She’s safe. She’s safe. I rub my cheek against her hair and draw in gulps of Angel-scented air. She’s not hurt. She wasn’t hit. When I heard the news from one of my men, they weren’t able to confirm who had been hit. All they told me was one of the cast ofBeauty and the Beastplaying at Palermo Theatre had been shot.
My heart stuttered. Every organ in my body seemed to stop, then start again. My pulse rate shot through the roof as I raced out of Venom, the night club owned by me and my brothers, where I had returned to wrap up unfinished business after dropping her off at the theater. I broke all of the speed limits—not that the cops would dare to arrest me, anyway—getting to the hospital. I charged in here to find her sitting in the waiting room with a vacant look on her face. Then I saw the blood on her clothes and all thought drained out of me. My lungs burned, my throat closed, and I wasn’t able to breathe. Then, when she assured me it wasn’t her blood, the fear had drained out of me to be replaced with something so profound. Something so intense... I dare not name it. I pulled her into my arms.
Now, I rock her as she cries silently. Her body shudders and her shoulders are hunched. She tries to burrow into me, as if she wants to crawl under my skin and live there. Doesn’t she know? She already has.
I rise to my feet, taking her with me, then sit down with her in my lap. I rock her as she continues to cry. I kiss her hair, her forehead, the corners of her eyes. Her lips. I close my mouth over hers and try to draw out her anxiety, her worry, the after-effects of what she went through.
How shaken she must be; I can only imagine. "You’re okay," I whisper against her mouth in between kisses. "You’re okay.” I lick the tears off her cheeks and she snorts.
"What are you doing?" She half chuckles, half cries.
"Trying to make you feel better."
She twists her fingers into the front of my shirt and her ring catches on the cloth. I unhook the threads, then raise her hand to my mouth and kiss her ring.
"Luca," she breathes.
"When I thought you’d been hit…" I shake my head. "It was horrible. I painted all kinds of scenarios in my head getting to you. If something had happened to you..." I press my forehead to hers. "I wouldn’t have been able to live."
"I’m sorry for scaring you." She hiccups. "Someone shot at Olivia. Someone shot at her while she was on stage, someone who—"
"Thought she was you," I say in a hard voice.
She glances at me, then away. "I thought… I thought." She bites down on her lower lip. Instantly, a flurry of heat zings down to my groin. My cock throbs. I try not to move, for fear she’ll realize exactly what her actions are doing to me.
"What did you think?" I ask.
"I thought you had someone shoot at her," she finally admits.
"Why would I do that?" I frown.
"Because you knew how disappointed I was about losing the lead role."
"Do you think I'm that heartless, that I’d get someone to shoot your friend?"
"I—" She refuses to meet my gaze. "I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to believe it, but you have to admit, considering you’re a Mafia guy and this is your town..." She raises her shoulder.
"You thought I’d have your friend shot so you could take her place?"
"You didn’t, did you?"
"Look at me, Angel."
She doesn’t move.
"Look. At. Me." I infuse enough command into my tone that she turns her head. She raises her gaze to mine.
"I would never hurt you or anyone who’s close to you. I’d never do anything to cause you grief. I’d kill myself before I’d do that. And if anyone dares to come after you or anyone you care about, I—"
"You’ll kill that person?" Her gaze hardens.
I blow out a breath. "You’re putting words in my mouth, but yes, I’d kill that person, okay?"
"So, you’d answer violence with violence? How long can you keep doing this without it coming back to haunt you? Don’t you realize your way of life is going to backfire on you? Every time you use a gun, it’s another bullet with your name on it that’s being fired. Can’t you see how you’re hurting yourself by living by violence?"
"It’s all I know."
"It doesn’t need to be. You can find a way to put this behind you, and—"