Anastasia and Dimitri catch up. My sister, being slimmer than us, practically crawls through the smashed-out window to feel around Serafina’s dress. “She’s not caught on anything.”
The dress could go, for all I care. If I had to cut her out of it to free her, so be it.
Anastasia undoes the seatbelt while I focus on carefully maneuvering Serafina’s head. Dimitri’s behind me to take her after pulling her free, and Anastasia ensures she doesn’t get caught on anything until she’s completely out from the wreckage and cradled in my arms.
After treading away from the shattered glass, I drop to my knees, keeping her close while pushing aside strands of hair sticking to the fresh blood on her face. My finger traces her cheekbones, beneath her eyes, the cuts on her head, cataloguing every injury.
Confusion over my feelings for her has never felt further. Everything I feel for this woman is channeled into my grip. The one who calms my mind. The one with the eyes as bold as the daytime sun. The one who makes me smile, who proved touch isn’t all that bad with the right person.
“Come on, Serafina. You’re okay.” It’s more for me than her, and my fingers go for her neck, seeking the only thing that matters.
The gentle beat of her pulse.
“She’s alive,” I breathe, returning to her face. “Fina.Printessa.Wake up. Please, fuck, come back to me. You’re okay.”
My sister reaches over, doing what I should—checking her injuries. But I’m numb. Logical acts are shoved aside for absolute fear.
“We need to get her to the hospital. She might have a head injury.” That’s Dimitri’s voice, but it sounds so far away.
Without taking my eyes off her, I say with determination, “She has to open her eyes first.”
“Da, but she needs medical attention. Eyes opening will come with help.”
I snarl, lifting my hand off Serafina, only to gesture to the crashed car, knowing anytime now, one of the numerous passing cars will stop and call medical services—which means we need to get out of here before the Bratva is linked to the accident that injured a Cosa Nostra Capo.
“Check him. Tell me if he’s still alive.”
Dimitri disappears from my limited view. Limited, because my focus is entirely on Serafina. Focus and control. Everything Papa drilled into me. It’s been saved up for her, for this very moment.
“Printessa,open your eyes.” I rub through the blood staining her cheek, spreading it to cover the fake pink on her skin. “Fina, I love you. I do. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
There’s a cut above her left eye I brush my thumb over.
A bruise forming on her forehead.
Cuts on her arms and hands and chest.
The pure white dress is now littered with brown and red.
“Wake up.Please.”
Her chest lifts as she sucks in a large gulp of air. Her eyes flutter, and my own heart shudders. “L-Lev?” Her voice is raspy.
“I’m here, Fina. You’re safe.” My arms haul her tight to my chest, her gasp of pain the only thing forcing me to loosen ever so slowly.
She tries to turn her head to the side. “A-Alessio…is he alive?”
He better not be.
“Doesn’t matter. Keep your eyes on me. We’re gonna get you help.”
“I’m tired…” Her eyes shut with her next breath, but I shake her awake.
“No, stay awake.” If my sister’s correct, this might be a concussion, and she can’t sleep.
Anastasia and Dimitri return to my side, see Serafina’s fluttering eyes, and Anastasia bends to whisper in my ear, “He’s alive. Look what I found.” She reveals one of the knives we strapped to Serafina earlier. “His leg shows sign of a major wound. I think she caused the accident.”
Brave fucking girl.“Here.” I shuffle her into Dimitri’s arms. “Keep her awake. I’ll take care of him.”
