Not that I'm complaining, given that he just saved me. But why is he here?
I give a tight nod, and he purses his lips. His hand reaches out to touch my forehead lightly, and I whimper in pain.
"You hit your head pretty badly," he notes, and he moves to carry me in his arms.
"I'm fine. I can walk." He seems to want to argue but justshakes his head, taking my hand and leading me out of the waiting room.
The sun is coming up, the sky a combination of red and purple.
"Where are we going?"
"To my car," he says, pointing to the street where the car is waiting.
I move sluggishly, and I don't know if it's from the hit I took earlier or if I'm just at my breaking point.
We get to the car in no time, but as I'm about to get inside, I see one of the men from before running toward us, gun raised, his aim clear.
Maybe later, when I'm able to reflect more clearly, I'll regret this. Maybe I'll even look back and wonder how this one sudden decision changed the entire course of my life.
But right at this moment, I'm not thinking. I'm just acting. My mouth opens on a warning, and my body pushes against his, the last of my strength used up.
The pain doesn't come immediately. In fact, I feel quite numb as I try to blink some clarity into my eyes.
Enzo is cradling my body in his lap, and I have the vague impression that we're in a moving car.
"Why?" his voice is broken as he asks.
But I can't answer.
I can only fade away.
11
ENZO
My fingers playwith the ring around my neck, and I force myself not to look back. I knew this moment was going to come, that we'd go our separate ways. But why do I feel odd about it?
I may have known her for less than a day, but she's grown on me. She's… unexpected. Fresh. And in my world, that's as rare as hen's teeth.
Maybe that's why I was so struck by her, and why she persists in staying on my mind. I've never met someone like her, so my brain is reacting to the novelty of it. There's nothing else to it.
Satisfied with the logical explanation, I take out the phone my driver had provided, and I dial the buyer, scheduling the meeting in less than an hour. The sooner I get rid of this cursed ring, the better I'll feel.
I still don't know if those men had been after me or the ring. But I'd better not take any chances.
Time and meeting place set up, I swing by a shop to get changed and to look more put together.
Afterwards, the exchange is swift. The moment I see theamount promised deposited in my bank account, I hand over the ring and we part with pleasantries. The buyer had wanted to remain anonymous, and so he'd sent over his personal assistant instead.
While I'd been curious about the man who'd so easily splurge six million on a mere ring, a deep, unknown anxiety makes me absentmindedly gloss over the trade, my thoughts going back to Allegra. And when we're talking six million, my mind shouldn't be anywherebuthere.
Even after I leave, I still feel a nagging feeling of… something.
Visions of her being taken advantage of or lying dead in a ditch plague me the whole car ride. Her innocent eyes wide open, her lifeless body in a pool of blood…
"Fuck this!" I mutter, shaking my head. With a quick command, I ask my driver to turn the car around and head back to the ferry terminal.
I'm just going to make sure she boarded the ferry, and then I'll be able to go about my merry way. It's simply irrational, this fear I'm feeling, but no matter how much I try, I can't suppress it.
