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Nico
“Anya!” I yell into my headset. “Anya, are you moving?” I run my hands over my hair and face like I have for the last hour since she’s been in there. All I could hear was her yelling. Then it stopped. I hope someone grabbed her. Fuck.
I hop out of the van, and just as I’m about to run in, I see some soldiers make it out of the building, sprinting to the vehicles. Enzo and a few others are next. When I see Bash come out next without Anya, I charge them up and push against Bash’s chest.
“WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE? TELL ME YOU DIDN’T LEAVE HER!” I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.
“Calm the fuck down, Nico. We wouldn’t leave her! She’s right behind us!” Bash yells, pushing me right back.
I look over his shoulder, and I see...the restaurant owner? He’s carrying her, and she’s fighting for dear life. I relax for only about a second, then I look around. She was arguing with her brother a minute ago.
“Dominic?” I ask.
Enzo locks eyes with mine, face stone, and shakes his head cautiously.
Fuck.
Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Anya loves her brother. I heard her say that she was staying over the earpiece. I didn’t know what she meant. Fuck. She was going to die with him.
Ming heads straight to me and hands her over as if she weighs nothing. She wraps her arms and legs around me. I pull her close, and she lets out a gut-wrenching sob. Her entire body shakes as she screams and fights for air.
“We need to move. Now!” Bash commands.
I sprint back into the van as she sobs into my shoulder. I notice she has a stab wound in her left shoulder that will need to be treated.
The ground shakes. Anya looks up, but I turn around, so her back is to the scene and push her head back down to my shoulder, not wanting her to see the building cave into itself. She lets out another cry. I can’t help her. I don’t know what I’d do if one of my brothers was still down there.
We all load into the vehicles. Just as we’re about to drive off, I notice three more soldiers making their way.
“Everyone head out. There’s a few more coming, but we’ll get them,” Franco says into his headpiece.
I notice two of them are carrying a blond man on what looks like a large piece of metal. My heart lifts for a second, but I keep Anya’s head down. I don’t want to say anything to give her hope. She’s still crying into my shoulder as I hold her. They get closer, and I see it’s Dominic, face ashen, his leg fucked up. But he’s alive. Hell, I never thought I’d live to see the day, but I thanked God for Dominic Violante being alive.
Anya
It’s been two days since killing my uncle. I don’t feel any remorse. The sick, greedy bastard deserved a much slower death than the one I gave him.
I try not to dwell on it. I’m grateful we all survived. Dom survived. I thought I lost a part of my soul that day when Dom didn’t come out of the building with me. When Nico said his name, I lifted my head, and I almost didn’t believe it. At least not until I ran over to him and touched his face myself.
Dom’s currently healing in one of the guest bedrooms. The doctors say his leg is crushed, and he had to undergo a very long surgery, but he’ll make a full recovery. We’re back in New York, at Nico’s—ourtwo-story penthouse. My arm is in a sling from when the bastard stabbed me. He didn’t hit anything vital. I readjust to get more comfortable and let out a small groan of discomfort.
“Are you okay?” Nico asks, sitting up straight. He hasn’t let me out of his sight and is treating me like I’m made of glass. I swear he ages by the minute with worry.
“Babe, my injuries aren’t life-threatening. I’m just trying to get comfortable.”
“Do you need water? Painkillers?”
He’s been hovering, and as much as it drives me crazy, I let him. I know it makes him feel better, and I love watching him care for me. But I need to calm him down before he gives himself a stroke.
“Babe, for the millionth time, I’m fine. I was just moving around. I can’t sit like a statue all day.”
“I was not cut out for this marriage shit,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, leaning back against the headboard.
He’s so damn dramatic.
“Why do you say that?” I ask him, trying not to laugh.
“It’s too damn stressful. Especially when your wife is a magnet for trouble,” he says as he moves on to rub his temples. I can’t help but laugh at him.
