Chapter 21
brUNO
“That was a fucking waste of time,” I say through gritted teeth, making my way down the front steps of the bar lounge, Leo right by my side. My men surround us as we head toward the cars, and I pull out my switched-off phone. I didn’t want to be disturbed during such an important meeting.
Alexei and I came to no sort of agreement; the meeting, for all intents and purposes, ended with me warning Alexei, in no uncertain terms, to stay away from my territory. If I got wind of any more Russian operations occurring in San Francisco, I would have his Goddamn head on a stick and plant it in the bedroom he shares with his wife. He didn’t take kindly to that threat, but I didn’t give a flying fuck. He’s lucky I didn’t cut him up on principle.
When I switch on my phone again, my eyebrows pull together at the multiple missed calls from Raf and Diana. My heart jumps when I read her name. She wanted to talk to me and I take that as a good sign. Only for a moment though, as I begin to listen to her voicemail while approaching the car.
“Hey, Bruno,” she says, and I immediately detect the undertone of worry in her voice. “Matteo’s not feeling well, he’s got a fever. I think it’d be a good idea to take him to the hospital. You’re not answering, but Raf is here. If he says it’s okay, I’m gonna take Matteo to the doctor. And, don’t worry, I won’t be going alone.”
Concern pinpricks my skin at the notion of Matteo being sick. Before I can call her back or call Raf since he’s left me some calls as well, Leo suddenly calls out to me. “Bruno.” I look at him, and I see the look on his hardened features. Dread curls at the base of my spine, and I understand why when he tells me, “There was an attack at the front of the hospital Diana and Matteo were at. Diana got shot.” His gaze flickers toward the lounge. “Tony and Raf confirmed it’s the Russians. Matteo’s back home with Raf, but Diana’s in surgery.”
A ringing echoes through my head, and I can only focus on three words.
Diana got shot.
Diana got shot.
Diana got shot.
White-hot rage shoots through my veins, and I’d rather feel that than the iron grip my terror has on my chest. I practically throw open the car door, my jaw tight enough to shatter my teeth as I tell Leo, “Got to plan B.”
Leo nods and gives the signal to the other men before getting in the driver’s seat. He doesn’t need an order from me to peel out of the lot and speed toward the highway. As we drive away, I can hear the distant, familiar sounds of gunfire. My men know not to leave any survivors.
We could have done this amicably. We could have come to some sort of agreement. But Alexei chose to jerk me around and waste my time—for this. He purposefully stalled because he’d ordered his men to find either my kids, Diana—since she’s Benny’s daughter—or both. And for that, his life, or the lives of his men, will not be spared.
It’s about time I got rid of my Russian problem.
As Leo drives to the hospital, all I can feel is the thundering of my heart, the fear that bleeds through my anger. Diana was meant to be kept out of this side of my world. And while I know, at first, she had been intimidated by me, I always knew she hasn’t been genuinely afraid of me. I see it in the fire in her eyes when she looks at me—both indignant and lust-driven. And it’s a sight to admire, as much as I admire the sight of her with my children, who have so easily grown to love her.
If anything happens to Diana, Matteo and Monica will be devastated.
If anything happens to Diana, I don’t think I’ll fucking recover—and that is a realization that settles deep inside of me.
I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her.
The second Leo pulls up in front of the hospital, I’m racing inside. He pulled into a different entrance, though I see there are several police cars around. I don’t pay them any attention as I race inside, uncaring if I look as disheveled as I feel. I shove my way past doctors and nurses and other insignificant people until I reach the first nurse’s station I find.
My hands smack on top of the counter, startling the nurse. I don’t care as I say, “Diana Elliott. She was brought in with a gunshot wound. Where is she?”
The nurse blinks at me and at my authoritative tone. “I’m sorry, sir—are you related to the patient?”
A low, impatient growl escapes me, and the nurse looks even more nervous. I don’t have fucking time for this. I lean toward her, my voice lethally low as I say, “I’m Bruno Cataldi.” Recognition and realization flash across her face, and I see the fear that slips into her eyes. “Diana Elliott. Where is she?”
The nurse’s fingers tremble as she types something quickly into the computer. “S-she’s in recovery. Second floor, room 405.”
“Thank you,” I say tightly before heading toward the elevator. But my gaze finds the side stairs, and I make a b-line toward them, knowing it’ll be faster.
I go up the stairs, two steps at a time, my heart still thundering. This floor isn’t as busy as the one below, and I make my way down the hallway, using the signs as indicators to find out where Diana’s room is. The second I find it, I don’t hesitate and go inside, startling the doctor that stands at the end of Diana’s bed, working on a tablet.
But my gaze is on Diana, who is asleep, looking so small and frail in the hospital gown. A heart rate monitor beeps consistently, the sound more soothing than you’d think, and tubes of fluids are hooked to her arm. Nasal cannulas are in her nose, her chest rising and falling steadily. She’s alive. She’s okay.
I won’t lose her. I won’t lose anyone else again.
“Is this your wife, sir?” The doctor’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t even realized I’d moved to Diana’s side, my fingers brushing against hers, just to feel her skin against mine. The doctor, whose coat reads Dr. Parker, gazes at me intently.
