Page 118 of Twisted Secret
"Miss, this is going to be?—"
"I don't care what it's going to be." I move closer to the table, to Luca's side, and take his hand in mine. His skin is cold and clammy, his breathing so shallow I have to watch his chest to confirm he's still doing it. "I'm not leaving. I'm staying right here."
The doctor looks at Romeo, who shakes his head slightly. "Let her stay. Just keep her out of the way."
"Fine." The doctor's tone suggests it's anything but, but he doesn't argue further. Instead, he turns to a woman I didn't notice before, and starts rattling off instructions about anesthesia and instruments.
They work around me, prepping Luca for surgery with a speed that suggests they've done this before for our family… probably many times. An IV goes into his arm, and the woman cuts away the rest of his clothes, revealing the full extent of the damage.
I grab his hand once more before Romeo moves me away from the table, my heart pounding in my ears. "You're not allowed to die," I whisper desperately. "Do you hear me, Luca? You're not allowed to leave me. I’m sorry for everything. I know you kept saying you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. And I’ll make it up to you somehow. We’ll figure this out. Even if we don’t, you can’t die. I love you, and even if you don’t love me, even if you never forgive me, I can’t let you go like this."
His eyelids flutter, and just before the woman slides the IV into his other arm for sedation, I hear a hoarse whisper that sounds very much like my name come from his barely-moving lips.
"Giulia."
My name. He said my name. A sob tears out of me, and suddenly Romeo is there, his hands on my shoulders, trying to pull me away from the table.
"You need to step back," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "Let them work."
"No." I try to shake him off, but he's stronger than I am. He's already moving me backward, away from Luca, away from the table. "No, I need to—he said my name. He knows I'm here. I can't leave him?—"
"You're not leaving him." Romeo's arms wrap around me from behind, holding me in place as I struggle against his grip. "You're just giving them room to save his life. That's all. Just room to work."
The fight goes out of me all at once. I collapse against Romeo's chest, my legs giving out completely. He holds me up, and I can feel his own tension in the rigid set of his shoulders. He's scared too—terrified for his best friend, for me.
"He's going to be okay," Romeo says quietly, almost beneath his breath. I don't know if he's trying to convince himself or me."The doctor's good. The best. He's saved men who were in worse shape than this."
I want to believe him. But I can see the blood, and I can hear the urgency in the doctor's voice as he calls for instruments and suction and things I don't understand, and all I can think is that this is my fault.
If I hadn't created Valentina, if I hadn't lied, if I hadn't gotten pregnant and forced this marriage, Luca wouldn't have been in that warehouse. He wouldn't have put himself between me and Alessandro's gun. He wouldn't be on that table right now, fighting for his life while a doctor tries to repair the damage my choices created.
Another wave of sobs hits me, wracking my entire body with a force that makes it impossible to breathe or think, or do anything except cry and watch as the only man I’ve ever loved hovers between life and death, inches away.
And my brother holds me through all of it, his arms a comforting presence as we wait, and wait. Finally, the doctor steps back from the table, stripping off his bloody gloves.
"He's stable," he says on an exhaled breath. "The bullet missed everything vital—nicked a rib on the way in, but not much else. I've removed it, repaired the damaged tissue, and stopped the bleeding. He's going to need significant recovery time, and there's always a risk of infection, but barring complications, he should make a full recovery."
The relief is so overwhelming that it makes me feel breathless and dizzy, like I could pass out. My vision blurs with fresh tears, and I try to go to him, but my legs won't cooperate. I end up half-falling before Romeo catches me.
"Easy," he says, supporting my weight. "You need to sit down. You've been through hell tonight."
"I need to see him." My voice cracks. "Please. I need to?—"
"In a minute." The doctor looks at me sharply, focused on me completely for the first time. "We need to get him settled first. And you need to be examined. You're covered in blood, you've been through significant trauma, and you're pregnant. I need to make sure you and the baby are okay."
The thought of the baby brings everything back into focus. Romeo guides me into the next room, a bedroom, and I sit down as the doctor assesses me… blood pressure, my heart rate, and touches my abdomen gently. "Any cramping?" he asks. "Bleeding? Pain?"
"No. Nothing like that. Just—I'm just tired." I feel like I could collapse. The adrenaline crash has taken everything out of me, and I want to sleep for a year. But I don’t know how I’ll ever fall asleep at all without knowing for sure that Luca is going to wake up.
The doctor asks me to lie down on the bed, and comes back with a portable ultrasound machine. I stare at the ceiling as he examines me, feeling anxiety thrumming through my entire body. I try not to think about the appointment where Luca heard our baby’s heartbeat for the first time, or I’ll burst into tears all over again.
Finally, the doctor steps back. "Heartbeat is strong and regular," he says, his expression softening slightly. "No signs of distress. You and the baby both got very lucky tonight."
Lucky.The word seems absurd given the circumstances, but I understand what he means. We survived… all three of us. So far, at least.
"Can I see him now?" My voice sounds very small, and exhausted. "Please?"
The doctor nods and Romeo helps me off the bed, steadying me when my legs threaten to give out again. Together they guide me back to the other room, where Luca is now lying on a hospital bed, IV and monitors hooked up to him. His face is clean now,the blood and dirt washed away, and his chest rises and falls with the deep, even breaths of medicated sleep.
