Page 61 of Devil’s Azalea (Nightshades #3)

RAFAEL

If she hadn’t stepped back at that exact moment, that bullet would have torn straight through her heart instead of her side. The thought sends ice-cold terror shooting down my spine, weakening my knees even as I sprint towards my wife’s crumpled form on the makeshift stage.

After the two shots directed at Emilia and Katie, the shooters bolted from the conference room. But I trust my brothers to hunt them down and tear them apart. My only focus is the woman lying motionless in a spreading pool of her own blood.

My knees skid across the wooden floor as I drop beside her, shaking her fiercely. “Emilia! Emilia! ” I’m probably too rough, but I need those honey eyes to open. I need proof she’s still here.

She jerks awake with a sharp gasp, eyes snapping wide, and dizzying relief floods through me. I scoop her into my arms, cradling her against my chest.

She’s alive. She’s breathing. She’s ? —

“I don’t know how they got past security,” Enzo’s voice cuts through my focus as he appears behind me with several of my men. “It was locked down tight. They must have posed as reporters, they–”

I shoulder past him without a word, not interested in his inadequate fucking excuses. Not when my wife is bleeding out in my arms.

Emilia winces, and when I look down at her, my heartbeat ceases. She’s going pale, so pale. The blood—Christ, she’s losing too much blood .

“Your jacket. Now,” I bark at one of my men as we push through the conference room doors.

He strips it off without question, but I realize immediately that I can’t stop the bleeding while carrying her—not without jostling her more than I already am. The thought of causing her more pain makes my stomach revolt.

“Press it against her wound,” I order him. “Hard. Don’t let up.”

The moment we step outside the hotel, reporters swarm us again, and what feels like a million camera bulbs go off at once. “ Get the fuck out of my way! ” I bellow, crazed with fury when they block my path.

When they hesitate, Enzo whips out his gun, and they scatter instantly.

Maximo is already holding the car door open when we reach it, his face tight with worry as he stares down at Emilia. “I called the hospital. They’re ready for you.”

I slide into the backseat, immediately taking over pressure duty on her wound while Enzo guns the engine. The car lurches forward, tires squealing.

Emilia’s breathing turns shallow and wheezy, and when I look down, her eyes are starting to flutter closed. No. Absolutely not. She can’t fall asleep.

Despite not wanting to hurt her, I shake her until she gasps and her eyes snap back open. “Stay with me, piccola . You need to stay awake.” I glance at Enzo. “Go faster! ”

My heart thunders in my chest, my breath sawing in and out of my lungs painfully. I’m going to gut every single bastard responsible for this.

“K–Katie?” Emilia’s voice is barely there.

Fuck, I’d completely forgotten about that bitch. My gaze slips to Pierre in the passenger seat.

“Mr. Lombardi has her,” he reports.

“She’s being taken care of,” I tell her, and some of the tension leaves her face. But her eyes are drooping again, and I give her another shake. If she falls into a coma— “Stay awake!”

“B–but… I’m so tired.” Her words come out in slurs. “So tired… Just… want to rest my eyes… Just… a minute.”

No. No, no, no.

“No!” I press harder on her wound, and she lets out a pained groan that breaks something in my chest. “Talk to me. Tell me what the hell that press conference was about. How could you risk your life like that?”

She looks up at me with honey eyes so soft, my breath snags in my throat. “It was… the only way to stop… Stacey. T–the only way I could protect… you.”

“But you love Stacey.”

“T–turns out… I love you more.” A tear slides down her temple. “And she’s–she’s been trying to have me killed.”

My brows draw together, my heart clenching as I stare down at her. I file away her second confession of love for later. “How did you find out?”

“F–found out a lot of things, Rafael,” she mumbles, blinking slowly. “I know everything that happened… ten years ago… with my dad. Romero told me.”

So that’s what they were doing at the courthouse. That son of a bitch. I’m going to kill him. Obviously, I already knew she knew—she’d laid it all out during that fucking press conference. What I didn’t know was how she found out. “Keep talking. ”

“K–Katie gave me… the video I played today. St–Stacey had been threatening her… to spy on me. She felt… horrible. Needed to pay me back. So during that meeting last week… she secretly recorded them. Even–even if it meant… she lost her little sister.”

Her little sister? Was Stacey using her sister against her? “You shouldn’t have risked your life like that. I hate that you put yourself in danger.”

“It’s okay, Rafael.” Her voice grows weaker.

“Couldn’t protect Dad... but I p–protected you.

Just like… you’ve been protecting… me. That’s what you do when…

you l–love someone. Even–” Her breath shudders, and her eyes slip closed for a terrifying second before she forces them open again. “Even if they don’t love you b-back.”

