Dante’s attention strayed to Nora again. “How is she?” he asked the doctor, voice gravelly with something like fear.
Nora hadn’t so much as stirred during our argument. She’d been bleeding from a head wound. I could see that she was breathing, but that didn’t mean she’d ever wake up.
“She’ll live.” The doctor responded in clipped, clinical tones. “Nothing is broken, but I’ll monitor her head injury for the next few days. She’ll be in a considerable amount of pain for a while, but she’ll heal.”
Dante sagged with relief, leaning against the bedpost for support. He quickly straightened and went to her bedside, carefully taking her small hand in both of his. He held her as if she was made of glass.
I kept my own careful hold on her other hand, my mind sticking on Dante’s accusation.
You know what they did! And it’s your fault.
The Russians had brutalized the woman I loved.
Another memory flashed through my mind: I love him!
Nora had declared her love for me while she begged for my miserable life, for Dante to spare me from a killing blow.
Guilt tore at my heart more keenly than any blade. The Russians had raped my wife, and it was my fault. I’d told Nora to flee with her sister. I’d urged her to leave Dante’s estate, when I knew that they’d staged an ambush nearby only a day earlier. Dante had taken a bullet to save her during that assault, and it’d only been a few miles away from his defensive walls. I’d allowed her to run straight into the Bratva’s waiting hands.
I wasn’t worthy of her love; I’d never been worthy of her. I’d been selfish and used her for my own ends, and then I’d failed to protect her from Dante’s sick games. Now I’d failed her in the worst way. It was unforgiveable.
I released her hand as though her chilled fingers had burned me, unable to bear the tender contact when I knew I didn’t deserve to touch her.
She groaned, and her hand twitched toward me. “Luca…” My name was a barely intelligible mumble, and the pain that laced her voice cut at my soul.
“Hold her hand, you selfish fuck,” Dante seethed. “I will do anything for my wife, even if that means letting you touch her.” His lips twisted as though the words were sour. “The Russians might’ve broken her, thanks to you, but I’ll do whatever it takes to put her back together again. You should be screaming for death right now for what you’ve done, but I won’t kill you because that would hurt her.”
My heart sank. It would hurt her because she loved me.
Reluctantly, I wrapped my fingers around hers, squeezing in a small pulse of comfort even though the contact turned my stomach. My unworthiness was poison in my veins, making me sick with the knowledge that I’d failed her in the worst way.
“I still have Gabriele and Lorenzo as my hostages,” Dante reminded me sharply. “Don’t test me, or they will suffer. Just because you’re not in your cell, that doesn’t mean you’re not my prisoner. I won’t harm you, but I won’t hesitate to torture your friends.”
My fingers tightened around Nora’s as impotent rage pulsed through my self-loathing, a toxic mix of emotions.
“Luca…” Her lashes fluttered, but her eyes didn’t quite open.
“I’m here.” I choked out the promise. “I’m right here.”
“You’re safe, Nora,” Dante murmured, his full attention fixed on her again.
“Dante?” she whispered, and jealousy punched me. “You came…”
“I will always come for you,” he swore. “I will always protect you. The Russians will die for what they did. They will never touch you again.”
She jolted at the mention of the Russians, then went limp on a groan as the movement jostled her head injury.
Dante cursed and motioned to the doctor. “Give her something for the pain.”
“No!” I barked, fresh fear gripping my heart.
They couldn’t give her opioids. For a moment, memories of my mother’s broken form lying in her hospital bed assailed me. They’d given her plenty of painkillers after my father had beaten her in retaliation for her affair with Giuseppe. She’d become addicted, and two years later, she’d died of an overdose.
“My wife won’t suffer for one more second,” Dante seethed. “And you are the last person who will cause her pain ever again.” He nodded to the doctor. “Go ahead.”
I gritted my teeth as I watched the needle ease into her arm.
I didn’t want Nora to suffer. She must be in agony after what the Russians had done to her. I couldn’t let her succumb to their torment for another moment.
