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"No deaths," Luca says slowly. "It may have been an oversight. Clearly, the drone intended to kill."
"But no one died," I snap.
Massimo and Luca exchange looks.
"He has a point. Fabio is the police commissioner; he’s not a fool. If he was behind the attacks, what stopped him from completing what he started? Doesn’t that simply put him in a dangerous position?" Massimo finally offers.
"I agree with Massimo." Adrian turns to Luca. "The attack may have started with the intention of killing, but for some reason, that didn’t happen."
"Also, she wasn’t hurt," Luca interjects. "All of you were injured and she— Not a scratch on her, despite the fact that she was right there with you when the shooting started."
Silence descends on the room. The pain in my shoulder turns up a notch. My stomach cramps, and I’m sure I’m going to be sick. I swallow down the bile, and glare at Luca. "I want to speak to my wife."
Luca hesitates.
"She married me; she is under my protection," I remind him.
Luca firms his lips. "She will not be harmed; you have my word," he finally offers.
"Not that I don’t believe you, but..." I set my jaw. "I. Want. To. See. Her."
35
Elsa
I run my palm down the fabric of my dress. Why am I sweating? I didn’t do anything wrong. Whatever I did was to protect my child. It’s what any mother would have done.
And you almost got him killed.I raise my hand to knock on the door of the hospital room, then pause. I flatten my palm against the door instead. My husband’s in there. Is he still my husband, after everything that happened, or is this like the shortest marriage in history? No, that accomplishment belongs to Britney Spears and Jason Alexander, who were married for fifty-five hours. And didn’t a couple in Kuwait stay married for just three minutes? And why are these random facts popping into my head? No doubt, it’s Summer’s influence. Not only was she a movie buff but she also loved to quote random trivia facts, something which rubbed off on me. It's also where my Keanu Reeves obsession comes from.
We lost touch when I married Fabio, and while I feel lucky to have met Theresa, the fact is, she married into theCosa Nostra, as well. If only I could speak to someone like Summer, who has nothing to do with this life. Maybe that would provide some perspective on my situation. She must be very busy though, for the last I heard, she’s happily married to Sinclair Sterling, once the most notorious playboy in London; now, by all accounts, her loyal husband. I saw a photo of them in the tabloids, where one of the paparazzi had clicked them attending a Christmas party at one of their friend’s places. They both seemed very happy, hand-in-hand, big smiles on their faces.
No, it wouldn’t do to disturb her.
"Elsa," Massimo says gently from behind me, "you ready to see him?"
No.
No.
"Yes," I nod.
He reaches over and knocks on the door. "Go on," he says in an encouraging tone, "I know he’s looking forward to seeing you."
I take a deep breath. Here goes. I push the door open and enter. My gaze is instantly drawn to the man on the bed. His shoulder is swathed in bandages, and his left arm is in a sling that goes around his neck. The bandages are stark white against the tan of his skin. His big body dwarfs the bed. Surrounded by the white sheets, he seems so out of place there.You put him there. It’s your fault he was hit. Your fault he’s hurting now.
He watches me with a brooding gaze as I move toward him. My knees tremble, but I force myself to put one foot in front of the other. I come to a halt in front of him. This close, I can see the dark circles under his eyes; the hollows under his cheekbones are more pronounced than I remember. There are new creases radiating out from the edges of his eyes that I don’t recall. Somehow, that only adds to his sexiness. Even wrapped in bandages, he’s the most virile man I’ve ever met. I’ll never love anyone else like I do him. And I lost him. The band around my chest tightens, a ball of emotion twists my stomach with such force that I am sure I am going to be sick.
"Seb," I clear my throat, "Seb, I’m so sorry."
His features harden, then he firms his lips. He peers into my features as if searching for something. He holds my watery gaze, and I want to look away. I try to lower my eyelids and not allow him to search through my emotions, but I can’t. I owe him this. I stare into those golden-brown orbs of his, now dulled with pain. A pain that I caused. My stomach hurts. My knees tremble. I grab the back of a chair and steady myself.
"Seb… Avery… I…"
"I forgive you."
"What?" I gape.
"You’re a mother first, Elsa. You’d do anything to protect your child. It’s the first thing I noticed about you. How you’d hold her close and never take your gaze off of her when you were with her. And more than anything, I wanted that. I wanted your attention just as focused on me, to the exclusion of anything else. The fact that you could put her before anything else, even yourself… It’s that complete selflessness that drew me to you. How can I now blame you for following that instinct? How can I hate you for putting your child first, when it was that very quality that drew me to you?"
