56
Cade
The world drifts back in pieces—low beeps, pain dull and insistent, antiseptic air sharp enough to choke. And warmth. Something warmer. Familiar.
Luciana.
My eyes feel welded shut, my throat like sandpaper. But through the haze, I feel her—fingers threaded through mine, anchoring me, pulling me back.
Memories surface like ghosts: Scar’s eyes, dull with a betrayal that had twisted into something darker. Saint’s cold precision. Luna, her face streaked with tears, my blood on her hands as she begged me not to leave.
The effort to open my eyes nearly drags me under again, but I push through it. I have to see her. The room swims into focus—monitors, IV stands, fluorescent light casting sterile shadows.
And there she is, slumped forward in a chair by my bed, her hand clutching mine even in sleep. Her temple rests against our linked hands, her lips slightly parted. She’s snoring softly, the dark smudges under her eyes a silent testament to how long she’s been here.
Her other arm is in a bandage. Fuck. My chest tightens with guilt.
I fatally misjudged Scar. I saw his derangement as dissatisfaction, his obsession as loyalty, his vindictive fury as something righteous. I thought I’d shaped him into me—didn’t realize he was mutating into something worse.
Slowly, carefully, I slip my hand from hers, reaching out to touch her. My arm trembles, muscles slow and uncooperative, but I don’t stop. I need to feel her, to make sure she’s real. My fingers brush her cheek, then skim over her chapped, pouty lips.
The monitors betray me first, the beeps picking up as my pulse spikes. Can’t even touch her without these damn machines giving me away.
Her eyes flutter open, no doubt at the haphazard beeps. For a moment, she stares at me, her brows furrowing in confusion before the realization dawns.
“Cade,” she whispers—just my name. It’s heavy with days’ worth of fear, longing, and hope.
“Here, baby.” My throat feels like gravel.
She rises and leans over me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear, her hands hovering before finally landing. Her fingers tremble as they trace my brows, my nose, and the angle of my thickly stubbled jaw. “I thought—” Her voice catches. “They said your heart stopped. Twice.”
I want to pull her close and erase that haunted look from her eyes, but my arms feel weighted with lead. All I can do is lean into her touch. “I wasn’t going to leave you, Luciana.”
A t ear slides down her cheek. Then another. I finally manage to lift my hand to catch them, the movement sending fresh pain through my side. Worth it, to feel her lean into my touch.
“Doctors say it’s been three days since . . .” I trail off when I see understanding dawn on her face.
“Yeah. The longest in my entire life.”
“I’m so fucking sorry I let him get near you.”
“God, Cade.” Her voice breaks on my name. She carefully presses her forehead to mine. “I wanted to go there, remember? I wanted you to make love to me in front of that fireplace.” Her cheeks flush. “Only, I should have listened that morning in the kitchen.”
“It was going to happen sooner or later. He always wanted more.”
A shudder wracks her frame. “You saved me with your dying breath, Caden. And then you fought your way back to me. I . . . I can never thank you enough for that.”
Her words reach the deepest, darkest parts of me, healing wounds that aren’t physical. A twenty-two-year-old wound. I close my eyes, letting her voice wash over me.
“You asked one thing of me,” she says, pulling back to meet my eyes. “To give up my fear. Well, I did more than that. I faced it.”
The implication crashes over me, and I take a deep breath against the knot of pain. Luna has had to be so strong her entire life, she struggles to be completely vulnerable. Her stoic strength is one of the reasons I fell for her, but it’s a fucking pain in the neck too.
“So you got tested.”
“I did.”
“And I suppose you want to get married? Because, what, suddenly you feel worthy of my love?”
She rears back, spine stiffening. “No. I want to marry because the last three days showed me the one thing I can’t live without: you. I want to be bound to you. I thought you wanted the same thing.”
I take a steadying breath and push through a ravaged throat. “What I wanted was your trust, not your courage—you’ve got enough of that to last a lifetime. I need you to let me love you through every moment, better or worse.”
Her eyes flash with that familiar fire. “This wasn’t about you or us at all. It was my decision. Something I had to do on my own.”
I inhale sharply, steadying my fraying temper. “In that case, you wouldn’t mind if we held off getting married so I can focus on the Reaper Druids, would you?”
