Page 106 of Of Lies and Shadows

“She would want it to be you,” Bruno says quietly.

I turn to him, my jaw tight, eyes burning. “He’s scared.”

“I know,” Bruno answers. “So is she. But she’s unconscious. And if she wakes up, she’ll want you. She’ll need to see you there.”

The medics are calling again, louder this time. One foot in the ambulance, one still on the pavement. I look down at my son, then at my once enemy. At my fucking heartbeat in pieces.

Bruno meets my gaze. “Trust me with him,” he says. “She loves him.” A pause. “And I love her.”

It’s not a threat, just the truth I needed to hear.

I nod once sharply. “If anything happens?—”

“I’ll die before I let it,” Bruno swears.

I let go of Alessio’s hand gently. He clutches Bruno’s arm instead, blinking back tears.

“I’ll be back,” I whisper. “I swear it.”

Then I turn and climb into the ambulance just as the doors slam shut behind me. I barely hear the engine roar to life. All I can see is her, pale, too still, tubes and wiresalready tangled around her limbs.

I take her hand, and it’s limp in mine. Cold… too cold.

I lift it to my mouth and press a kiss to the back of it. “Francesca,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “God, baby… your hand is freezing.”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t stir.

The medic checks her pulse again, calling out numbers I can’t understand over the blood roaring in my ears.

I press her hand to my chest. “Stay with me. You hear me? Stay.”

My thumb strokes over her knuckles, blue-tinted now, and I can’t stop the shaking. My breathing’s gone shallow, ragged. I don't care. Nothing matters except her eyes opening again.

Please, just open your eyes.

The hospital comes into view in a blur of red lights and sirens.

When we stop, the doors burst open, and the paramedics rush to pull her out. I go to follow, but a nurse holds me back, firm but kind. “You can’t come into surgery, sir. Please?—”

“No. No, no, no?—”

“You’ll see her after. I promise.”

I fight her hold until I realize I’m wasting time. Precious time. So I lean down over her still body, her curls matted with blood, her lips too pale.

I kiss her forehead gently.

“Fight, my love,” I whisper, my tears hitting her skin. “Fight your way back to me. I swear to god… if you come back to me, I’ll let you go.” My voice breaks entirely. I grip her hand tighter. “I’ll sign the divorce papers. I’ll set you free. I’ll never ask you to stay, not even one more day. But please…” My head drops to her chest. “Please just live.”

They pull her away. And as I watch the doors swing shut behind the gurney, something shatters in me.

I know, without question, that if she doesn’t come back… my heart won’t survive this. Not really, not ever.

The waitingroom feels like hell dressed in white paint and disinfectant.

I can’t sit. I’ve worn a path into the hospital floor, pacing, fists clenched at my sides, her blood dried on my shirt.

I hear footsteps, and when I turn, Vito’s already halfway down the hallway, face pale, eyes wide with questions.

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