Page 87 of The Shadow King's Brother

“Vickie,” he says hoarsely, stepping forward with a grimace, favoring his leg. “How’s the bride-to-be holding up?”

I can’t help but smile, despite the pain in my side. “A lot better than you, apparently.” I arch a brow at his limp.

“I’m good,” he mutters, easing into the chair beside the bed. He winces as he settles in.

Gio and Vinny follow behind. Gio crosses his arms, face unreadable, while Vinny strolls in like it’s just another Wednesday. He drops into the seat beside Jackson, slinging an arm over the back like they’ve been best friends for years.

“Elio, buddy,” Gio says with a brief nod, settling in the corner.

“You’re looking like shit,” Vinny tells Jackson, flashing a grin, though his tone is strangely soft.

“Yeah, well, you’re no better.” Jackson’s voice is strained but steady. His eyes settle on me, and something gentle flickers there. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I guess I’m still needed here,” I say, shrugging slightly. “Maybe just to keep you two idiots in line.”

I glance at Vinny. He’s sitting a little too close for comfort. The old anger simmers under my skin, but I shove it down. Not now.

I exhale sharply, locking eyes with him. “You’re on parole, you know that?”

Vinny raises an eyebrow, his smirk gone. “Fair enough,” he murmurs. “You’re a tough one.”

“I learned from the best,” I mutter, almost smiling.

“Elio’s always been a good teacher,” Vinny says, smirking. “Fucking Shadow King.”

But the smirk doesn’t last. His expression shifts, darkens.

“So… what’s the deal with the Rodriguez family?”

Jackson clears his throat. “They’re all gone. Eddie, Pedro, Naomi… all of them. No siblings left. No surprises. I checked. Twice.”

I let out a long breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Good. That’s the last of them.”

Vinny shifts in his seat, then nods toward my hand. “Nice ring.”

I glance down at the sparkle on my finger. The weight of it, the truth of it, still knocks the wind out of me. But I love it.

“Not too shabby, right?” I say, flexing my fingers. My knuckle’s still a little swollen, but I don’t care. The ring belongs there.

Elio’s eyes gleam. “We have a fucking wedding to plan, you know. You’re getting married soon.”

“Soon, huh?”

“I’d have done it yesterday, but you were unconscious,” he says, winking.

“Sorry about that. Needed my beauty sleep.”

I blink up at him. God, he’s so damn handsome today—casually perfect in a crisp white T-shirt and grey slacks. He looks like a million bucks without trying. The watch on his wrist gleams under the hospital lights, but my eyes catch on the bruises across his knuckles, the sling cradling his wounded arm.

But he’s here.

He’s alive.

And he’s mine. Forever.

The thought makes my heart stutter.

I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus. “Where’s Tuvio?” I ask, glancing around the room.

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