Page 27 of The Brat's Bargain

"Shh, don't talk," Damien urged, already moving towards the waiting SUV where Gina was behind the wheel. "Just hold on. Please, Antonio. Hold on for me."

As they sped away from the warehouse, sirens wailing in the distance, Damien cradled Antonio's limp form against his chest. Blood seeped between his fingers as he applied pressure to the wound, each labored breath Antonio took a dagger to his heart.

"Don't you dare die on me, you brat," Damien growled, his voice rough with fear and desperation. "You hear me? That's an order from your Daddy."

Antonio's lips quirked in a weak smile, blood staining his teeth. "Still... not your... little boy," he wheezed, ever defiant even on the brink of unconsciousness.

Damien's chest tightened, a mix of exasperation and fierce love overwhelming him. "The hell you're not," he muttered, pressing harder on the wound. "And when you're better, I'm going to spank that sass right out of you."

The SUV screeched to a halt outside a private clinic Damien kept on retainer for situations just like this. He scooped Antonio into his arms, barking orders at the waiting medical team as he carried his precious cargo inside.

"GSW to the abdomen," he snapped, depositing Antonio on a gurney. "He's lost a lot of blood. Save him. Whatever it takes."

As the doctors rushed Antonio into surgery, Damien found himself alone in the sterile hallway, hands sticky with drying blood. His boy's blood. The weight of everything that had happened, everything he stood to lose, crashed down on him all at once.

He slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold tile floor. For the first time in years, Damien Benedetti, the feared kingpin of Chicago's underworld, buried his face in his hands and wept.

Hours passed in a haze of anxiety and regret. Damien paced the waiting room like a caged tiger, snapping at anyone who dared approach him. When Vivian Lombardi arrived, her face pale with worry, he braced himself for a confrontation.

But instead of the vitriol he expected, Vivian merely looked at him with tired eyes. "How is he?" she asked softly.

"Still in surgery," Damien replied, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "They... they said it's touch and go."

Vivian nodded, sinking into a nearby chair. For a long moment, neither spoke, the weight of shared fear and guilt hanging heavy between them.

Finally, Vivian broke the silence. "I saw how you looked at him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "When you carried him in. I've never seen you like that before."

Damien's jaw clenched, emotion threatening to overwhelm him again. "I love him," he admitted, the words feeling like they were torn from his very soul. "God help me, I love that mouthy little brat more than anything in this world."

To his surprise, Vivian's lips curved in a small, sad smile. "I know," she said. "And I think... I think he loves you too."

Before Damien could respond, the door burst open and the lead surgeon emerged, looking exhausted but relieved. "He's stable," the doctor announced. "It was touch and go for a while, but he's a fighter. With rest and proper care, he should make a full recovery."

The tension in the room eased, replaced by a collective sigh of relief. Damien felt like he could breathe for the first time since Antonio had been taken.

"Can I see him?" he asked, already moving towards the door.

The doctor nodded. "Briefly. He's still unconscious, but?—"

Damien didn't wait to hear the rest, pushing past into the recovery room. His breath caught at the sight of Antonio, pale and small in the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines. But he was alive. Breathing. Fighting.

Damien approached the bed on unsteady legs, reaching out to gently brush a stray curl from Antonio's forehead. "Hey, baby boy," he murmured, voice thick with emotion. "You did so good. So brave for Daddy. Now you just rest and get better, okay? Because we've got a lot to talk about when you wake up."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to Antonio's lips. "I love you," he whispered against Antonio's skin. "I love you so much, my fierce little brat. And I swear, I'm never letting you go again."

As if in response, Antonio's fingers twitched, curling weakly around Damien's hand. Damien's heart leapt, hope blooming in his chest.

But they weren't out of the woods yet. Antonio still had a long recovery ahead, and there were countless loose ends to tie up. The fallout from the rescue operation, the power vacuum left by Rizzo's death, the lingering tensions between the Benedetti and Lombardi families...

And most importantly, the uncertain future of his relationship with Antonio. Would the younger man forgive him for the lies and manipulation? Could they build something real, something lasting, from the ashes of their tumultuous beginnings?

As Damien settled into the chair by Antonio's bedside, prepared to keep vigil for as long as it took, he knew one thing for certain:

Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on. For Antonio. For the love that had changed everything.

The game had shifted, the stakes higher than ever before. But Damien was all in, ready to risk it all for the chance at a future with the bratty, beautiful boy who had stolen his heart.

Now, he just had to wait for Antonio to wake up and decide if he was willing to take that chance too.

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