“Yes,” I choke out. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe, Dove.”
Her hand lifts weakly, trembling as she reaches toward my face. Her fingertips trace my cheek. Soft. Barely there.
“Don’t… yell at Rocco,” she whispers. “He’s… my friend.”
Rocco swears loudly from the front seat, his voice cracking. “Fuck,” he growls, knuckles white on the wheel.
I grip her tighter, inhaling shakily as she tries to smile at me. “My… hurricane of a husband…”
“Dio, Elena, don’t—don’t talk like—”
“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I… I—” Her face pinches with sudden pain. Then her eyes roll back. And her body goes limp.
“ELENA!” The scream rips out of me. Raw. Animal. Shredded from the deepest part of my soul. “DRIVE FASTER!” I roar. “ROCCO—FASTER!”
Rocco slams his foot down, the engine howling as we tear through the streets, but it’s not fast enough. Nothing is fast enough.
“Dove—wake up. Wake up—wake up—” I press my forehead to hers, my tears falling into her hair, my entire world threatening to rip apart in my arms. “Don’t you leave me,” I beg, voice fractured and broken. “Don’t you fucking leave me.”
The car races down the street. And everything I am—every piece of me—hangs on the rise and fall of her breath.
The moment the car skids to a stop in front of the ER doors, I throw the back door open and pull Elena into my arms. Her head lolls against my shoulder—too limp, too still—and I swear something inside my chest tears open.
“HELP!” I roar, barreling through the sliding doors. “Someone get over here—NOW!”
Nurses rush forward, a gurney appearing like someone conjured it. Hands reach for her. I don’t let go.
“Sir—we need to take her—”
“You touch her when I say you can touch her,” I snarl, clutching her tighter.
“She’s bleeding from the head—she needs immediate scan—please—just let us—” one of the nurses say. Their words blur together—medical jargon, urgency, fear from them, fury from me.
Finally, a doctor shoves forward, eyes sharp, authoritative. “We can’t help her unless you put her down.”
I freeze. Not because I trust him. Not because I believe him. But because Elena’s breath stutters—a soft, broken hitch that nearly brings me to my knees. I lower her onto the gurney with shaking hands.
“I’m right here, Dove,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
They start wheeling her away. Pushing too fast. Turning a corner. And then—She disappears behind double doors. My world goes silent. Then it explodes. I slam my fist into the wall sohard the plaster cracks. Pain shoots up my arm—but it’s nothing compared to the fucking agony tearing through my chest.
“Alessandro!” Rocco grabs me from behind as I rear back for another hit. “You can’t go in there!”
“They took her,” I grit out, shoving against him. “They took her from me!”
“They’re helping her,” he snaps, tightening his hold despite the blood still dripping from his arm. “You did your part. Let them do theirs.”
I shove off the wall, chest heaving, vision blurring with rage. “I should’ve been there,” I choke. “I should’ve—”
“Boss.” Rocco steps in front of me, grabbing my shoulders. “Look at me.” I do. And I see it—the fury in his eyes, the grief, the promise of violence simmering just below the surface. “We’re going to find the men who did this,” he says low, voice shaking. “And I’m going to put every single one of them in the ground.”
My jaw clenches until my teeth ache. “No,” I whisper. “They’re mine.”
Rocco nods once. “You’re goddamn right they are.”
My breathing steadies. My rage does not. I straighten, rolling my shoulders back as the mask falls into place—the one I inherited from my father, forged by fear, sharpened by loyalty. The Underboss. The man every monster in this city fears at night.
“Rocco,” I say quietly, dangerously. “Listen to me.” He steps closer. “We’re going to kill every single man involved in this. Every last one.” The hospital lights hum above us. The hallway smells like bleach and fear.
