“You're awake. Thank God. I was so worried about you.” She stands above me, shielding me from the brightness.
I smile at her. “Hey, Chiara,” I rasp.
“Here, drink some water. The doctor said you would be thirsty.” I drink all the water she gives me. Why the hell do I feel like this? I look down from my body to my bandaged fists, and I remember.
My eyes widen. I shot at Gabriel. “Chiara?”
Her brows pull together in worry. “What is it?”
“Is Gabriel okay?”
Her brows furrow. “Yes. Why wouldn’t he be?”
I relax a bit, but my heart still beats hard. “The last thing I remember is that I shot him.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know what happened in detail. Nico called me yesterday to stay with you until you wake up.” She looks at the door. “And Mack has been outside that door since you were brought here.”
I force a smile. I didn’t shoot him, yet he still isn’t here. Why isn’t he here? I need to see him, need him by my side. I close my eyes, not wanting to explain why I want to cry and how my chest is tight, and I feel like I can’t breathe. Nor do I want to explain how my heart is breaking because he isn’t here with me. The door opens, and I don’t care who it is. I just want to go back to sleep and forget.
“She's awake. Well, at least she was a minute ago.” My sister’s voice drops from ecstasy to disappointment.
“Did she say anything?” My heart stops as soon as I hear his voice.
“She asked if you’re okay. She looked shocked.”
“That’s good. You can go now. Nico is waiting for you in the car.” Gabriel’s satisfied voice releases the tension I was holding.
There is a kiss on my cheek, followed by the rumpling of clothes before her footsteps disappear behind the door.
The side of my bed dips, and fingers brush my forehead. “I know you're awake, Valentina.”
I slowly open my eyes, and they meet the warm browns of my husband. He smiles. “How are you feeling?”
“Now that you’re here, better.” I grin.
His lips spread in a smile. “And how are you really feeling?”
“Like a wreck,” I say. And that is how I feel. Inside and out. My body hurts, my mind screams, but my heart is full.
“For what you went through, this is normal,” he says. I narrow my eyes at him when he starts to play with a strand of my hair. “I thought I’d lost you. We searched everywhere for you.”
“We?”
“There isn’t a single man in Cosa Nostra or Camorra who wasn’t looking for you.”
“Is he dead?” I ask and focus on the events, not my feelings or why he’s here. “Is Sabatini dead?”
“He will be soon.”
My brows rise as he caresses my cheek with the back of his fingers. “What are you doing?”
“You should eat something. I brought you food.” He lowers his hand and sets my bed and my pillow before he reaches for the container on the side of the bed. He opens the container, and the smell of food makes my stomach churn. I have no idea when the last time I ate was.
“How long have I been gone?” I search Gabriel’s eyes for an answer.
“Two days. I suppose you don’t remember much. Your body was filled with drugs. You were high on drugs and adrenaline before you passed out.” He takes a spoonful of soup and brings it to my mouth. “Open.”
“I can eat on my own,” I argue. Still, I open my mouth.
