Page 54 of His Ruthless Vow

Kendra's already pulling out her phone. Her fingers leave bloody smudges on the screen.

"No hospitals," I manage, catching her wrist. Hospitals mean questions. Hospitals mean cops. Hospitals mean Zenon finding us.

She whips her head toward me, eyes flashing. "You were shot, Enzo!"

I meet her gaze steadily, even as my vision blurs at the edges. "I've had worse."

The lie tastes like copper in my mouth. I haven't had worse. Not like this.

Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think she might slap me. Instead, she slams my door shut and storms around to the driver's side. Behind us, the warehouse roof collapses, sending embers spiraling into the night sky.

"Keys," she demands, palm outstretched.

I dig them from my pocket, leaving crimson fingerprints on the silver fob. She snatches them, jams them into the ignition. The engine roars to life.

"You better not die in my car," she mutters, throwing the car into reverse.

"It's my car," I remind her, letting my head fall back against the headrest. I have enough of a presence of mind to send a short text to Luca. He'll get someone dispatched to my place.

She peels away from the burning building, tires screaming against asphalt. Her driving is aggressive, efficient—a woman who knows exactly how much pressure to apply. Typical Kendra, all control even in chaos.

"They lied to me," she says suddenly, knuckles white against the steering wheel. "Zenon. He said—he said you were with them, managed to get me away from everyone and cornered on my way to work. I never would have just gone with them."

I force my eyes to stay open, watching her profile in the passing streetlights. "I know."

"I fought them, Enzo. I wouldn't—I didn't betray you."

"I know," I repeat, softer this time.

Her voice cracks as she continues, "When I saw you on the ground, I thought—" She swallows hard. "I thought you were gone."

Something in my chest twists that has nothing to do with the bullet. "You were scared for me."

She scowls, eyes fixed on the road. "You're an idiot."

My lips twitch, but I don't push. The city blurs past us, and I focus on staying conscious. One breath. Then another. My shirt is soaked through now, warm and wet against my skin. Not good.

By the time we reach my building, I'm barely hanging on. The garage door closes behind us, sealing us in concrete darkness. Kendra kills the engine.

"We're here," she says, unnecessarily.

Getting me out of the car is worse than getting in. My legs don't want to cooperate, and darkness threatens to overtake me with each movement. Kendra's arm is rigid around my waist, her shoulder wedged under my arm.

"Stay with me," she orders, her voice close to my ear.

The elevator ride is a haze of pain and the scent of her hair. My blood leaves a trail across the marble floor of my hallway.

When the door to my penthouse opens, I hear the scramble of paws against hardwood. Penny's anxious whine cuts through the fog in my head.

"It's okay, girls," I mutter as Kendra guides me to the couch.

I collapse onto the leather, unable to hold myself upright any longer. Penny hovers nearby, her intelligent eyes tracking every movement. Paige, the eternal optimist, wags her tail despite the obvious tension.

"Where's your first aid kit?" Kendra demands, already moving toward the bathroom.

"Cabinet above the sink. There's more in my office. Second drawer."

She disappears, returning with arms full of supplies. My eyes find her face—there's blood smeared across her cheek, ash in her hair. She's never looked so fierce.

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