Page 50 of Stolen Bride for the Don

HUDSON

A shock that sends me staggering before I hit a wall and slide to the floor. Andrea screams my name, crouching next to me, her blue eyes filled with terror. Men shout as they try to apprehend the culprit; the soft sound of a gun with a silencer goes off again. I grab Andrea’s shoulders and roll her beneath me, wincing when my arm throbs painfully.

“What are you doing?” she snaps, putting her hands on my shoulders.

“Stay still,” I murmur into her ear. Normally, despite being shot, I would be off my feet by now and in the middle of the fray with my men. But I don’t know how many shooters there are, and I don’t want to risk her getting hit by any strays. “Just stay still,” I repeat.

My hands become fists on either side of Andrea’s head as anger pumps through me. How dare someone shoot me in my house. My house. Her hands slip to my waist, and she holds me to her. “Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Fine,” I grit out. My arm hurts like a motherfucker; the way I’m lying over her makes the blood gush faster. I’m starting to get lightheaded.

“You don’t sound good.” Her voice is laced with concern, so I glance at her face. She’s chewing her lip anxiously, giving me a look of concern. Would you look at that? She’s worried about me?

Before I can tease her, someone enters the ballroom, and my head snaps up; my uninjured arm is reaching for the holster at my waist. I relax when I see it’s just Crew.

“Fuck, you’re bleeding.” His eyes widen as he approaches us.

“I’m fine,” I mutter as I roll off Andrea. “I trust the culprit has been apprehended?”

He nods, helping me to my feet. I turn to help Andrea up but lose my balance as my vision flickers out. I land on the floor with a thud, barely registering the pain because I’m so lightheaded. I must have lost consciousness because when I wake up, I’m sprawled on my back, staring at the ceiling.

“You’re awake!” Andrea smiles, running a hand through my hair. I realize that she’s holding my other hand tightly.

“I’ve got it!” Killian, the resident doctor, jogs in struggling with a stretcher.

“For your sake, I hope that’s not for me,” I grumble as I struggle to sit up.

“Massimo,” he signs and lets out a relieved breath. “I’m so glad you’re awake.” He tosses the stretcher aside; it makes an awful sound. “You're a heavy motherfucker, hence the stretcher.”

He comes to my side; and with the help of Crew, I get to my feet. Andrea is still clamping my hand tightly, while my left arm hangs limply. I notice that the sleeve of my shirt has been ripped away and my arm patched up. Killian must have taken care of it while I was out.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get hit in your dominant arm because this one is going to be out of commission for a while,” Killian pronounces as I slowly make my way out of the ballroom, Andrea by my side.

“How long is a while?” Andrea asks. Killian gives me a questioning glance, and I just grunt.

“You need to limit strenuous activity for a few days, give or take. The first shot just barely grazed him, but the second shot is the problem. The bullet hit an artery, hence the excessive bleeding. The loss of blood made him lose consciousness. He’s extremely lucky the bullet didn’t hit a nerve,” he explains as Andrea listens attentively.

We make it to the stairs. I slowly begin to climb, careful not to jostle my injured arm. I remain quiet, following Andrea as she leads me to the bedroom she’s been staying in–our bedroom.

“Do you mind giving us a minute, pet?” I ask, pausing outside the door. “You go on in.”

She gives me a baleful stare, but goes in nonetheless. “Who was it? The Rossi’s? One of the other men at dinner?” I ask Crew.

“We can talk about it in the morning after you’ve–”

“I got shot in the arm, not the fucking head. Now, tell me.”

He sighs, “It was one of the men who came in as Dominic and Tomasi’s guards. He claims to act on his own and the Rossi brothers have nothing to do with it.”

Of course, he did. When I get my hands on him…my hands are clenched into fists.

“Massimo, please. I barely managed to get the wound to stop bleeding, you’re going to break the stitches.” Killian rubs a hand over his face. “The man is tied up in the basement. You can figure out what to do with him and retaliate in the morning, but for now you need to sleep.”

As he speaks, my head does a leisurely spin. I sway but quickly catch myself on the wall. “Did you drug me?” I growl when the spell passes.

He pales, the only answer I need. I take a threatening step toward him just as the bedroom door swings open. Andrea pauses, taking in the scene. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll pick this up later,” I threaten as I make my way inside the room.

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