For a second, I think she’ll relent, but then she snaps, “No, of course not. Take your time.”
The air crackles with tension. My feigned indifference is starting to slip, but I refuse to let her see it.
“So what does this mean for us?” she bites out.
I try to shrug, immediately regretting it as pain lances through my shoulder. Still, I manage a flippant response. “We’ll still love and annoy the hell out of each other. You can visit me in Harmony when you have time. I’ll do the same for you in Chicago. We’ll make it work.”
Her pursed silence holds for all of two seconds, and then she sputters. “You can’t be serious!”
The damn monitors are starting to broadcast the frustration I’m trying to bury. Christ, I can’t even fight properly in this state. “Baby. It’s been an intense couple of weeks. We could do with a breather.” Then, I deliberately change the subject. “Now, where’s St Michael?”
She stares at me, stunned. Then the disbelief bleeds into fury, and she snaps. “You’re an ass, Cade Quinn.” Before I can respond, she reaches over the side of the bed and grabs an envelope.
“I was waiting to give this to you.” She tosses the envelope onto my chest like it burns her fingers. Without another word, she storms to the door. “I’ll let the rest of our family in. Try not to make them want to wring your neck, too.”
Something about the way she says family squeezes at my chest.
I don’t get the chance to examine the sealed envelope before the door opens.
Sophie enters first, and her sharp intake of breath cuts off any smart remark. “Jesus, Cade.” Tears spring to her eyes and her voice wavers despite her best attempt at composure. She rushes to my side.
Nico follows, then Dante. Their eyes take in everything with that precise Vitelli assessment, moving with the careful grace of men used to death but not comfortable seeing it touch family.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again, Cade,” Sophie manages, clutching at my hand.
I try to give her a reassuring smile, but my attention is drawn to Luna like gravity. She’s at the window now, arms wrapped tight around herself, staring out but seeing nothing.
Even angry, even across the room, she pulls at something in my soul. Her thick, dark hair falls over her shoulder, catching the morning light. She’s wearing just jeans and a T-shirt, but it doesn’t matter. It’s how she holds herself—rigid with irritation, while every line of her body begs for me.
Nico’s talking security protocols, then says something about Saint being evaluated. He mentions Phoenix and the others, waitin g outside because of critical care restrictions. All his words fade to background noise.
“Do you have to be so fucking stubborn?” The words escape before I can stop them.
The room falls silent. Nico and Dante exchange a look while Sophie’s gaze flits between Luna and me.
Luna takes a moment, seemingly steeling herself, then turns away from the window to face me.
And everything else disappears.
Her eyes flash, chin lifting in that defiant angle that never fails to make me hard, but there’s a slight tremor in her voice when she says, “Do you have to lose your shit when I don’t do as you say?”
My fingers find the envelope on my chest. I lift it. “Tell me something.” I hold up the envelope, my voice low, steady. “Why is this still sealed?”
Her teeth sink into her lip, but the fight drains from her eyes. She whispers, her voice trembling. “Because I couldn’t face it without you.”
Her words hit like a wrecking ball through every defense I thought I had. “Christ. Come here, baby.”
She moves before my words are fully out—like she’s been waiting for them. When she throws herself across my chest, I hold in a grunt of pain and release a sigh of relief.
This was the hell I faced as I bled out on that cold kitchen floor. Never holding this woman again. My arm finally cooperates as I wrap it around her, pulling her even closer.
“Fine, Caden, do it then,” she whispers against my neck. “Love me the way you want.”
A chuckle escapes me, broken by everything I feel as I press my lips to her hair. “I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.”
Dan te approaches, breaking the moment. “Here.” He places a single white lily on the bedside. “It’s from my wife. She even wrote you a love note, too, jackass, but I draw the line at reading it to you.” Dante then holds a card up about a foot from my face.
The words are blurry, but since Dante isn’t about to bring it any closer, I squint to make out the words.
This is redemption, Cade Quinn. Try not to re-entangled in religion.
Luna looks between me and the note, catching my shock, her own eyes wide with surprise.
Addy must have worked out who I was. She’s a forensic analyst after all, and obsessed with serial murders. And trust Addy to say more with one flower than most people manage in a lifetime of words.
I give Dante a curt nod. “Tell her I understand.”
