I count every second on the clock while watching the time tick away. It feels like it takes forever to bring Marcello back, and I don’t even know for sure if they can do it. After all, the bullet had plenty of time to fester inside him while we fought off the Irish and Polish men. Facing Molly and Frank was the final straw for him. Of course it made him collapse.
“What are you thinking about?” Ricardo asks.
I frown, still staring at that goddamn clock, wishing I could make time go faster so I wouldn’t have to wait this long for news. “I shouldn’t have let him run off like that after getting shot. He was in no condition to fight. What if…?”
“Hey.” Ricardo grabs my shoulder and pulls me out of my thoughts. “You can’t think like that. It’s not your fault. Marcello can’t ever stop. He’s always been like that.”
“I know, but he would’ve listened to me. Maybe if I had tried more, shouted harder.”
“You did what you could,” he says, lowering his eyes to meet mine. “And Marcello is just a stubborn bastard who refuses to listen.”
The comment makes me smile, but only a little.
“He’ll make it out,” Ricardo adds. “You’ll see.”
I clutch my coat and hug myself tight, trying not to feel the cold shimmying up my legs, making me shiver.
“Are you okay?” Ricardo asks, raising a brow.
“I’ll be fine,” I bark back.
He sighs. “It’s okay if you let yourself hurt, you know.”
“Stop,” I reply, throwing him a look. “I can’t deal with it right now, okay? I just want to know if Marcello is okay.”
Suddenly, the doors to the staff-only side open, and my eyes and ears immediately pick up the sound like a trained dog looking to sniff out the enemy.
“Marcello?” I ask. “Is he…?”
“Alive. For now, anyway.” The doctor adds an awkward grin, one that would piss me off if this was a normal situation. But right now, the only thing that matters is that he’s alive.
I get up from my seat. “Can I see him?”
The doctor clears his throat. “Well, he’s not awake at the moment, but—”
“I have to see him. I just need to. Please.” I’m all up in his face right now, but I don’t care. I’ve worried too much.
“He’s still asleep, but … he’s just been wheeled to his private room, so you may be able to see him.”
I grab his hand and shake it vehemently. “Thank you, Doctor.”
A buzzing sound makes me turn my head toward Ricardo, who fishes his phone from his pocket and takes a call. “Yeah? They surrendered? Okay, sounds good. Have them clean up the place and get rid of the bodies. I’ll stay with Marcello and Harper. Call me if you need anything.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He literally just said out loud “get rid of the bodies.” But the doctor doesn’t even seem fazed.
“What?” Ricardo raises his brow, looking at me and then the doctor. “He’s used to it. Don’t worry.”
“I’ve seen plenty of things in my line of work,” the doctor muses.
“Besides, he owes the Italians a favor for saving his daughter a couple of years ago.” Ricardo winks.
The doctor swallows. “Indeed.”
Awkward. Very awkward. But I guess that’s to be expected from a bunch of mobsters owing each other.
“Where can I see Marcello?” I ask.
“Just go through that door,” the doctor says, pointing at a door that’s on the side of the desk. “Room number fifteen.”
“Thanks.” I head toward the door with my head held high.
Ricardo stays behind, which I appreciate. I don’t want anyone listening to our conversation. If there even will be one. I don’t know how long it will take for Marcello to regain consciousness, nor do I know if he’ll be the same. He lost a lot of blood, and I’m not sure if he was breathing properly. What if he has brain damage?
No, don’t think like that, Harper. He must be okay. He has to be.
I look at the door numbers until number fourteen comes in sight, and my heartbeat begins to skyrocket. I rub my belly, whispering, “It’ll be okay, little one. Your daddy will be here to see you grow up. I’m sure.”
I blow out a breath before I go inside. Marcello is there on a comfy-looking bed, stuffed to the brim with pillows and blankets while there’s an IV in his arm. His skin is pale, and the beeping machines make my head spin. I’ve never seen him this vulnerable before, and it makes it hard to breathe. I never imagined a don of his stature and power would end up in a hospital bed like this.
That even men as strong as him could be brought to their weakest point.
I sit down on the chair beside his bed and scoot closer until I can grab his hand, and I squeeze tight. Marcello groans, still completely out of it, but it looks like he’s alive, and the mere thought brings joy to my heart and a smile to my face.
“Marcello … I’m here,” I say, forcing the tears to stay down.
“L-Harper?” he mutters slowly, his voice as raspy as that of an old, dying man.
I squeeze harder. “I won’t leave this place without you. Promise.”
“Harper …” he murmurs again, still half-asleep as his eyes remain closed. “Kitten.”
My cheeks turn red, and I’m glad there’s no one here to witness just how much I love hearing him say that word. I used to hate it when he called me Kitten, but now? Now it makes me feel loved.
And I lean in and place my other hand on his cheek, caressing him softly. “I’m so glad you’re alive. Don’t ever leave me.”
A tepid, soft smile appears on his face. “Wasn’t … planning … to … die.”
I snort a laugh and place a kiss on his cheek. “Good. Because the only person who’s allowed to kill you after all the shit you pulled is me.”
He laughs and groans right after. “That’s … my … Kitten.”
Marcello
When the meds have worn off, and I finally feel like I’m not in a weird dreamland anymore, I open my eyes and wake up to the beautiful sight of my Harper’s face lying on my lap, her eyes closed while she snores lightly.
I smile and caress her cheeks, which makes her suck in a breath. Her eyes flutter open, and a smile grows on her face.
“Marcello …” she murmurs. “How are you feeling?”
I try to sit up, but pain shoots up and down my stomach.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Harper says.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, and as she leans up, I pull away the blanket to look at my wound. I remember getting shot while trying to save Andrea and then going after Molly and Frank, but I don’t remember what happened after I shot Frank.
The wound looks gnarly, to say the least, but at least I’m patched up. “How did you even get me here?”
“Ricardo helped me carry you out.”
“What about Molly and Frank?” I ask.
She takes in a deep breath and sighs. “They’re gone.”
I nod a few times. “I … know they may have been important to you, but—”
“They weren’t. Not anymore at least. Especially not after what she put me through back there in that warehouse.”
“I’m sorry. If I’d gotten to you sooner, I might have been able to stop them.”
“I don’t blame you,” she replies. “I just wish I could’ve chopped the guy’s dick off myself.”
I laugh. “Always the feisty one.”
“I could say the same about you, going after Molly and Frank with a bullet in your body. Risky.”
“It was their time to die,” I say. “And I don’t regret it for even a second.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds. Too quiet.
“What happened to Claudio and my father?”
“Claudio and Mario stayed back to deal with the leftover Irish and Polish,” she replies. “And Ricardo had a call a few hours ago that they were already surrendering.”
“Surrendering?” I frown.
I normally never take people’s word for it, especially not when it comes to enemies. The Irish and Polish cannot be trusted. That much has been proven these last couple of months.
“We have never—”
“Trust Mario and Claudio,” Harper says. “They know how to handle things when you’re away.”
I sigh and smile gently, cupping her cheeks. Maybe she’s right. Maybe the Polish and Irish will be able to stop fighting us and try to live under our rule for once. “If you trust in the idea, then I will too.”
“I just don’t want any more fighting. For the sake of us. For our child.” She sits up and rubs her belly carefully, and it fills me with an indescribable warmth that makes me want to pull her close and hug her tight, so I do.
And I whisper into her ear, “For our child … A little miracle that is already loved so much.”
