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"Call Stefano," I beg, trying to reach for her hand again. "Call him..."
"Mrs. Carlisi, you have to leave. You have to leave now," someone guides Rosalie out.
No... she needs to call Stef–
"Blood pressure's dropping," another doctor mutters, his tone tense as he reads the monitor. "We need to get her into surgery now."
"Stefano..." I whisper again, desperate to remember what he said before all this chaos began. His beautiful face, the one I've held in my hands so many times, haunts the edges of my consciousness, but his words remain elusive.
They lift me onto another bed, strapping me down as the machines beep and whir around me. The surgeon appears, his face unreadable behind the mask as he nods to his team.
"Isabella Torres, gunshot wound to the abdomen," he says, glancing at my chart before looking back at me. "We're going to do our best, but you need to fight, too."
"Administering anesthesia now," the anesthesiologist announces, and I feel a cold sensation in my arm as the medicine begins to take effect. The room starts to blur and spin.
Once more I search for strength in the memory of Stefano. Suddenly, a memory arrives. His anger, flaring.‘If I ever see you again, I swear I'll kill you myself‘An unbearable ache floods my being.
Worse than the gunshot wound, worse than having my father die in my arms, worse than seeing the news of my mother’s death on the news when I was just eight years old.
Only a single cry echoes through my mind: Stefano.
"Remember to breathe, Isabella," the nurse reminds me one last time before the darkness claims me completely.
Lost in the depths of darkness, I find myself in a dimly lit room, the air heavy with desire. My eyes search for him, knowing who must be waiting for me there. And then, like a magnet drawn to its match, my gaze locks with Stefano's dark eyes – intense, full of longing.
"Isabella," he breathes, his voice a sultry whisper that sends shivers down my spine. He moves closer, his tall, powerful frame commanding my attention as every inch of my body yearns for his touch.
"Stefano," I gasp, reaching out to him. My fingers graze his jawline, and the electricity between us sets my skin ablaze. He leans into my touch, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again to meet mine – a silent plea.
"Please," I murmur, unable to resist the fire that burns within me. "I need you."
With a growl of pure passion, Stefano gathers me up into his strong arms, pressing his lips to mine with a fervor that leaves me breathless. Our bodies meld together as he sheds off my clothes. He kisses my neck and gives it a little nip, before fondling my breasts.
"Isabella," Stefano groans, his grip on me tightening. "You're everything I've ever wanted, and more."
"I love you," I admit, the words tumbling from my lips without hesitation. It's the truth – a truth I've been too afraid to face until now. But wrapped in Stefano's embrace, I feel invincible, alive.
"Ti amo, Isabella," he whispers back, sealing our promise with another soul-searing kiss.
The ecstasy of our connection overwhelms me, and I cling to Stefano as if he's the anchor keeping me from drowning. He pushes me against the wall, spreads open my legs, lifts me against himself, inching into me.
I can feel his cock fill me, and I want it deeper, harder. We move together, lost in our passion, and for once, it feels like everything will be okay.
"Isabella." The voice is distant, barely a whisper in my ear. "Isabella, can you hear me?"
The cold air of the hospital room brushes against my skin, and I shiver involuntarily. My eyes flutter open, the harsh fluorescent light overhead blinding me for a moment.
I'm fully conscious now, the haze of anesthesia and dreams slowly dissipating. My hand instinctively reaches out for Stefano, but finds only empty space.
His words echo in my head, like a haunting melody: "I never want to see you again."
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over. That was only just a dream. How did we end up like this? We were once so deeply in love, and now... Now, he's gone, and I'm here – broken, alone, and unsure of what comes next.
"Isabella?" My eyelids flutter as I try to focus on the doctor finding a kind but somber expression. Rosalie follows closely behind him, her eyes filled with concern. "How are you feeling?"
"Where is Stefano?" I ask instead, my voice cracking as the tears spill down my cheeks.
Rosalie approaches hesitantly, pulling a chair closer to my bedside. She takes my hand gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He's not here, Isabella," she says softly, avoiding my gaze.