“Good. And that’s our cue to fuck off.” Dante nods at the envelope tangled between Luna and me. “We’ll let you two open your little present.”
Luna doesn’t even look up; she just crumples the envelope and launches it in the general direction of the bin. “I don’t even want to look at that thing anymore.”
Dante stills. “Excuse me?”
Luna’s fingers slip into my hair, her lips stroking over the pulse point in my neck. “I don’t care about the results. I got tested for you, Cade. I was . . . well, too proud to admit it earlier.”
My free hand finds her face, tilting it up so I can look into her eyes—clear, fierce, and so full of love I’m drowning in it.
My lips pull into a smile. “Well, shit. If it isn’t my little princess finally learning how to trust.”
She huffs out a shaky laugh. “I had to. You’re not exactly gentle with your lessons, Tarzan.”
I b ring her face to mine, until we’re nose to nose, and just breathe her in.
Dante clears his throat. “ Sorellina, you and Quinn might be caught in your wonderful bubble, but Nico and me, we’re gonna need to know about that genetics report.”
Luna hesitates a beat, then with a careless flick of her wrist, says, “Go ahead.”
My brows arch in surprise at how much she already trusts the Vitellis.
Dante bends to retrieve the crumpled envelope and tears it open, the sound unnaturally loud as the rest seem to hold their breath.
I watch Dante’s face as he reads, then passes the report to Nico whose expression might as well be carved from stone. And then they turn to leave—classic Vitelli, handling shit quietly.
“Wait. Hold on.” Luna whirls back. “You’re not going to say anything?”
“Not if you don’t want to know,” Dante shrugs.
Luna hesitates for a heartbeat. “Fine. Just say it.”
Dante sighs watching my face like a hawk as he announces. “I’m sorry . It’s positive.”
The word lands like a final piece clicking into place. Sophie gasps. Luna freezes, then settles against my neck, hot tears soaking through the thin hospital gown.
I just feel . . . so much more attuned to Luna’s emotions. Disappointment. Regret. Guilt
“I’m sorry, Cade.” Her fingers dig into my side, and I feel her steel herself against whatever reaction she expects from me.
“Baby. Look at me,” I whisper.
Her eyes are brimming with tears but steady. This is the woman who stood her ground against me, against Nico, against her fa ther. The one who broke Scar. Capo of the Romano family. She’ll fucking face this too.
“You’re perfect, and you’re mine. Marry me.”
“Oh, Caden!” She kisses me then, deep and slow and it’s like a match to gasoline. Her tongue slides against mine, and despite the pain and meds, my body responds as always. Cock hardening into steel, heart racing, the room tilting on its axis. So fucking worth the wave of dizziness that follows when she draws back, dark eyes boring into mine. Telling me without words she desperately wants to be mine.
“That can’t be normal, Nico,” Sophie mutters, gawking slack-jawed at crazily beeping monitor screens, but I barely hear her. I’m too focused on the flush spreading down Luna’s neck, the way her pupils have dilated. Even half-dead, we set each other on fire.
“Get out,” I snap.
They don’t wait to be told again. When the door closes behind them, silence settles over us. Just the beating of my heart, gradually slowing to match Luna’s ragged breaths against me.
“I’ve got LS, Cade,” she whispers as a shudder runs through her.
I tighten my hold, ignoring the protest from my wounds. “I know.”
“I’ll need surgeries. And kids are off the table and—”
“I asked you a question.”
Luna blinks, and for a moment I see that old fear melt away, replaced by that fierce determination I fell in love with taking over.
“I recall an order, not a question, but, fuck yes, I will.” she breathes.
Joy surges through me, so intense it’s almost painful. I brush my thumb across her cheek. “Are you scared?”
She shifts carefully beside me, mindful of the tubes but needing to be closer. “I’ve faced worse with you, Caden Michael Quinn. If you’re with me, I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Good girl.” The rumbled words of praise earn me a brutal eye roll, but I don’t miss the color staining her cheeks. My lips find hers again, gentler this time but no less devastating. Finally, she settles against me, finding that spot on my chest that doesn’t make me wince.
“You’re already mine to love. Mine to protect, baby. The rest is just paperwork.”
And I know I’d go through hell again for this bold woman who turned the course of revenge and destruction into one of trust and devotion.