Chapter 23
Elowen
Today also passed without a sight of him. It’s been a day and a half since he last came in front of me.
The sound of the food cart makes me turn. Nivi has arrived with my dinner. She’s been bringing my meals and cleaning Bruno’s room since yesterday—and I don’t miss the ugly, satisfied looks she gives me.
She sets the food on the small table by the couch.
“There’s a rumor,” she chirps. “Master was about to kill you, but Antonio saved you.”
I purse my lips. “The rumor is wrong.”
She scoffs. “I don’t think so. Everyone can see Master doesn’t even want to look at you anymore. This is karma.”
I raise a brow but decide not to waste my energy on her. She glances at my food, then at me with hatred, and leaves.
I pick up a plate of sfogliatella, break off a piece, and bite into it. It’s sweet and nutty.
I frown.
Anything nutty raises my guard. But I know the kitchen here doesn’t use them. I remember the day he called the cooks into the dining room and asked them about it in front of me.
A smile finds its way to my lips. How cold he was with me then—and how quickly that changed.
The smile slips away. The change back came just as fast. Now things are even worse than they were at the start.
I finish the two sfogliatella in a foul mood, then reach for the plate of alfredo. But then I feel it—an itch inside my mouth that spreads rapidly.
I set the plate down. My lips feel warm. Within moments, my throat tightens.
Nuts. And with how fast the symptoms are hitting, I must have consumed a lot.
I get up from the couch. My body starts shaking with anxiety and fear.
Bruno rushes to me. He sniffs me frantically. I claw at my throat—swallowing is already impossible. Coughing, heaving, I stumble out of Bruno’s room. He follows.
I make my way toward his room. God, let there be epinephrine in his first aid kit.
Dizziness engulfs me. I try to breathe through my mouth. It’s not working.
Salvario
Bruno’s loud barks snap Antonio’s and my attention toward the door. The next second, he bursts into the dining room, running straight for me.
He claws at my thigh desperately.
I’m on my feet in an instant. He bolts toward the door, then back to me.
Bruno is panicking. That means only one thing.
I sprint after him upstairs. Antonio follows. My heart is already in my throat at the thought of something happening to her.
We race into my wing.
She’s lying on the floor.
My mind goes blank, but my body moves on instinct. I rush to her and turn her over. Her face is white as paper. She’s struggling to breathe.
“Epin—epine—phri…” she rasps.
Antonio reaches the hallway.
I shout, “There’s a red box in the third drawer of the left cabinet in my study. Bring it here!”
He nods and rushes into the study.
I snap my attention back to her. Her eyes are wide, unseeing. She’s clutching my shirt, heaving.
Fear ravages me from the inside. The scene starts overlapping with the memory from twenty-five years ago.
I shove it down.
She won’t die. Everything is under control. I tell myself. I have her medicine.
I scoop her up and rush into my room, settling on the bed with her in my arms, rubbing her back.
“Keep breathing, Princess.”
“I—can’t.”
“Antonio is bringing your medicine. Everything will be fine.”
She claws at my chest.
“I’m dying.” Only a faint sound escapes her lips. Her face is turning blue.
“Antonio!” I roar.
My hands start shaking.
“Nothing will happen. Keep breathing.” I’m ordering her, commanding her to live.
Bruno howls and storms around the room—running out, then back again. He sniffs at her before bolting out again. He’s in the same state I am—losing his mind. If anything happens to this woman, neither of us will survive. She’s our fucking life.
Finally, Antonio arrives. He flips the box open on the bed and fills the syringe.
“Inject it in her thigh,” I force out.
I lift her dress. Antonio administers the injection.
Just then, she stops struggling. I quickly look at her face. Her eyes are empty, staring through me.
I freeze. Everything around me goes black—except her blue face. My hands won’t move, won’t check her pulse. I just stare, clutching her to my chest. My heartbeat fades to nothing.
If she dies, I won’t live a single minute longer. I couldn’t bear the pain of drawing another breath.
But then she stirs. Her eyes flutter closed.
My heart thunders back to life. I crush her to my chest, breathing again, then pull back to look at her. She’s breathing through her nose, her mouth closed.
“I can breathe,” she whispers.
I kiss her. My tears fall onto her face.
She takes deep breaths.
“You... kissed me.” The words barely exist.
I rub her back. “Focus on breathing.”
Bruno climbs onto the bed and sniffs her face.
“She’ll be fine,” I tell him, wiping my face on my sleeve.
I move back against the headboard, keeping her upright in my arms. I look up and find Antonio watching me.
“I’ll call the doctor.”
I nod. He leaves.
I brush the hair stuck to her forehead aside and kiss her there.
“You don’t hate me.” Her voice is clearer now.
I kiss her again.
“I love you, Princess.”
She struggles to keep her eyes open.
“I love you too.” Her words slur.
“I’m not... dying, right?” she whispers, her eyes drifting shut.
“You can’t die, Princess.” I press the hoarse words into her forehead. “You’re the morning after all my darkest nights. God can’t be cruel enough to take you away too.”
She doesn’t speak again. Her breathing steadies. Slowly, color returns to her face.
By the time Antonio returns with my personal doctor, her condition has stabilized.
Liam examines her and administers another injection. She’ll remain in short-term neural suspension—a coma-like state lasting twelve to fourteen hours.
Once Liam leaves, I look at Antonio.
“Ask Robin to prepare the jet and the capsule.” I glance down at her face in my arms. “Tell him I’ll go, too.”
“Are you sure?”
“I can’t keep her. Alessio will find her soon, and she’ll still hate me after I kill Alexander.”
“It will be difficult.”
“I know,” I mutter, without looking away from her.