29. Teo
29
TEO
I watch in complete disbelief as Ida Natali falls to the ground.
In the periphery, I’m aware that Leon grabbed hold of Cas and pulled her away to safety.
But all I can do is stare at the choking body on the ground. She’s choking on her own lifeblood as it spills from her neck.
For so long. I’ve wanted her dead for so long. I wanted to feel the life leave her body as I strangled her with my bare hands. I wanted to scream at her as she choked on her final breaths and feel the jubilation of my final act of revenge.
Now, she just lies there, dying like anyone else would.
There’s no fanfare. No righteous relief flows over me. The pain of my sister's loss, dull and constant in the deepest part of myself, remains. It continues to throb, as it always has, in time with my heartbeat.
As the light leaves Ida Natali’s eyes, I feel nothing at all. No different, no change.
The only thing that I care about is the woman at my side. She’s warm and alive and clinging to me as if she has no intention of letting me go.
But she needs to. She’s already half retching at the sight.
“ Belle, it’s okay. You can let go. I’m still here,” I console her as I pry her hands from what remains of my shirt.
She hesitates for a second before stumbling forward.
Not to her mother, as I’d expected.
No, Ida Natali’s body remains lifeless and undisturbed as Isabella rushes for her brother.
Leon has just enough time to lower Cas gently to the ground before Isabella has her arms around him.
“Leon! Leon- You…you…”
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” His hands grab her back, letting her cling to him.
“Oh God…Leon.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She pulls away abruptly. “No. Don’t you dare. I’m sorry. I got us into this mess. It’s my fault. You just…you did it. You killed her.”
“She would have killed you.” His voice is stony, cold, unwavering, and entirely ruthless.
I daresay, looking at him now, that there’s something missing from him. Something has fundamentally changed about the brutish leader of the Prince’s Hand.
But I don’t ponder it. I leave the Natali siblings to their reconciliation and stagger back to where I left Rocco.
He hasn’t moved, but luckily, his eyes follow me as I approach.
“You bastard, you left me behind,” he groans.
I want to roll my eyes at him as I help him up. “You were slowing me down, as always.”
Rocco yelps as I yank him to his feet. “You gotta give me the chance to save your life sometime. This is getting embarrassing.”
“Yeah, well?—”
“Rocco?”
We turn in sync to the sound of Cassandra’s approach.
I can barely get out of the way fast enough before she’s throwing herself at her husband. My cheeks ache as I smile at the sight of them. Their love for each other has a warming effect on everything around them.
I take joy in Rocco’s relief and Cassandra’s gratitude. But I can only watch them for a moment before it feels like I’m intruding on something immensely private.
Around us, the smoke of the house begins to die down along with the flames. All that happened couldn’t have lasted much more than five minutes, yet time seemed to stretch impossibly as it happened.
Only now do I begin to hear the sirens that will no doubt force us all to flee.
I turn back to Isabella and Leon. Both are still locked in a serious embrace, whispering to each other desperately. I try to make my approach slow and loud to give them some time, but the truth is, we’re running short on it.
“We need to go,” I say quietly.
Matching chocolate eyes snap to my face.
Leon apprehensively looks me over. “You need a hospital.”
“Perhaps you should worry about your own mess,” I snap back instinctively, gesturing to the body that lies between us.
“Teo,” Isabella hisses.
I ignore her. “He started this fire. As much as I appreciate you saving my friend, this doesn’t mean you and I are square.”
Leon untangles himself from Isabella to draw himself up to his full height. “I didn’t do it for you.”
“We have something in common that we care about.” I match his stare carefully. “Something that we both love.”
I try very hard not to acknowledge Isabella stiffening at his arm.
“It appears so.” His words come out as a growl.
“I propose a truce. Until such a time that we are both in a position to sit down and discuss the matter at hand more formally,” I say evenly.
He glares at me for a beat.
“Fine. But for the record,” he looks back at Isabella, gesturing between us. “I don’t like this.”
“I can’t remember asking for your opinion,” she snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You’re going with him, aren’t you?”
Isabella glances over at me, worry already gnawing at her bottom lip. “Yes. He needs a hospital?—”
“I don’t need a hospital?—”
“So someone needs to make sure he actually goes to one,” she finishes, entirely ignoring my interruption.
Leon gives me one more glare before throwing out his hand. “Send word when you’ve recovered.”
It’s not a question. In fact, it sounds more like a demand, but I reach out to take his hand anyway. “I won’t keep you waiting.”
“Look after her.” He nearly crunches all the bones in my hand as we shake.
I don’t give him the satisfaction of a wince. “I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”
“Guys? GUYS!”
We separate at the sound of Rocco’s panicked voice behind us.
“The baby’s coming!”
I slump back in the ambulance stretcher, barely aware of the paramedic patching up my thigh and taking my vitals. I look over to where Rocco’s lying beside me, his face pale, an oxygen mask strapped over his nose and mouth, his eyes half-open but dazed.
We’ve both been running on pure adrenaline. Which meant neither of us had any fight in us when the ambulance came. That doesn’t mean either of us wants to be here.
