Page 65 of Deception & Desire

“Shut up,” I hiss. “You can barely stand.”

“Exactly. You’ve done enough tonight. We’re not discussing this,” Teo says with all the authority of a don.

I nod, pulling Leon toward the waiting car before he can attempt another protest. Max helps me get him into the passenger seat, his head lolling back as he lets out a ragged breath. His face is pale, his shirt soaked with crimson.

“You’re going to be fine,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady as I buckle him in.

“Mia,” he murmurs, his hand brushing mine. His touch is weak, but it’s enough to make my chest ache.

“Don’t talk,” I say, blinking back tears as I climb into the driver’s seat.

The car roars to life, and I floor the accelerator, tearing out onto the empty street. I keep one hand on the wheel and the other pressed against Leon’s side, praying the bleeding will slow.

“Hold on,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

“Mia,” he says again, his voice barely audible.

“I said don’t talk.”

“Carmen,” he mutters, and the sound of her name is like a dagger to my chest.

“I know,” I choke out, my throat burning with unshed tears. “I know.”

The image of her face flashes in my mind—those wide, betrayed eyes, the way her voice broke as she called me a traitor. My hands tighten on the wheel as I fight the urge to scream.

“I ruined everything,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was me. I gave you away.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. Now isn’t the time. “Shush now, okay? We can talk about it when you don’t have a knife in your gut.”

“Please…” Leon’s voice is terribly faint. I fly through a red light.

“Shush, Leon. Please.”

“Stay with me.”

The tears spill over.

“Yes. Yes. Anything.”

18

LEON

The drive to the city outskirts is a blur, pain radiating from the knife wound in my side with every bump in the road.

Mia sits stiff beside me, her knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel. She barely speaks, her focus sharp, but I catch the way she glances at me every few seconds, her worry etched across her face.

It takes me a moment to realize where we are when we pull to a stop. Mia is moving the second she cuts the ignition, and the older man runs to her aid in an instant.

“You’re lucky she got you here when she did,” Marco mutters as he presses gauze to the deep gash in my abdomen. “Another inch and that blade would’ve punctured something vital.”

Lucky. I bite back a bitter laugh.

Mia hasn’t left the room, not even when Marco snapped at her to stay out of his way. She stood back, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on me the entire time like her focus alone could keep me alive.

When Marco finally stitches me up and straps a makeshift dressing over my side, he turns to her. “He’s stable for now, butthis isn’t a hospital. He needs rest, clean bandages, and someone to keep him from tearing those stitches.”

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