soft laugh, but he smiles when he hears it. “You two will get through this, brother.”
“Thanks, Sandro.”
When the nurse comes in to get me, I give my brother one more hug before following her out. I don’t know how in the hell I would’ve gotten through the last few hours without him.
Staying near the nurse, I follow her down the maze of hallways until she stops in front of one of the large private rooms that’s worth every penny it’s going to cost me if it means I get immediate, unlimited access to Mia.
The perks of being part of a powerful family have never been more evident or beneficial than right now, and I’m incredibly grateful for it.
I step into the dim room after the nurse, and a pained groan leaves my throat when I see Mia’s unconscious body lying in the hospital bed.
She’s attached to machines, all of them quietly beeping, and there’s a nasal cannula hooked into her nose, the thin tubes running across her cheeks and hooking behind her ears.
The pink highlights in her hair stand out against her pale skin and the white of the pillowcase, and when I take her hand in mine, there’s no response.
The nurse is quiet as she checks Mia’s vitals. When she’s done, she scoots a chair over for me and says, “If you need anything, press this button and a nurse will come in. She might sleep for another hour or two before she wakes, but she’s going to be fine, Signore Alessi.”
Pulling the blanket further up Mia’s chest, she earns my gratitude when she takes the extra time to ensure the woman I love will be as comfortable as possible when she wakes.
“We were able to put surgical tape over her piercings so she could keep them like you requested,” she tells me while she checks the blood pressure cuff on Mia’s arm.
“Thank you,” I tell her. Leaning closer, I brush a strand of hair from my girl’s forehead and kiss the lips that are as pale as her skin.
“ Ti amo, ” I whisper against her mouth. “I’m right here, amore. I’m not leaving your side.”
The nurse makes a quiet exit, leaving me alone in a dark room while machines beep and I hold the small hand that belongs to the one person in this world that I cannot live without.
Unable to resist, I pull the blanket down, letting out a pained groan when I see all the bandages wrapped around her stomach.
“Fuck, baby, I can’t believe you jumped in front of that knife.” I shake my head, feeling the familiar tightness hit the back of my throat when I think about what she lost by saving me.
Pulling the sheet back up, I cup her hand in mine and kiss the back of it, and then I let go, sobbing like I never have in my life.
All the fear I’d felt at losing her, the very idea of having to face this world without her, to never feel her body against mine, never hear the sweet sound of her voice when she yells my name in anger or in pleasure—I let it all out, and then I cry for the children we’ll never have.
I allow myself this one moment, this one time to feel the anguish of never being called dad by anyone, of never holding a baby that she and I made, and of never knowing the joy of raising a child together.
I feel every part of that pain, and then I let it go, because I’ll be damned if I ever let Mia see even a glimpse of this hurt. I will not let her carry this.
I choose her, over and over again, I choose her.
My throat is raw, my eyes swollen, and my heart still feels like someone’s stepped on it, but by the time Sasha walks in, I’ve gotten myself under control.
I look over, relieved to see that he’s no longer drenched in blood.
The nurse must’ve made him shower, and she’s also bandaged his arm and made him wear a sling.
“How’s the arm?” I ask. My voice sounds hoarse, like I’ve been yelling for hours, but he doesn’t comment on it. He steps closer to the bed and pulls the covers down enough so he can see where the knife went in. He’s quiet while he tucks the blanket back up and around his sister.
“Did they have to do a hysterectomy?”
I’m not surprised that he asked. I swear Sasha knows enough anatomy to be a doctor at this point.
“No, but the damage was severe. If she ever did manage to get pregnant, it would be too dangerous to keep it,” I say, knowing with absolute certainty that I will never allow that to happen. I will never put her through that kind of pain. Mia will never get pregnant. I’ll make damn sure of that.
Sasha sits on the edge of her bed, taking her hand in his.
He’s careful of the IV that’s attached to the back of her hand.
His movements far more gentle than I would ever expect from him.
The last image I’d had of Sasha at the house was of him brutally stabbing a man’s chest, and now he’s gently caressing his sister’s hand.
