Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
KAI
Pain has a funny way of clarifying things. Strips away bullshit. Removes pretense. Leaves you with raw truth and the decisions you've made that led to bleeding out in a gutter.
I'd made a lot of questionable decisions in my twenty-six years. Killed men who probably didn't deserve it. Hurt people to maintain order. Looked the other way when violence served a purpose.
But falling for Aria Romano? That wasn't a decision. That was fate. Destiny. Whatever cosmic force decided to fuck with my life by putting the one person I couldn't have directly in my path.
And now I was paying for it with a bullet hole through my arm and the woman I loved locked in a room waiting to be sold to my father like cattle.
The world tilted sideways. Or maybe I was tilting. Hard to tell when you'd lost enough blood that everything felt floaty and disconnected.
I'd been dumped outside the estate gates like garbage. Face down on gravel. Arm screaming. Vision blurring.
Footsteps crunched nearby. Someone swearing creatively.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Kai. You look like absolute shit."
Marco's voice. Good. That was good. Marco would know what to do.
Hands grabbed me. Hauled me upright. The movement sent fresh agony through my arm and I couldn't quite swallow the groan that escaped.
"Yeah, you sound like shit too. Come on, we need to move before your father sends someone to finish the job."
Marco half-carried, half-dragged me to his car. Shoved me in the passenger seat with zero gentleness. My arm protested violently.
"Where are we going?" My voice sounded wrong. Slurred.
"Doctor Chen. He owes me favors and doesn't ask questions. Try not to bleed all over my upholstery. This car was expensive."
"Fuck your car."
"There's the Kai I know. Thought I'd lost you for a second there."
The drive was a blur of pain and Marco's colorful commentary on my life choices. He had valid points. Most of them involved the phrase "I told you so" in creative variations.
Doctor Chen's office was in Chinatown. Basement level. Off the books medical care for people who couldn't go to real hospitals without attracting police attention.
Perfect for situations like getting shot by your own father.
Chen took one look at me and started swearing in Mandarin. I didn't speak the language but I recognized cursing when I heard it.
"Bullet went through clean." He examined my arm with clinical detachment. "Missed the bone, missed major arteries. You're lucky. Whoever shot you either had terrible aim or didn't actually want you dead."
"My father. And it's complicated."
"Family always is." He started prepping supplies. "This is going to hurt. I don't have anything for the pain except whiskey and your friend's questionable sense of humor."
"The humor will make it worse." Marco handed me a bottle. "Drink up, princess."
The stitching was agony. Each pull of thread through torn flesh made my vision white out. I drank. Breathed through it. Focused on anything except the needle.
Focused on Aria. On getting back to her. On making my father pay for putting his hands on her.
"Done." Chen wrapped the wound in clean bandages. "Keep it dry. Change dressings twice a day. No strenuous activity for at least a week. Come back if you see signs of infection."
A week. He thought I had a week to rest and recover.
Cute.
I stood up. The room spun briefly before stabilizing.
"Thanks, doc. What do I owe you?"
"Consider it a favor for old times. Just try not to get shot again so soon. I'm running low on supplies."
Back in Marco's car, I gave him directions.
"Take me back to the estate. I need to get Aria out before..."
"Absolutely not." Marco didn't even start the car. Just stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "Are you insane? Did you lose too much blood? Because that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth and that's saying something."
"I can't leave her there with him."
"You go back now, you die. Salvatore has guards everywhere. Luca is watching. They'll shoot you on sight. Your father made that very clear when he dumped you outside like trash."
"I don't care. I can't just..."
Marco hit me. Not hard enough to cause real damage but enough to snap my attention back.
"Listen to me very carefully because I'm only saying this once. I warned you yesterday this would happen. I told you to be more careful. I said Luca was watching. And you didn't listen. You never listen. You went charging in to comfort your girl and got caught and now look where we are."
He was right. I hated that he was right.
"So here's what you're going to do. You're going to sit here. You're going to let me drive you somewhere safe. And you're going to use that brilliant strategic mind I know you have to figure out how to save her the smart way instead of getting yourself killed trying to be a hero."
"There's no time for smart. The wedding is in a week."
