“Get in line behind that ambulance and make sure no one’s tailing us,” I instructed my guards.
I watched them sprint after Liam and Dante.
“Nico, head to the hospital,” Enzo said firmly. “I’ll handle things from here.”
I nodded and gently took Gigi from her father. He didn’t protest; he seemed to understand we both needed each other more than ever right now. She melted into my embrace, and I stood up.
“Luca, stay here with the guys. Watch the security footage and review it to figure out what the hell went wrong,” I instructed. He nodded and dashed off with two guards.
I climbed into the backseat of the car with Gigi in my lap. Miguel slid behind the wheel of my car, and we sped off.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” I whispered, kissing Gigi’s hair. She shuddered in my arms, and I tightened my grip.
It was time to end this fucking war.
Liam was dead.
He was really gone, and the heavy guilt was crushing me.
Liam was the first person I connected with when I first moved to Chicago, and he soon became my best friend. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t come into my life. I felt as though danger was always nearby, and that death trailed behind those I cared about the most.
Nico held me tightly in his arms. His comforting and familiar scent wrapped around us, providing me with a brief respite from the grief.
He carried me from the car, each step bringing me closer to safety. The unmistakable scent of hospital disinfectants filled the air as we entered through the sliding glass doors.
We made our way through the corridors and into the elevator. When it chimed, he stepped out and continued downthe hallway, passing by the chatter of nurses and the ringing call lights until we entered a room that silenced them.
He gently set me down on the edge of the bed. As I looked down, I saw the blood coating my hands, and the tears broke free once more. My shoulders trembled as I felt the pain and heartache from losing Liam.
I heard running water, and suddenly, Nico was there, kneeling before me. He cupped my chin and lifted my gaze to meet his. With a soft smile, he began to wash away the remnants of Liam’s blood with a warm rag. I savored the soothing touch and his kindness, but then memories flooded back of what I had done to the man who harmed Liam and me.
“I killed a man,” I whispered, my eyes locked on Nico’s.
Something flickered in his gaze—respect? Pride?
“You had to do what you needed to,” he said.
“I’m a murderer,” I said, my voice cracking.
“No, you were just surviving.”
But deep down, I knew the truth. Murder was murder. I had taken a life and felt no flicker of remorse. What did that say about me?
He cupped my cheeks, his eyes fixed on me. He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss lingered on a fragile connection that seemed to stretch time before he finally pulled away.
“I’m so relieved you’re okay,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I was so fucking scared you’d been taken or… or worse, were dead.”
It felt like I was dead, my death caused by sadness and grief.
The door opened, and the same doctor who cared for me the last time I was in the hospital walked in. The doctor washed her hands and stood in front of me.
“Hi, Gigi. I’m sorry we have to meet again under these circumstances.”
I didn’t say anything, but my lip trembled.
She checked me over.
“Can you swallow?” the doctor asked.
