"Chloe," my consciousness was starting to blur. The edges of my vision were going black. But I had to finish what I needed to say. "I love you. You're the only person I've ever met who made me feel like living had meaning. I'm sorry. I did so many things wrong. In the end, I still couldn't protect you properly."
Chloe's hand pressed on my abdomen, pushing hard on the wound. Her hand trembled, pressure fluctuating. Her tears dripped onto my face, warm.
"Stop apologizing," her voice was hoarse and broken. "You've done enough, Enzo. None of it matters anymore."
She lifted her head and leaned down to kiss my forehead. Her lips were warm, wet, tasting of salt from tears and snot.
"You're the only love of my life," she said.
When those words reached my ears, all the pain receded. The wound in my abdomen, the gunshot in my shoulder, the old injury in my left arm—all of it retreated to somewhere very, very far away.
My world shrank down to her face. Those honey-colored eyes held fear, anger, heartbreak, but at the deepest, deepest layer—love.
I'd been waiting for those words too long.
In the distance, suddenly, came the roar of engines. Headlightbeams cut through from the other end of the road, carving open the darkness.
Luca's voice blasted from a loudspeaker, ordering everyone inside the building to drop their weapons. Gunfire erupted again, but this time it was Luca's men firing.
I finally let out a breath. At least... at least Chloe and Emily would survive.
Luca reached my side and dropped to his knees. He saw the wound in my abdomen. His face changed.
"Luca," my voice was so weak I could barely hear it myself. But I had to make three things clear. "You need to confirm Julian is dealt with. Second, protect Chloe and Emily, no matter the cost. Third, everything in my name—all of it goes to the two of them."
Luca gripped my hand. His hand was warm. Mine was already turning cold. He nodded, said nothing, but his eyes reddened.
We'd known each other for so many years. He was my subordinate, but really, he was my brother. He was the only person I could entrust this to. I believed he would do it. Just like I would do it for him.
I tried to lift my hand to touch Chloe's face. She was right above me, tears streaming down her face, one hand desperately pressing my abdominal wound, the other arm still holding Emily. The baby had stopped crying. She was quiet now, tucked against her mother, little eyes open, as if watching something she couldn't understand.
My hand made it halfway up before the strength left. My arm fell back to the ground. My fingers touched the cold asphalt, slick with my own blood.
I'd thought about it many times—how I would die. Never imagined it would be like this, falling in front of my daughter and the only woman I ever loved.
Actually, for a guy like me, it was a pretty damn good ending.
I heard Chloe calling my name. Over and over.
Enzo, Enzo, Enzo.
Her voice grew farther and farther away, sinking into something deep and dark. I wanted to answer her. I wanted to tell her I was still here. But my mouth wouldn't obey anymore.
The last image was her face. Backlit by the headlights, her outline blurred to just a rough shape.
I fought to remember her outline, until finally, the darkness swallowed all consciousness.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chloe
Enzo was still unconscious.
I sat on the bench outside the operating room with Emily in my arms, Enzo's blood all over my clothes.
The blood had dried into a dark brown, stiff against my sweater. Every movement released the faint scent of rust. My hands were still shaking. I didn't know how long it had been since we arrived at the hospital, but my hands just wouldn't stop.
Luca stood at the other end of the hallway, back against the wall, phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in low, urgent tones. I couldn't make out the words, but the heaviness in his voice hung thick in the air outside the operating room.
