Chapter 43 Alina
ALINA
Just as I am about to reach Marco, a hand comes out and grabs me.
It's Gio.
"Let me go!" I yell, trying to free myself from his iron grip. "Marco! I need to—"
"You need to let them take him," Gio says, his voice firm but gentle. "The medics are his best option."
My entire body shuts down as I watch the paramedics wheel Marco away. His body is limp, his face so pale, and blood seeps through the hastily applied bandages on his chest. I can't tear my eyes away from the spreading stain.
"Marco," I whisper, my voice cracking. "Please, don't leave me," I say as they pass with him.
Gio's hand on my arm is the only thing keeping me upright as I focus on Marco disappearing into the ambulance.
"Let me go with him," I plead, trying to pull myself free from Gio's grip. "I need to be with him!"
"Alina, stop," Gio says, his voice low and firm in my ear. "You can't help him now. Let them work. I'll drive you."
"I'm not leaving him—"
"Alina, you're barefoot and in shock. Let me take you."
I want to scream at him, to claw his eyes out for keeping me from Marco. But deep down, I know he's right. What could I do? Hold his hand while he bleeds out? The thought makes me sick.
The ambulance doors slam shut, and the siren screams to life. I watch it pull away in utter disbelief.
"He can't die, Gio," I sob, my knees finally giving out. Gio catches me before I hit the ground.
"He can't..."
My words dissolve into incoherent sobs. I cling to Gio's shirt, burying my face against his chest.
"Breathe, Alina. Just breathe," Gio says, his hand awkwardly patting my back. "Let's go."
As Gio walks to his car, Enzo and Livia approach. Livia is in tears and runs to hug me.
"I should have been here," I choke out. "If I'd been here, maybe..."
"You could have been hurt too. He wouldn't want that," Livia cuts me off, hugging me tightly. "You know he wouldn't."
"What do we do now?" I ask, my voice small and broken.
Enzo looks down at me. "We go to the hospital. We wait. And if you pray, now's a good time."
As we drive, the lights blur together, and I'm unable to focus. I feel so numb, like I'm detached from myself.
Gio's hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and I can see the worry in his eyes. Neither of us knows what to say.
He catches me looking at him.
"Marco's strong. He'll make it," he says, but I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. "He'll pull through all right."
I nod, crying. "I never got to tell him..." The words slip out before I can stop them.
"Tell him what?" Gio asks, looking at me.
My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, resting there for a moment before I catch myself. I open my mouth, but no words come out. How can I tell Gio when I couldn't even tell Marco?
"Alina," Gio presses gently. "Tell him what?"
I shake my head, tears blurring my vision again. "I can't," I choke out. "I can't say it. Not until, not until I know he's okay."
Gio's eyes meet mine, and I see understanding dawn in them. His gaze drops to my stomach, then back to my face.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters under his breath. We pull into the hospital, and I'm out of the car before Gio cuts the engine.
The fluorescent lights of the hospital burn my eyes as we rush through the sliding doors. The sharp smell of antiseptic fills my nose. I move past other people in various states of distress and make my way toward the emergency waiting area.
We reach the waiting room, and Gio tells me to sit.
"I assume you're not going to leave until we know," Gio says, removing his jacket.
I shake my head, my hands clutching his jacket as he drapes it over my shoulders.
"No, I can't. I won't leave him."
Gio nods, his jaw clenched. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the sound of hurried footsteps cuts him off.
Enzo and Livia burst into the waiting room, followed by a group of men I vaguely recognize from campaign events. Livia's eyes lock onto mine, and in an instant, she's by my side, wrapping me in a firm, sisterly hug.
"Oh, Alina," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "He'll be fine," she says, stroking my hair.
Over Livia's shoulder, I watch as Enzo, Gio, and the other men huddle in a corner.
Their voices are low, but I can tell they're mad, with Enzo pointing and giving orders.
I don't care to try and hear them—all I can think about is Marco, lying somewhere in this sterile maze of corridors, fighting for his life.
The emergency doors open, and a doctor comes out.
"Are you the family of Marco Bonventi?" the doctor asks, his eyes scanning the room.
Enzo steps forward. "I'm his brother. How is he?"
The doctor's face turns serious, and I feel my world tilt on its axis. "We've had to place Mr. Bonventi in an induced coma. He sustained multiple gunshot wounds to the chest and abdomen. We're doing everything we can, but I need to be honest—his condition is critical."
"Jesus fucking Christ," Enzo says, running his hand over his forehead. Livia reaches out and grabs his arm, squeezing it.
"What are his chances?" Gio demands, his voice hard.
The doctor hesitates, and in his pause, I feel hope being ripped out of my chest. "It's too early to say for certain.
The next few hours will be crucial. We're working to repair the damage and stop the internal bleeding, but you should prepare yourselves for the possibility that he might not make it through the night. "
The room spins, and suddenly I can't breathe. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision as I gasp for air. I'm vaguely aware of voices calling my name, of hands grabbing me as I fall over.
As the darkness closes in, all I can think is, I'll never get to tell him he's going to be a father.