I frown, was that all a nightmare?
A collage of horror images filling my memory bank. “Giovanna?”
He leans down and kisses my forehead softly.
“Where is she?”
He gives a subtle shake of his head. “I’m sorry, baby.”
What?
“She’s….” My voice cracks.
“Yes.”
Then I remember who’s responsible and I go to sit up onto my elbows. “Where’s Anna?” I stammer as I look around. “He said he was going to come back for her.”
“In a safe place.” He kisses my forehead.
“But….”
“But nothing.” He lays me down and brushes the hair back from my forehead. “Anna has returned home to Milan with Val last night after we got you safely to the hospital. Valentino had to get Giovanna’s body home to her parents. Bruno home to his family too.”
I get a vision of Giovanna and Bruno being loaded onto the plane in coffins and my eyes well with tears.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he says.
I glance out the window in the door and see men standing guard in the corridor.
“Where’s Enrico?” I ask.
“He had surgery last night and is recovering downstairs in the orthopedic ward.”
“So…he’s okay?”
“For now.” He raises his eyebrow as if unimpressed.
“What does that mean?” I frown.
“I haven’t had a chance to kill him yet,” he mutters dryly.
“Oh.” I smile softly. “Remember when he threw you down the stairs at the library?”
“How could I ever forget?”
I run my fingers through his stubble. “I love you, thank you for saving me.”
He smiles as he leans over me and we stare at each other, there’s just so much love between us. It’s a palpable energy in the room.
Knock, knock sounds on the door and a doctor appears, he’s in his fifties with gray hair, and kind looking. “Miss Ferrara.” He smiles. “I’m Dr. Schwartz.”
“Hello.”
Giuliano stands back. “Hello.” He nods politely.
“You’ve had quite the dramatic night,” he says as he looks into my eyes with a torch.
“Yes.”
He takes my vitals. “Good news. You are a very lucky young lady, Francesca. Everything is progressing just as it should be and the concussion can be managed from home from here on in. The stitches in your arm are looking good. You are free to go home.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
“I want you to check in with your doctor in a few days to have your scans assessed and the stitches will need to come out in two to three weeks, depending on how well it’s healing.”
“Okay.” I smile, acting brave. From deep inside a frisson of fear runs through me.
What if Carlo is there waiting for us?
Stop it.
What if more of our men have defected and are waiting for the first opportunity to strike?
I feel so unsure of everything and everyone with no idea who to longer trust.
This is exactly what Carlo would want.
Stop it.
As if reading my mind, Giuliano gives me a reassuring smile and takes my hand in his and I know that he’s right.
We can’t let them win. Our fear is their victory.
“Thank you,” I tell the doctor, determined to get on with it. “Can I leave now?”
“Yes.” He smiles. “Of course.”
“My brother….”
“Enrico is down on level three, his operation was successful and he is recovering well, he will be in hospital here for a while longer though. You may visit him before you leave if you want.”
“Thank you.”
The doctor heads toward the door and Giuliano takes my hand and begins to help me up. “Francesca,” the doctor says.
I look up to him.
“Be careful out there, hey?”
I nod. “I will.”
Giuliano’s and my eyes meet, shivers run down my spine, the doctor thinks we are still in danger too.
“Let’s go home, baby,” Giuliano says, his voice is soft and cajoling, the one he saves only for me. He pulls me up and helps me dress in the clothes he’s brought for me.
He opens my panties up and, with my hands on his shoulders, I step into them and he carefully pulls them up. He pulls my pants on and then my sweater over my head and gently straightens it out. Then he takes the hairbrush. “Turn around.” I turn away from him and he takes his time as he gently brushes my hair.
My heart constricts and my eyes fill with tears. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For loving me the way you do.”
He turns me in his arms and kisses me tenderly. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
I nod, emotion stealing my words, and he pulls me into his arms and we hold each other tightly. Just how close we came to never seeing each other again has traumatized the both of us.
“Promise me you won’t die,” he murmurs into my hair. “That we will die together.”
I smile up at my beautiful man. “We’re not dying, Jules.”
His eyes hold mine and I realize that it’s him who needs reassuring, I can’t imagine how traumatic this has been for him.
“I want a baby.”
He frowns in surprise. “What?”