Page 141 of Wounded King

Waspo looks uncomfortable and guilty.

He clears his throat, "Your mind is still a little hazy from the anesthesia and the morphine, it's perfectly normal to?—"

"Why is he still alive?" I turn to Marcello, whose face lights up with amusement.

"You wanted me not to kill him, remember?" He reminds me. Slowly, I return to myself and swallow hard.

"I'm sorry."

Marcello laughs, "Don't be. I'll do whatever you want me to do."

Waspo blanches, and the nurse hurries out.

Waspo clears his throat again, regaining his composure. "You were lucky, Violet. The bullet only grazed your head, but you lost quite a bit of blood and have a moderate to severe concussion. We'll keep you here for a few days and?—"

I ignore him, fully focused on Marcello, "I want to go home."

"Violet," he shakes his head, "I think you should listen?—"

"You didn't," I accuse. "As a matter of fact, you only waited a day before you left the hospital after you had titanium implanted into your skull." My voice rises slightly with my aggravation. But I really do want to go home. I want to see Felix. I want to lie in our bed. I want to be alone with Marcello.

Doctor Waspo walks over to my morphine pump, "Don't you dare push that," I warn.

He looks at Marcello, who gives him a slight nod. Traitor!

And then the world around me fades into haziness again.

"I don't like you," I mumble, unsure if I mean Waspo or Marcello.

"I love you," Marcello replies with a smile in his voice.

A few days later…

Margarita has had a few days to enjoy the accommodations on my yacht, while being watched by my best men. Most of that time was spent out on the ocean to eliminate any of her chances of escape. I heard she's been quite seasick, which eases my lust for her blood somewhat.

I haven't been able to deal with her yet. I don't want to leave Violet's side, and Doctor Waspo and Doctor Brown both thought it better to keep her a couple of days for observation. Her violent outburst toward Waspo worried me, but both doctors assured me that every patient reacts differently to anesthesia and a traumatic head wound. Thankfully, they were right. The next time Violet woke up, she was all my Violet again.

She's finally home, but I still don't have time to deal with Margarita, because Edoardo has called an emergency meeting. I hate leaving her, even for a few hours, but Doc Brown will stay with her, and so will Zia Rosa and several guards.

"Call me if anything changes," I order Alejandro, whom I'm leaving in charge of security since Luciano will have to accompany me.

"We'll be fine," Violet says from the bed. She's sitting up, propped on a mound of pillows, with Felix curled at her side and her laptop open in front of her. She finally got clearance for short amounts of screen time, and she's making the most of it.

She makes a shooing motion with her hand and forces a smile to her lips. I can tell she's not liking the idea of our separation, either, the first we've had since she awakened in the hospital.

"Boss?" Luciano nudges me.

"Fine!" I give Violet another kiss. "Ti amo."

She smiles sweetly, a smile I've never seen before I started telling her about my feelings, one I now make sure to see several times a day.

Zia Rosa looks like she just swallowed an entire brick of chocolate—slow, sweet, and utterly overwhelmed. Her smile is wide and syrupy, and her hand flutters over her ample bosom like her heart might actually give out from happiness.

"I love you, too. Now go! Shoo. Pippa will be here soon, and we have some online shopping to do."

Fuck, I really love this woman.

"All right. Make sure to spend a lot of money."