Page 147 of Righteous Enforcer
"No!" I roar, rushing forward as she collapses. Blood darkens her hair along her temple. I gather her limp form into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her blood seeps through my shirt..
"Eva," I choke out. "Eva, stay with me."
Her eyes remain closed, face deathly pale. I press my fingers to her neck, searching desperately for a pulse.
"Get me medical help!" I shout into my comm. The warehouse spins around me as I hold her, rocking slightly. "Eva, please. Don't leave. You can’t die on me again."
This can't be happening. Not when I've just understood the truth. Not when I've finally seen through the lies and manipulations that kept us apart. Not when I know when it came down to it, she chose me.
I failed her. I let my doubts blind me, let Alessandro's suspicions poison my trust. And now she's bleeding out in my arms, having sacrificed herself to save me, the man who abandoned her to Ivan's cruelty.
"Wake up," I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers. "Please wake up. Mirabella needs you." I swallow hard. "I need you."
Something wet slides down my cheek. I'm crying. I haven't cried since I thought Eva died the first time. Now history repeats itself.
"I love you," I tell her, words I should have said days ago. "I love you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you with him."
But my sorry is too little, too late. Losing her again is my punishment for not protecting her as I promised I would do.
38
EVA
I'm floating.
Voices reach me through dense fog. Adriano's words.I love you. I'm sorry I left you with him.But they seem to come from miles away as I drift between awareness and nothingness.
Is this death? This weightless suspension between worlds?
Images flash before me. My father smiling on my sixteenth birthday… the first time Adriano kissed me… Mirabella's tiny face when she was born. They blur and twist like memories viewed through a funhouse mirror.
My mother appears, looking just as she did before cancer took her. She reaches for me, her smile gentle. "Not yet, Eva. Your daughter needs you."
The vision shifts. I see Mirabella crying, Adriano holding her as she screams for her mommy. My heart shatters.
Then Lorenzo Dante materializes, his eyes cold as the day he threatened me. "You were never good enough for my son."
"No," I try to say, but my mouth won't work.
The visions swirl faster. Ivan's sneering face, Alessandro's suspicion, Adriano's heartbreak when he thought I betrayed him.
Pain spikes through my temple, dragging me back toward consciousness.
Light stabs my eyes when I finally manage to open them. The ceiling above me swims into focus. I recognize the ornate molding from the Dante estate. I'm alive. And I’m at the Dantes’.
"She's awake," a man's voice says.
An older gentleman in a white coat leans over me, shining a penlight that sends daggers of pain through my skull.
"Miss Santoro, I'm Dr. Russo. You're quite lucky." His voice is clinical but kind. "The bullet grazed your temple and traveled under the skin along your skull. Minimal tissue damage, no penetration to the cranial cavity. We've stitched you up. You’ll have a scar, but you’re alive. It’s a true miracle considering how close range the gun was."
I try to speak, but my mouth is dry. A straw touches my lips, and I sip gratefully.
"Mirabella?" I manage.
"Your daughter is fine. With her father."
Adriano. My heart thuds. He saw me take that bullet. He must have brought me here instead of leaving me to die at the Bratva compound. But why? In my dream, he was sorry, but I know in reality, he’d given up on me.