My brain is having a hard time with the dichotomy, and eventually I just give up trying.
He is what he is. There’s no point in trying to make sense of him.
“She never wanted kids,” Sasha says, “but not wanting them and having the choice taken from you are two very different things.” He looks over at me when he says, “She’ll pretend she doesn’t care. Don’t let her get away with it. It’ll eat her up if she tries to hold it all in.”
“I won’t let her,” I promise him. With a sigh, I kiss her hand again and then ask, “Do you think your dad will at least hear me out before he tries to kill me? I’d like to avoid any more bloodshed today if at all possible.”
“Fear and worry are what’s driving him now. Rage will eventually take its place, but no matter how much he hates you right now, he loves her more. He would never do anything that would cause her pain. My dad’s not capable of hurting his family.”
“He’s a good man,” I agree. “I’m hoping he’ll eventually accept me as a son-in-law.”
“He will,” Sasha says, and then he gives me a hint of a grin. “I don’t envy Dominic for the nine-hour flight he has with him, though.”
“God, no,” I agree. “He’ll keep himself in check for your mom’s sake, but I know they both must be worried sick right now. They trusted us to keep you both safe, and now their daughter is in the hospital and their son’s been shot. I’m not earning any brownie points here.”
“It wasn’t your fault, and my arm’s fine. Bullet went straight through and missed everything important.” He looks over at me. “What about her piercings?”
“I told them to keep them in.”
“Good. She would’ve been so pissed if she had to go through that again. It’s a detail you can leave out when talking to our parents.”
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on telling them. Your dad would definitely pull a gun on me if I start talking about his daughter’s body piercings.”
As I talk to Sasha, I keep my focus on Mia, watching to make sure her chest keeps rising and falling, checking that the machines are still beeping as they should, while I caress the hand I’m still holding.
It feels like a lifetime before I feel her fingers twitch in mine.
“Mia?” I ask, lifting from the chair so I can lean in and kiss her face. “Come back to me, amore ,” I whisper against her skin. “I don’t do so great without you, little viper. Please, come back to me.”
She moans and whispers my name, but even though it’s barely more than a breath of a sound, it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
“I’m here, amore . I’m right here,” I tell her, kissing her cheek and hugging her as tightly as I dare. I cup the back of her head and rest my forehead against hers. “Do not ever scare me like that again, piccola vipera .”
“Did he hurt you?” she whispers, blinking her eyes open, trying to make sense of what’s going on.
“No, baby, I’m fine,” I tell her.
She lets out a sigh of relief, but then a new fear hits her when she whispers, “Sasha?”
“I’m right here,” he quickly tells her, squeezing her other hand and smiling down at her when I pull my head back so she can see him. “You did good, little witch. Damn good.”
Mia gives a long blink, still groggy and fighting to stay conscious. “He stabbed me,” she groans, and then adds, “Bastard.”
“You killed him for it,” Sasha tells her. He reaches up and squeezes her shoulder, waiting for her to meet his eyes before he says, “I told you that you’d be able to kill when it mattered, little witch.”
She gives him a small smile, and then turns her eyes to mine. “You really didn’t get hurt?”
“No, I didn’t because some tiny, fearless woman jumped in front of me and saved my life.” I run my finger along her jaw, hating how pale she still is. “We’re going to be having a conversation about that when you’re feeling better,” I warn her.
“Something to look forward to,” she whispers.
I can’t help but grin at her tone and say, “There’s my little viper. ”
“I’m going to find Sandro and tell him you’re okay,” Sasha says, and I know he’s leaving to give us privacy.
“Mom and dad will be here in a few hours.” He leans down and kisses her forehead.
He tells her something in Russian that makes her smile and squeeze his hand before he walks out, leaving us alone.
I look at Mia, running my eyes over the woman who owns every single part of me. I have no idea how her dad is going to take the news of us, but I do know he’s going to have to kill me to get me to leave Mia alone.
As long as I’m breathing, she’s mine.