Page 97 of Ruthless Vow
She’s standing now. Her mouth is open. She’s screaming my name. I can see my name on her lips, can see the terror in her eyes, but I can’t hear her. Can’t hear anything except a high, thin ringing and the desperate thunder of my own failing heart.
No.
Her hands reach for me.
No. Not yet.
I didn’t tell her.
Cassia.
The ringing swallows everything. Her face breaks apart. Fragments. Fades.
I try to hold on. Try to keep her in focus. Try to say the words I should have said weeks ago, months ago, the night she walked into my study and offered me everything.
Darkness. Heavy. Complete.
The last thing I recognize is her hand in mine.
And then nothing at all.
23
CASSIA
The glass hits the floor before I understand what’s happening.
Then Dante follows.
His shoulder catches the table, sends plates crashing, and his body is folding wrong, all wrong, and I’m screaming his name before I know I’m standing, before I know I’m moving, before I know anything exceptno no no no no.
I hit my knees beside him. My hands find his face. His skin is gray. Clammy. His eyes are closed and he won’t open them, won’t look at me, won’t answer.
I force my hands to steady. They don’t listen.
“Dante.” My voice breaks on his name. “Dante, please. Please.”
Nothing.
Blood pools beneath his head where he struck the floor. Dark against the hardwood. Spreading.
“No. No, no, no.”
I’m touching his chest, his shoulders, his face. Trying to find him. Trying to bring him back.
“Dante, wake up. Look at me. Look at me.”
His chest rises. Falls. Too shallow. Too slow.
“Someone get Giada’s bag from her car. Now.”
Lorenzo’s voice cuts through the chaos. I don’t look up. Can’t look away from Dante’s face. From the blue tinge creeping into his lips.
“Dante, please.” I’m crying. When did I start crying? “Please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me. I need you to open your eyes. I need you to hear me.”
Hands grip my shoulders. Try to pull me back.
I twist away, clutch at his shirt.