My fingers tighten on her body. “And who the hell said I don’t love you back? I feel so much for you it scares me to death. Why do you think I rushed our wedding? I couldn’t risk you changing your mind and backing out. Couldn't let you go.”

A heart-wrenching smile blooms on her face. “Are you–are you saying that because–” She swallows weakly. “Because I’m dying?”

“ NO! ” The word explodes from me. “No,” I repeat a little more calmly.

Cold sweat rolls down my body, and I glance out the window desperately.

“You’re not dying, amorina . Never . I’m not going to let you go that easily after I finally have you.

We’re almost at the hospital. I only said what I should have told you last night. ”

“I feel… so weird. My side was hurting… and now… nothing. Like I’m numb and… floating.”

Paralyzing terror claws up my spine. Numbness isn’t good. Floating isn’t good. I apply more pressure on her side and bark at Enzo to go faster. Why the fuck is this taking so long to get there?

Emilia lifts a trembling hand up to my face. “D–don’t look so sad. Makes my heart hurt.” Then her hand falls limp to her side, which makes her frown, like she doesn’t understand why she can’t lift it again.

Hot drops of sweat drip down my face. No, not sweat— tears . “I love you.” My voice is a tight whisper. “I love you, Emilia. Stay with me. Please .”

“I thought you never beg.” She manages a weak tease, but her voice is fading and her lips are turning blue.

I tighten my grip on her like that would somehow anchor her to this world, to me.

“I’m begging you now, Emilia. Don’t leave me. Or I’ll follow you after I burn this entire fucking city to the ground,” I vow darkly, and her brows furrow.

But we’re finally pulling into the hospital, racing down towards the emergency department where I can see the doctors already waiting for us with a stretcher and medical equipment.

When I look down, Emilia’s eyes have slipped shut, and this time when I shake her, she doesn’t respond.

A raw, anguished roar fills the car just as we screech to a stop and the doors fly open. The burning in my throat tells me that sound came from me.

“She’s lost consciousness,” I say numbly as I place her on the stretcher. “She’s lost consciousness.”

The doctors nod grimly and push me out of the way.

One climbs onto the moving stretcher to place an oxygen mask over her nose and attach wires to her body.

I jog alongside them through the hospital corridors, watching the monitor that shows her vital signs, trying to read the lines and numbers that will tell me if she’s going to live or die.

And then—sliding doors.

When I attempt to follow, a nurse stops me with a gentle but firm hand on my chest. “Wait out here.”

I stand there, paralyzed, my breathing ragged. I lift my hand to shove it through my hair and freeze when I see how red and wet it is. Blood. Her blood.

My legs give out, and I collapse onto the cold hospital floor, burying my bloodstained fingers in my hair.

Please. God. The universe. Anything out there. I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. I can’t fucking lose her.

A hand lands on my shoulder. “She’ll be fine,” Maximo’s voice, steady and reassuring. “She’s a strong woman.”

A commotion erupts behind us, and I lift my head up, glancing back to see Romero charging through the entrance, shouting for a doctor with a limp figure in his arms.

It’s Katie.

Some nurses and a doctor rush to meet him, and I turn back to stare at the surgery doors, my heart pounding.

“Rafael.” It’s Enzo. “I just got off the call with a reporter from the Times. You need to see this article.” He shoves his phone in my face, and I squint at the screen. The words are a blur, shifting around. Why can’t I read? Why are the words swimming?

Someone presses a handkerchief into my hand. “Wipe your eyes.” Michael.

I do as he says, and the text comes into focus. With an aching heart, I read the article about the heroic former agent who exposed FBI corruption and changed everything.

“They’re calling Emilia the whistleblower of our time,” Enzo says, a note of pride clear in his voice. “And the picture of you carrying her out of the hotel has gone viral. Everyone is calling you a hero.”

I know that’s a good development, but I couldn’t give a shit about the public perception of me right now.

“There are crowds gathering outside the hospital with get-well-soon signs for Emilia,” he continues. “They’ve made a shrine for her.”

Despite everything, my heart tightens with a different kind of emotion. She would love that. She would love knowing that people care, that her sacrifice meant something.

Footsteps approach, and I look up to see Dante, Maximo’s right-hand man, wearing a wide grin. “The Russians, Stacey, and her accomplices have been arrested.”

“What about the men who shot my wife?” I demand. I swear to God if they were also arrested, I’ll break them out of their cells just so I can kill them myself.

“We’ve got them,” Enzo says, his grin matching Dante’s as he looks up from his phone. “Just got a text from Lucien. They’re taking them to the warehouse.”

I surge to my feet and spin towards the hospital entrance, my hands already curling into fists.

“Where are you going?!” Maximo calls out.

“I have some vermin to exterminate,” I answer as Enzo falls into step next to me.

I could use the outlet of gutting out their entrails while the doctors work to save my wife.