Rocco is likely tearing himself apart. Cas went with Isabella in the other ambulance. But she’d inhaled so much smoke. Her body had gone through so much stress. If she’s gone into labor…
I sit up, pushing against the medic who’s trying to keep me down. “I don’t need this,” I growl, looking over at Rocco, who’s fighting his own battle with the attendants trying to strap him down. “We need to stay with them. We need to?—”
The paramedic shakes his head, his grip firm as he pushes me back. “You’re going to the hospital. No arguments.”
I glance at Rocco, and we share a look. Exhausted, burned, but united in the same thought: we don’t care about ourselves. Right now, all that matters is Cas and the baby.
The ambulance doors swing open, and we’re unloaded, wheeled through blindingly white corridors, fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows over our bruised, soot-streaked faces.
I think I see Cas being rushed ahead, doctors surrounding her as they move her quickly down another hallway, their voices rapid and tense as they discuss her breathing, the baby’s heart rate, her contractions.
My hands clench, and I catch Rocco’s eye again as they wheel him in beside me. He looks like he’s on the verge of getting up and running after her, restraints or no restraints. I’d do the same if they didn’t have me pinned.
A nurse tries to put an oxygen mask on me again, but I shove it aside. “It’s my best friend’s wife,” I say, my voice low and rough. “She’s in labor, and we don’t know if the baby will be okay. Just let us?—”
“We need to treat you,” the nurse says firmly, her face giving nothing away. “There could be damage to your lungs, and if you don’t cooperate, you’ll only exacerbate your injuries.”
I bite back a retort, nodding stiffly. There’s no arguing with her. I let them clean the cuts on my face and bandage my arm, the sting barely registering over the sick worry twisting through my gut.
Every second feels like an hour, every breath dragging me down into a darker, colder place.
Rocco barely tolerates his treatment,, his face a mask of terror as he keeps looking toward the door, straining to hear any sound that might come from Cas’ direction.
“She was already in pain before the fire,” he mutters to me, his voice breaking. “I don’t know if she can…if they’ll be okay.”
I want to tell him they’ll be fine, that Cas is strong, that the baby’s tougher than we know, but the words feel hollow. Instead, I reach over and grip his shoulder, holding him in place, grounding us both as we wait in grim silence.
Finally, after what feels like hours, they release us, their instructions blurring together as I stagger to my feet. Rocco’s beside me, equally unsteady, his face pale but set in grim determination.
The nurse leads us through another set of hallways, and it feels like every step takes an eternity. Rocco walks beside me, the tension rolling off him in waves. I can see his hands shaking, his jaw clenched tight, barely holding himself together.
I don’t think either of us breathes until we reach the door at the end of the hall, and the nurse gestures for us to go in.
Inside, Cas is lying in a hospital bed, her face exhausted but peaceful, a glow of relief in her eyes. She looks up at us as we enter, a tired smile spreading across her face.
And beside her, holding a tiny bundle wrapped in a pale blue blanket, is Isabella.
Her face lights up the second she sees us, her eyes softening, and she looks down at the baby, then back to us.
“Rocco,” Cas whispers, her voice barely more than a breath, but it’s enough.
Rocco crosses the room in an instant, reaching her bedside and taking her hand like he’s reassuring himself that she’s really there.
The baby stirs in Isabella’s arms, making a faint little sound that fills the room like the most fragile, beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
Isabella steps closer to Rocco, lifting her bundle carefully so we can see his tiny face.
“You have a son,” she says softly, her voice warm and steady as she hands the baby to Rocco.
He takes his son like he’s handling the most precious thing in the world. His eyes shimmer as he looks down at the baby, and a soft laugh escapes him.
Cas reaches up, running her fingers along her son’s cheek, her eyes filling with tears.
“You both made it,” he murmurs like he can’t quite believe it. “You’re both here.”
I take a step back, watching them, letting them have this moment, but I feel a warmth I can’t describe growing in my chest. I turn to Isabella, and our eyes meet.
She’s watching me, her expression unreadable but soft, and there’s a calm in her gaze that I haven’t seen before. With a gentle nod of her head, she indicates the door.
I follow her out into the hallway, leaving the Morettis to their joy.
“It was touch and go for a while there,” Isabella says once the door closes behind us. “For a moment, they thought they might lose at least one of them.”
“But you stayed.”
She holds up her hand proudly, the telltale bruises already beginning to form along the back of it. “Couldn’t leave her if I tried. That woman is stronger than she looks.”
I smile at her as I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it softly. “Thank you.”
“Did you mean it?” she says suddenly. “What you said to my brother. Did you mean it?”
I don’t need her to tell me which part she’s referring to. The wariness in her eyes says it all.
And really, there’s no point denying it. Not anymore.
“Yes,” I pull her in closer so I can whisper in her ear. “I think I loved you from the moment you crashed the wedding.”
I can see the flush rising to her cheeks. “You just liked that I was on my knees.”
“I still loved you, though.” I weave my hand through her soft hair. “I likely always will.”
“Is that a promise?”
“One I will gladly make every day for the rest of my measly existence.”
And because she can, she kisses me.
And because I love her, I kiss her back.