Chapter 2
SERAFINA
What the actual fuck?
If getting kidnapped, tied to a chair, and forced to see my brother captured wasn’t bad enough, then everything that came after was a massive nightmare I’m dying to wake up from.
Just when believing everything would be okay, when one of Vanessa’s guys untied Zeno and propelled me to safety, him getting shot for me shouldn’t have happened.
Lev. His name is Lev. That’s what Vanessa shouted seconds before he yanked me out of the way, taking the offending bullet himself.
It wasn’t long before realizing if he didn’t move me aside, the bullet would have gone through my head.
The trajectory of the weapon and the height difference would have led to fatal consequences.
My insides screech at me to stop, to process, but the stranger working with Vanessa Volkov, my recently discovered half-sister, who saved my life and got injured doing so, needs me more.
His injury is nearly laughable in a cruel, ironic way, because everyone around me gets hurt.
Always a burden. Never helpful.
Madre gave up being a Cosa Nostra wife to raise me, and her life forever changed.
Zeno gives up so many of his resources—and his patience—for me.
Even Nero, his best friend and my honorary brother, gives me endless spare hours of his time, ensuring to be around when Zeno can’t.
Today, Vanessa nearly gave up her organization to save me and Zeno. Lev gave up his health.
I hate this more than anything, but since ensuring Lev got safely to the car was all I can do, my determination drove me to do it to the best of my abilities.
The tires of the SUV I barely managed to help Lev into before he passed out on my lap squeals as Vanessa speeds away.
Beside her in the passenger seat is Zeno, who’s consistently checking how I’m doing, as though any of this is okay or normal or worthy of being fine.
I stopped being okay when getting kidnapped.
I stopped being fine when Lev took a bullet to the shoulder.
None of this is okay.
Beside me, Anastasia, Lev’s sister, holds a cloth onto the bullet wound, trying to keep it closed to infection.
Every couple of minutes, she mutters to Vanessa, who speeds up.
I can’t hear them properly, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
It’s too loud to focus on anything except the man in my lap and stroking my fingers through his hair.
It’s the only semi-helpful act I can do.
“You’re doing good,” Anastasia reassures, as though hearing my frazzled thoughts.
Zeno glances behind him again, his mouth pressed together.
Stroking Lev’s hair doesn’t feel useful and is nowhere a good enough thanks for saving my life. He jerks every once in a while, mainly when Vanessa drives over a pothole too roughly, but I’m quick to shush him back to sleep.
You’re hurt because you helped me. Words I should say aloud so they understand how and why he got shot. My throat feels tight and words are stuck, so instead, I just bow over Lev and keep his bangs off his face while examining his features.
He’s insanely hot, and if I wasn’t filled with guilt, perhaps I’d appreciate that more.
His hair is a fascinating mix of blond and brown, like he can’t figure out which colour to go with.
His nose is a bit crooked, but nothing that disrupts his face.
Three pale white lines are scattered on his chin.
Scars, I realize. His body is a combination of thin and wiry and corded muscles—some of which held me during our escape—that reminds me a little bit of my boyfriend, Alessio.
Alessio, who is probably pissed he hasn’t heard from me in days. But getting kidnapped would do that.
As Vanessa takes another sharp turn, the motion wipes thoughts of Alessio from my mind. As much as I like him, his possessiveness isn’t in my capacity to deal with right now, and it’s so minuscule compared to someone’s life.
Finally, we arrive at a mansion—as castle, really, a three-storey tall building made of a dark brick that awes me. It’s so opposite from the Mancini villa, which is all tan siding, archways, and a vast number of windows to allow the warm Italian sun in.
The SUV slams to a stop by the front door, and then there’s a mad rush of movement to slide a groaning Lev out of the backseat. Men in uniforms reminding me of Zeno’s soldiers appear out of nowhere to carry him into the house.
Vanessa follows them while Zeno lingers, helping me from the vehicle.
When the mansion’s doors shut, we’re alone, and the sudden silence is deafening after the day.
The fighting and shooting, yelling and threats, are replaced by my brother’s relieved sigh and the wind blowing over the forest fencing the mansion.
I don’t realize I’m shaking until Zeno yanks me into a hard hug, his arms tight around my back. “Are you truly okay?”
I’m not sure. “I’m alive, but I feel bad for Lev.”
His eyes tighten again, the same way they’ve been doing half the drive. “He’ll be alright. Their doctor will patch him up.”
“Still. They saved us, Z. We should be there for them in return.” Not entirely sure if Vanessa would want us in her house, I drag him through the doors, feeling a panicked urge leading me through the many hallways and following the commotion of Vanessa and Anastasia shouting orders.
As long as Lev’s okay, maybe the rest of this will be okay. If he’s gravely injured, it’s not fair for another person to be dragged down by me all because I slipped my protection detail and got kidnapped.
In the end, Lev’s injury is my fault.