Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
And the way he yelled out, asking if I—his wife—was shot? It held so much fear, protectiveness, and more. It was palpable. The doors shut, my sight of Nico cut off, and the elevator rises.
“Are you okay, Farren?” I ask, turning to check on him. My throat is tight, and my adrenaline is seizing the blood in my veins, but I feel awful he took a bullet while protecting me.
Suddenly, I feel terrified and alone, scared of what is going to happen next. Who attacked us? It wouldn’t be my father; he wouldn’t risk me getting shot…would he?
“Yes, I’m doing just fine. Not my first time. Are you all right, Mrs. Valiente?” he inquires, and I nod.
“Um… yeah, sure. And please… Emelia. Call me Emelia,” I tell him in a whisper.
Would my father really try so soon and so brazenly to shoot my husband with me in the crossfire?
No. He couldn’t. I refuse to believe it. I have to.
The next thirty minutes pass in a blur. I start to worry about Nico and Giulio. Are they okay? What happened? Do they know? I have some of Farren’s blood on me, and I want a shower, then take something to knock me out. My adrenaline won’t settle, and the spike in anxiety is making it impossible to calm myself down. I think about showering, but something in me can’t get past waiting until someone comes in here and tells me what is happening.
“I don’t care what it was or who. I want them dead. Whoever that was made one of my men bleed, and they nearly got Emelia. I will have their blood and flesh for payment!” Nico yells into the phone as he steps off the elevator. His shirt is covered in red. Blood. His blood? Giulio’s? My heart lurches, but then I see Giulio step out, and I’m instantly relieved.
“Nico. What happened? Who did this?” I am up and on him in just a few strides. I’m assessing his body and trying to see if it’s his blood or someone else’s.
“We were attacked, Emelia. Someone is out for us.”
I swallow back the guilt and knowledge that I already knew there was no peace. Also knowing who it is who wants to see Nico’s reign end the most.
“Oh my hell, Nico, you were shot!” I see the bullet wound on his left bicep, and I reach down, grab the bottom hem of my dress, and rip. I fold the cloth up and add pressure. Turning my head, I tell Giulio to call the doctor, the same man who placed my tracker implant.
“Yes, Mrs. Valiente.”
I don’t correct him as I focus on Nico’s bleeding arm.
“I don’t need you tending to me. I have been hurt worse than this before,” he tells me, and it comes out more as a fact than something condescending or disrespectful.
“I get that, but I know how to keep you from bleeding out, so just let me help. But it serves you right after tracking me like an animal.” I use my earlier anger without an ounce of shame.
“Fine. Giulio, send Dr. Fontelo into our room.” He nods toward our bedroom, and we walk there as I keep pressure on the bleeding wound. I will need more cloth, as it's already soaking through the fabric of my dress. I tug him toward the bathroom, and I search for towels or anything else I can find.
“Right side, second drawer down,” Nico tells me as if he reads my mind.
Hurrying, I grab the washcloths and rush back, grabbing his arm once again.
“Nico, they got you good. We might need to take you to the hospital.” Saying this earns me a scoff.
“I’m fine, Emelia. Seriously, I’ve had worse. Dr. Fontelo will be able to remove the bullet and stitch me up just fine.”
“Stubborn,” I grumble.
“Pain in the ass,” he retorts.
We lock eyes then, and I see that look again.“What?”
“They came after what was mine, Emelia. I told you I don’t take kindly to it.”
I gulp.“I know people coming after your men must be hard, but doesn’t that happen often?” How can he be this upset or shocked that people came after his outfit? He and his guards must be shot at on occasion.
“No. They came after you. They tried to touch what they know is off limits,” he says through gritted teeth, and I feel like I just got whiplash.
“What does that matter, Nico? If I get hit? Your pain in the ass would be handled, and you wouldn’t have to deal with me.” I change the cloth again. I seriously think he may bleed out if the doctor doesn’t hurry his ass up. “You and I both know this is only an arrangement.”
“Business deal or not, you are my wife, and I won’t let them attack you. You are not up for fucking grabs. No woman in the outfit should be, especially not mine.”