My jaw tightens for a moment. “Girlfriend,” slips out of my mouth easily, effortlessly. God knows Diana and I have a shit ton to figure out—hell, our last conversation days ago had been an argument. She’s nowhere near being my girlfriend, but she is mine.
Dr. Parker nods. “She’s recovering well,” she tells me. “The bullet had ricocheted to her abdomen, but we were able to get it out. She lost a lot of blood, but she’s stable now.”
My throat works, fingers curling around Diana’s. There’s a stinging in my eyes that feels almost foreign now. “When will she wake up?” I ask gruffly.
“The anesthesia should be wearing off soon, but she may still remain asleep. Her body went through a lot. She needs the rest.” Dr. Parker presses the tablet to her chest, and I watch as she shakes her head while gazing at Diana. I see the reverence in the doctor’s gaze, and I understand why when she says, “She deserves to rest, after saving that little boy the way she did.”
I blink, eyebrows pulling together. “What do you mean?”
Dr. Parker’s gaze flicks to me, and she raises her eyebrows in surprise. “The whole hospital is talking about it,” she tells me gently. “She’d used her body as a shield to protect a little boy from getting shot.”
Her words freeze me in place, my throat tightening to the point where it becomes difficult to breathe. It doesn’t take a genius to know what little boy she’s referring to—Matteo. Diana used her own body as a shield so my son didn’t get shot.
When Dr. Parker leaves, that’s when a heavy, shuddering sigh escapes me, and I sink down into the plastic chair next to Diana’s bed as I stare at her sleeping face in wonder and awe. Emotions grip me tightly, not all of which I can name, and they overwhelm me greatly. This woman. . . This extraordinary woman is everything, and I almost lost her. I prop my elbow on my knee, my hand covering the bottom half of my face, and I feel the dampness on my cheeks as I stare at her.
I wipe the tears away; tears I don’t think I’ve cried in years. I remind myself that Diana is okay, that she’s alive and breathing. I watch the heart monitor that tells me as much, and it eases some of the tension in my shoulders. The rest of the tightness will disappear the moment she opens those blue eyes of hers.
About an hour later, after I’ve talked to Leo, Raf, and my kids on the phone, and my ass has grown numb from these terrible fucking chairs, the moment comes.
Diana’s eyelids flutter, and I’m instantly sitting up, watching as she finally opens her eyes. Her eyebrows furrow together, blinking against the bright lights of the room, her head tilting against the pillow as an incoherent mumble escapes her. “Wha. . . What happened? Where am I?”
She finally sees me, and her eyes widen. “Bruno?” she asks, her voice slightly raspy from disuse. “What are you—” She tries to sit up, but I instantly stop her.
“Hey, hey, don’t try to sit up,” I tell her, slipping in a slightly stern tone as I press a gentle hand on her shoulder to keep her down. My throat works, relief flooding through me when her blue eyes lock with my brown. I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight. “Diana—”
“Matteo,” Diana suddenly gasps, her eyes wide. She goes to sit up again, but I keep her down. “Matteo—where’s Matteo? Is he okay? Is he—”
“Hey, shh,” I soothe her, pressing a hand to her forehead, pushing wisps of blonde hair back as I peer down at her. She just woke up from surgery to get a fucking bullet out of her body, and the first thing she does is ask about my son. “Matteo’s okay. He’s at home, sleeping his flu off. He’s okay.” Diana slowly relaxes at my words, the relief evident on her face as she closes her eyes and lets out a long breath. I inhale softly and say, “You saved his life. And I bet you didn’t even hesitate to do it, did you?”
Diana opens her eyes, her gaze meeting mine. Her delicate throat works as she gives a gentle shake of her head. “No, I didn’t,” she whispers. “I didn’t have to think twice. Of course, I’d save him.” Her eyes are glassy, and her lower lip trembles as her voice breaks when she says, “He’s your son.”
My chest sinks with the heavy breath I expel, my eyes squeezing shut as I lower my forehead to hers. My other hand is still holding hers, and Diana tightens her grip on my fingers as our noses press together. “Thank you,” I tell her fiercely, earnestly. “Thank you for saving my boy.”
“Of cou—”
“And don’t you ever try to leave me like that again,” I continue, cutting her off. My words have Diana inhaling sharply, and I pull back, looking down into her widened eyes.
Her eyes glisten with tears, and I wipe away the few that have escaped as she whispers a soft, “What?”
I smile at her, cupping her cheek. My heart, for the first time, is on my sleeve, but I know it’ll only ever be for her. “You can’t leave me, sweetheart. I’m sorry for what I said. I’d be a fucking mess without you. Wanna know why?”
Diana’s throat works. “Because you don’t drink water unless I give it to you?”
A laugh escapes me at that, despite the overwhelming emotions taking over. Diana’s lips tip up into a small smile. “Yes,” I nod before leaning toward her. I keep my gaze locked with hers and tell her the best truth of my life, “And because I love you.”
Her lips part and I hear the soft intake of breath, staring up at me in disbelief and emotion so warm that it thaws the last coldest parts of me. She squeezes my fingers as she says, “I won’t ever leave you. Wanna know why?”
My heart pounds, and I smile. “Why?”
She smiles back, and the sight is so fucking beautiful, I have it committed to memory. “Because I love you, too.”
When she kisses me to seal that promise, I know it’s one neither of us will ever break.