Page 64 of Bound to the Enforcer

I can feel his hands on my side, trying to stop the bleeding, but I know it's too much. It's too late.

No.

I fight it. I won't go down like this. Not after everything.

I try to speak, to reassure him, but all I manage is a weak, ragged breath. "Alessio…"

His eyes meet mine, filled with panic, but he forces himself to stay calm. "Stay with me, Sophia. You're not going anywhere. You can't. Youwon't."

He holds me tighter, his hand pressed to my side, but the pain is overwhelming, and my vision fades again.

"I love you…" I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

His grip tightens, and I feel his breath catch. "I love you, too," he can barely get the words out. "You're not dying on me. Not like this. Not now."

But it's hard to hold onto the moment. Everything is slipping, and I can barely keep my eyes open.

I hear him call for help—shouting Matteo's name, but even that fades as I feel myself drifting. The blood loss is too much, and I feel the darkness closing in.

This isn't how it was supposed to end.

But I can't stop it.

Chapter Nineteen

Alessio

The sterile smell of the hospital fills the air, heavy and suffocating. I sit in the plastic chair beside Sophia's bed, the constant beep of the heart monitor, the only sound keeping me tethered to the reality of what's happening. Her body is still, the sheets pulled up to her chest, her breathing shallow but steady.

I can't remember how long I've been sitting here, waiting for her to open her eyes, for her to come back to me. The pain in my chest is a constant, gnawing ache, and I can't escape it.

It's been six days since the shootout happened. Six days of me waiting for her to open her eyes so I can tell her that I love her, tell her that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

I am not a praying man, but I have found myself praying every prayer under the sun that will help wake her. I cannot fail her father again.

The door creaks open behind me, and I don't need to turn to know it's Matteo. He's been here every day, checking in on both of us, though I don't think he really knows how to comfort me. None of them do.

"Any change?" Matteo asks softly as he approaches the bed.

I shake my head, my jaw tight. "No. Still nothing."

He pulls up a chair and sits down across from me, his expression solemn. I can tell he's been through his own version of hell over the past few days, but he's holding it together. He always does.

"I know you're worried," Matteo says. "But she's strong. She's going to pull through. You've seen how tough she is."

I turn my head slowly, my eyes narrowing at him. "You think I don't know that? You think I haven't seen how strong she is? But I watched her fall. I heard her say my name, and I thought I lost her."

Matteo leans forward, his expression understanding but firm. "I know. And you're angry. You're scared. But she'll come back to you. She's still fighting."

I clench my fists, my eyes returning to Sophia's unconscious form. "She has to. She's the only thing that matters now. Everything else—everything else is just noise."

Matteo takes a deep breath, his gaze flicking over to the hospital window, where the city outside looks so normal, so far removed from the chaos we've just been through.

"We've got to deal with what happens next, Alessio. The Russians are going to be trouble. The head of their family... Maksim died in the shootout. There's going to be fallout. They want retribution."

I don't want to talk about the families. I don't want to think about what's coming next. All I can think about is Sophia. I look at her, her pale face, her lips slightly parted as if she might speak any moment.

"Don't do that," Matteo says gently. "Don't shut me out. You have to think about the future. You have to think aboutherfuture."

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