Page 83 of My Sunfall

I cup her face, mindful of the bruises blooming across her cheek and around her throat. She fists her hands in the front of my shirt, and her mouth is on mine, desperate, shaking, electric. All-consuming. We stumble a step, bodies and tongues tangled, and some dark part of me revels in the fact that we’re kissing over the bastard’s corpse. I pull her flush against me but the pain in my ribs makes me flinch.

She breaks the kiss with a sharp inhale, resting her forehead against my chest. “Lucas… you’re hurt.”

I grab her chin to tilt her face up and drag my thumb across her cheek. “I’m fine,” I rasp, meaning every word. “Because you’re still mine.”

The answer makes her breath hitch, but before she can say anything, the echo of distant shouting shatters the moment. Then there’s gunfire. My instincts snap instantly back online. I shove Chiara behind me and pull out the gun at the exact moment shadows emerge from the hallway.

D comes into sight first, rushing toward us weapon in hand. Teo is right on his heels.

They freeze when they see us. Then D mutters a vicious curse when he spots the blood on my face and shirt. They step inside the room, toward us, D holstering his weapon, his gaze already sweeping the room in a threat assessment done in under two seconds.

“We’ve got the whole ship secured,” Teo says, already moving toward Lorenzo’s body to confirm the kill. Then he straightens and steps nearer. “We came as fast as we could.”

“How…” My mind is reeling.

D’s eyes dart to Chiara, then back to me, something like respect glinting in their depths. “Because,” he says with a pointed look at me, “your wife reached out.”

I blink. “What?”

Chiara shifts behind me, and her fingers hook lightly into the back of my shirt. D continues. “She sent Erin a message from a burner phone before she walked in here. Enough info for us to track the location and storm the damn place.”

Teo snorts. “Good thing, too. You weren’t exactly in great negotiating shape.”

I huff, but I can’t miss the slight lift of the corner of his lips. I smirk back.

Then I turn to Chiara. “You did that?”

She nods, eyes tired but bright. “I wasn’t going in blind. You think I’d let them take you from me?”

My breath is ripped out of me, and fuck my bruised ribs, my split lip and broken nose, the throbbing at the back of my skull, none of it aches half as much as the swell in my chest.

“Come here.” I breathe, pulling her into me.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chiara

My heart is still racing and my hands haven’t stopped shaking as I listen to a doctor from the private clinic droning on about my condition. Aside from a few bruises on my face, throat and upper body, I’m fine. He adds that a trauma specialist will check in later to evaluate me and check for early signs of PTSD.

I’m listening with one ear and nodding half-heartedly when required. I’m distracted, my mind is elsewhere. I’m anxious to get out of this room, anxious to go see Lucas. He had been wheeled away as soon as we got here, and no one has let me see him despite my pleas. Only Lily’s presence and her regular updates on him have kept me from bolting out of the room like a madwoman. Lily says he has a cracked rib, internal bruising, a hairline fracture on his nose, and cuts and bruises from the car crash. And the gash on his cheek had required stitching. Lily had assured me that he is being taken care of by the best team in the clinic, but I need to see him for myself.

Finally, somewhere around midnight, the doctor gives me permission to get up, and the moment he leaves, I’m already out of the bed.

“I’m going to see him,” I mutter, reaching the door. “I can’t stay here another second.”

Lily nods, a knowing smile on her lips. “Room to the left at the far end of the corridor.”

I thank her and rush out toward the direction she gave me. But even without directions, I would’ve found him. His voice booms down the quiet corridor.

“—going to see her. Let me go!” he bellows, voice angry and slurred at the edges.

The door to his room is ajar and I stick my head through the crack.

“Mr. Romano, you’ve already pulled at your IV twice.” The nurse’s voice is filled with frustration. “If you continue, we’ll have to increase the sedative. You need to stay still.”

“Don’t,” he growls, his voice thick and stubborn. “Don’t you dare. I’m fine. Unhook me and I’ll go to her—”

I push the door open. “What if I come and sit with you instead?”