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My chest filled with relief as Valentino’s eyes widened, and he sputtered, staring at where it protruded from his chest.
“You took my whole family,” she snarled, plunging it deeper into his chest and pushing him back. He stumbled back a step, one of his hands wrapping around hers where it held the hilt. “I won’t let you take anything else.”
I finally slouched, allowing my shoulders to go loose as his knees buckled, and he fell to the floor. Sienna didn’t remove the blade, though. Instead, she twisted it, and he screamed, his eyes going dark. His scream was feral, but he wouldn’t come back from a wound like that, and he knew it.
He moved before I could remember that another threat lay between them—a much more deadly one. I lunged forward, just in time to watch Valentino lift the gun in trembling hands and pull the trigger.
I shoved his hand away and slammed my fist into his cheek, but not before Sienna cried out, clutching her stomach.
37
Sienna
Everything moved fast enough that there was no time to consider what was happening around me. I’d lost a lot of blood before the gunshot wound, and the darkness that had been seeping into the corners of my vision only deepened the moment the bullet went through my stomach.
But somehow, I stayed conscious through it all.
I stayed awake as Dante carried me from the compound, ignoring the gunfire all around us, and tucked me into a large sedan. I stared at the beige roof of the car as it drove away swiftly, leaving me alone to my thoughts.
I felt every poke and prod from frantic nurses who tried asking all the necessary questions, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer them. They found my most injured areas on their own. I wasn’tneeded in the conversations as I stared at the linoleum light above the ER bed, flinching each time someone touched me.
I told them about the pregnancy, and that was all.
The heartbeat was there.
That was all I needed to hear.
I knew that with Valentino out of the picture, Dante and Bria would be okay. That was all that mattered.
I’d killed Valentino.
He’d killed both my parents, and I’d killed him for it.
It didn’t feel like enough—not nearly enough for all the things he’d done to me and all the people around me. I should have made it slower and more painful. A knife to the chest wasn’t close to what he deserved, but it would have to be. It was the only thing I could do.
The truths he’d revealed swirled through my mind and distracted me from the pain of needles and prodding.
It was both a relief and a curse to know the truth about what had happened. I didn’twantto know. But I needed to.
I needed to know the truth, and maybe now I could finally move on.
***
“I’m fine,” I said the moment Dante was wheeled into the room, Bria at his side. He looked me up and down as if assessing me for lies. I only raised my brows at the glare. “You need patching up, still. What the hell are you doing in here?”
“I told them I’d check myself out if they didn’t put me in here with you.”
The older woman behind him rolled her eyes as she clicked the wheelchair locks into place. “If it’s still difficult to patch you up in here, we’re going to sedate you,” she chastised.
Dante ignored the nurse as he continued assessing me. “You don’t have a cast on your arm yet,” he said. “Why the fuck aren’t you fixed?”
“They have to get the ultrasound machine in here and check the baby first,” I told him. His eyes widened, almost as if remembering it wasn’t just me who could be hurt. “They found a strong and consistent heartbeat, but they need to get imaging to check the rest. They stopped the bleeding, but they need to assess the internal damage before surgery. I already got an X-ray, but I need more than that.”
“You need surgery?” he asked.
I nodded. “But I’ll be fine.”
I didn’t mention the throbbing pain in my arm and left hand or the way I wasn’t sure if I’d have functioning fingers for the rest of my life. I’d need a lot more recovery than just surgery, but I survived, and that was the most important thing right now.
