Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“Why the hell am I in the hospital? And can I please get another blanket?” My voice croaks as I open my eyes. The lights are brighter than necessary. I’m trying not to move my head, the pain that intense. It’s ten time worse than the hangover I had on my twenty-first birthday, that’s for sure, which says a lot because I was hovering over a toilet and falling asleep on the cool tile floor. It was probably the only time I was raging hot as I slept after drinking all the syringe-looking shots given to me, followed by beer, and then mixed that with Malibu Rum and Coke. Yeah, it was horrible. Needless to say, I don’t drink those concoctions anymore.
“Shhh, go back to sleep, mia figlia,” Nico’s mom says. Her movement alerts my parents that I’m awake. Both are fast on their feet and head towards the hospital bed, which isn’t hard to do considering this place is the size of a postage stamp.
“Wylder just stepped out to grab you another blanket. That son of mine called him three times, telling him to make sure you’re warm,” my mom says.
“Nico will be back soon.” I must look confused as to why Nico isn’t here when his mom tells me without telling me what’s going on when she gives me the look that says, “You don’t question anything right now and let him take care of things.”
“Thank God, you’re okay,” Mom says. Dad places his hands on my feet, not needing to say a word, just keeping me warm in the best way possible. He is not a man of many words, so much like Wylder in that aspect.
“I am really tired and feel like if I make any movements, my limbs will fail me.” Explaining that out loud sounds silly, but it’s the only way I can describe it.
“A cop will be in soon. You need to tell them that you don’t remember a thing, okay, mi figlia?” Mrs. Donotello states. I nod my head. My parents, having known the Donotellos all of Wylder and Nico’s life, don’t interject.
The whole reason Nico and I were married as fast as we were is because of scenarios much like this. Well, not me in a hospital bed and him out taking care of business. He prepared me, told me never to talk to a cop unless my lawyer was present, one he would always provide for me. I’m not privy to all the inner workings of how the business works, and that’s okay with me. The less I know, the better. I’m there for him when he needs to unwind, talk when he has something to get off his chest. At least I am now. There was a time I’d have been shout out from everything, but things have changed for the better. I don’t think we thought it would come to me landing in a hospital. I realize that whatever I was shot with was something like a tranquilizer dart that paralyzes your body. Thankfully, my body shut down, and I pretty much slept through whatever happened after, so it’s not like I can tell the cops what they want to know anyway.
“Seems Sleeping Beauty finally made her grand appearance.” My husband. It still gives me butterflies to think of Nico as my own. He’s not here but called Wylde to make sure I had extra blankets. It shows how much he cares, even from afar.
“Oh God, that feels so good.” The blankets are warm. The heat along with the heaviness has me drowsy once again. “I think I’m going to rest my eyes now.” Soft chuckles are the last thing I hear. The drugs are clearly still in my system because right before I fall asleep, Nico’s voice is husky in my ear as he says, “Non posso vivere senza di te.” Those word I’ve yet to hear from him are unlike any he’s said before. I’ll have to ask him what they mean.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Nico
If it weren’t for my father, things could have gone wrong, so very fucking wrong. The description he gave me once he and a few other guys joined him that Petrov had a gun in his hand and he was pointing it right at Journey, to say it took years off my life was putting it mildly. My father came out of retirement to take care of the scum of the earth that was currently trying to wipe out more than me. Going after my wife, Petrov knew it would be a declaration on war. If Journey were gone, I’d be mourning her, making me weak, which is when he’d swoop in. Petrov wasn’t smart enough, though, not when it came to the Donotello Famiglia. We protect our own with everything necessary The one casualty is Journey being shot with a dart pumped full of drugs. Even the hospital staff had no idea where to begin with the toxicology report. The one thing that saved her was the fact she pulled it out of her neck before falling to the ground while the drugs worked their way out of her system. It’s the concussion they’re worried about now. I rode with her in the ambulance to the hospital, asking Enzo, who was better and more cognizant, refusing to go to the hospital, and my father to hold Petrov in the freezer until I knew she was okay. The second she was taken back, and no one was allowed with her while they ran tests, that’s when I left, unable to pace any longer while still needing to be a boss. Journey may be pissed, but putting Petrov out of commission and keeping her safe, this time for good, was more important.