"Then we better work fast. We have evidence. We have a case. Father Benedetto already agreed to hear us. But we need to wait until morning when the full Council can convene. Going back tonight gets you killed and does nothing to help Aria."
Logic. Reason. Everything I didn't want to hear but needed to accept.
"Lia. What about Lia? Is she safe?"
"Locked in her room too. Your father is in full paranoid mode.
No one in or out. Guards on every door. He's keeping everyone under watch until he can marry Aria and announce Lia's engagement.
" Marco started the car finally. "But she's alive.
Safe for now. We save Aria, we save Lia. But we have to do this right."
I slumped back in the seat. Let exhaustion and blood loss and defeat wash over me.
"Where are we going?"
"My place. It's secure. Your father doesn't know about it. You can rest, regroup, prepare for tomorrow."
"I don't need rest."
"You need about twelve hours of sleep and probably a blood transfusion. But since we can't do the transfusion, sleep will have to suffice."
Marco's apartment was in a building he owned under a shell company. Top floor. Good security. Anonymous enough that no one would think to look for me there.
He set me up in the guest room. Brought water, painkillers, clean clothes.
"Get some sleep. I'll wake you at dawn and we'll go see Father Benedetto together."
"I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. See my father hitting her. See the fear on her face when they dragged her away."
"Then lie there and stare at the ceiling. But stay in that bed. Don't make me tie you down."
He left. Closed the door.
I lay there. Stared at the ceiling. Watched shadows move as headlights from passing cars swept across the room.
My arm throbbed. A steady, burning pain that made thinking difficult.
But not difficult enough to stop the thoughts from coming.
Aria was in that room right now. Locked in. Guarded. Knowing the wedding was happening in seven days whether she wanted it or not.
Was she crying? Pacing? Planning escape? Or had she given up? Resigned herself to the nightmare future my father had planned?
No. Not Aria. She was stronger than that. Fierce. She'd fight until the very end.
But what if fighting wasn't enough? What if I couldn't get to her in time? What if the Council didn't act fast enough and she ended up my stepmother before I could stop it?
The thought made my stomach turn. Made rage and helplessness war in my chest.
I should have been smarter. Should have listened to Marco. Should have waited until morning to tell Aria about the recording. Should have controlled myself better instead of letting emotion override logic.
But I'd never been good at controlling myself around her. From that first night in the club, she'd obliterated every carefully constructed defense I'd built. Made me feel things I'd spent years suppressing. Made me want things I had no right to want.
Made me love her.
And love made me stupid. Made me reckless. Made me do insane things like step in front of bullets and challenge my father in his own study.
My mother had loved my father once. Before he'd shown her who he really was. Before the violence and control and cruelty had broken her spirit piece by piece.
She'd tried to leave. Packed bags for herself and me and Lia. Made plans to disappear.
He'd found out. Stopped her. Made it look like suicide when really he'd murdered her for daring to defy him.
I'd been fourteen. Old enough to know the truth even if I couldn't prove it. Old enough to start planning revenge that had taken twelve years to execute.
And now, when I was so close to bringing him down, he'd taken the one thing that mattered more than revenge.
He had Aria.
I couldn't let her end up like my mother. Couldn't let him break her. Couldn't fail her the way I'd failed to save my mom.
The night stretched on forever. Each hour feeling like ten. Pain and worry and guilt mixing into a toxic cocktail that made rest impossible.
I thought about Aria constantly. The way she'd looked at me in the garden when we'd shared our first real conversation. The way she'd felt in my arms that night in the club. The way she'd said she loved me like the words cost her something.
The way she'd screamed my name when they dragged me out bleeding.
I'd promised her we'd survive this. Promised I'd save her. Promised a future that seemed more impossible with every passing hour.
But I meant those promises. Every single one.
I'd burn down the entire world to keep them. Would paint this city in blood if that's what it took. Would sacrifice every principle, every rule, every piece of my soul if it meant she walked away free.
That's what love did. Made you willing to become a monster to protect the one person who made you feel human.
My father had taught me violence. Had trained me to separate emotion from action. Had turned me into a weapon he could point at his enemies.
But he'd forgotten one critical thing. Weapons don't care who they're aimed at.
And I was about to turn every lesson he'd taught me back on him.