Page 104 of Brutal Heir
“Okay,” I breathe, barely able to speak through the lump in my throat.
“If anything ever happens to me?—”
“No,” I cut him off. “Don’t you dare. Don’t say it.”
“I need to say it,” he insists, cupping my face in both hands. “Promise me you’ll run. Go to Matteo. Go to my father. But don’t you ever stay for me.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I snap, tears now welling despite the adrenaline.
The city wails around us, a twisted Christmas carol of screams and sirens, and still, he looks at me like I’m the only thing tethering him to earth.
“I love you, Rory.” He blurts the words suddenly, fiercely. Like it’s the only truth that matters. “I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve confessed how deeply you’ve sunk into my bones, my very being. But I’m telling you now.”
I’m stunned. Shaking. The world spins and narrows to the scarred man in front of me who just dropped his heart in my lap like it’s nothing. Like it’s everything.
And the words sink into me like another bullet, sharp, staggering, and impossible. But as I look at him, more alive than anyone I’ve ever known… I know they’re true. And I know mine are too.
“I love you too, Alessandro,” I whisper, brushing my lips to his. “And that means I’m not going anywhere. I’m not running this time.”
His breath shudders out, relief mingled with fear. His forehead presses to mine.
Then another voice crackles across the avenue. “Clear! NYPD!”
“Merda, we have to go.”
Blue and red lights flash across Central Park as cops swarm the scene, and Alessandro’s hand tugs me from the alleyway, stepping in front of me again, protective to the end.
As we disappear within the frenzied masses, a flash of crimson blooming across the lapel of his coat sends my heart into overdrive.
“Shite, Alessandro, you’re bleeding!” I haul him to a stop, but he grits his teeth shaking his head.
“We have to keep moving. It’s just a flesh wound, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re bleeding,” I insist, fear and darkness edging into the corners of my vision.
“And you’re a nurse, right? You’ll stitch me up as soon as we get home.”
He tows me along beside him until we’re swallowed up into the crowd, but I can’t keep my eyes away from the deep crimson blossoming along his dark coat.
I don’t need his protection right now. I just need him.
And whoever tried to take him from me? They’ve just declared war on the wrong woman.
“You’re really wearing kitten scrubs to patch up the Gemini heir?” Alessandro is splayed across the bed, bare from his boxers up, his good shoulder torn up from where the bullet grazed him.
I’m barely holding it together, pretending my hands aren’t trembling and that my heart isn’t faltering. So I put on the practiced smile and slip into my bedside manner. “Don’t like it? Bleed somewhere else,” I tease, but the snark doesn’t come out right.
He grins, and my hands grow a little steadier.
“I’m fine, Red. The bullet barely grazed my shoulder. What’s another scar to add to the masterpiece?”
A rueful chuckle tumbles out, despite the tightness in my throat. I try to focus on stitching up the wound, but the fear I felt for Alessandro when we were being shot at still claws at my heart.
And the confessions…
Does he even remember telling me he loves me? Or was it just something said in the heat of the moment? I meant every word, but I’m not sure I would have admitted it if our lives hadn’t been on the line.
A tear spills over, and I sweep it away with the back of my hand, hissing out an angry curse.
