Page 158 of Gorgeous Villain (Marchetti Mafia)

Gigi and Amara are safe.

Just as I think that, I’m reminded of my dead mother on the floor. A heaviness hits me, guilt weighing down my body.

So many lives lost.

For what?

Yet none of those lives are Sonny’s. I need to fix that, pronto.

“Riposa in pace,” I whisper, kneeling at my mother’s side to shut her eyes, careful not to get blood on my shoes.

When I glance up, I find Damien stepping toward me.

“I’ll take care of her body,” he says as I rise to my feet. He doesn’t pay her one glance.

“Don’t throw her over a cliff.” I’m not joking.

His face fills with disappointment. “No disrespect, but she doesn’t deserve a decent burial.”

I scrub a hand over my face, smearing blood along with it—a reminder that I was shot.

My brain is so fucking scattered because who doesn’t remember a bullet hitting them?

Bruno shot me while I was following Billy and Sonny, but that didn’t stop me from chasing them. Unfortunately, the bastards got away.

Today wasn’t the first time someone shot me, and I’m sure it’ll happen again. The bullet was a simple graze, nothing serious. I just need to be bandaged up.

“Have Julian take her to Harold,” I instruct Damien. “Get a blanket to cover her up and then get her out of here ASAP. I don’t want Amara seeing her.”

Harold is the city coroner, and since he owes the casino debt, he agrees to all favors asked of him.

Damien salutes me and drags his phone from his pocket.

I speed-walk toward Amara’s bedroom, wiping my hand on my blazer while calling her name. Since the day she was born, I swore to shield her from the depravity of this world. But now, I’ve thrown her straight into it—when it’s more dangerous than ever.

“In here,” Eden calls out from the closet.

I open the door to find them squeezed in the corner, surrounded by a tipped-over basket and clothes. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at the sight of Amara. My sweet girl’s face and eyes are puffy, and her cheeks are tearstained. Shejumps out of Eden’s hold and straight into my arms, clinging to me. I’ve never held her so tight in my life.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I say, rubbing her back with one hand and cupping her head with the other. “You’re safe. I promise, and I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

She sobs into my shoulder, her tears soaking my shirt alongside the blood. I frown, realizing I didn’t change my clothes before coming to her. But she was my top priority. I needed to see my daughter safe and sound.

My gaze lowers to Eden while she crawls out from the closet.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

She runs a hand over her hair and sighs loudly. “I need to call Dante.”

When Amara finally releases herself from me, I tenderly wipe the tears off her cheeks.

I drop to one knee so we’re face level and collect her hands in mine. “I need you to stay in here until I tell you to come out, all right?”

A flash of panic crosses her face, and she grips my hands tighter.

“It’s okay, Amara,” Eden says. “I’ll stay in here with you, okay? And let’s change into some clothes that don’t have the red paint Daddy was using while he was gone.”

I squeeze her hands and bring them to my lips. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

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