Page 70 of Corrupting Lily

All the times he laid a hand on Lily, all the pain he has caused her, caused us, burst forth until I am squeezing his pitiful flesh and bones in my hands. I should drag this out, but there is no time. I have been shot before, but this feels different. I never before cared that I might die. Now, a fear grips me, a new feeling, and I almost laugh when I think of how the Grim Reaper is repaying me in kind for what I have just done.

To my right, I hear the familiar voices of Nero and Dante, though their words are coming from far away. As the life drains from Johnathan’s eyes, so too does my strength. Leaving my body through the hole in my chest as blood pours from it.

“Dominico!” Dante shouts as I let the dead man drop to the floor, his open, fear-filled eyes making me smile as I stagger back and then fall.

Lily’s beautiful face fills my vision as her hand cups my cheek, her features drifting in and out of focus.

“Lily,” I mumble, her face drawing closer to mine, stricken and pale.

“I love you,il mio fiorellino.”

Her mouth opens and closes, no sound escaping as tears stream down her face. Slowly, she fades into darkness.

As do I.

Chapter 43

Lily

“I love you, il mio fiorellino.”

Dominico’s last words fade into the distance as my eyes flutter open.

I wish it were a dream, but as I lift my head, my gaze meets the ashen complexion of the man who spoke them. Judging by the ache in my neck, I must have been asleep for some time. At least this kind of neck ache is better than the one I had during the first two weeks recovering from the strangulation that took my voice. It took my ability to say any words in response to Dominico's last ones. I fucking hated that man for it. For what he stole from me.

A tear slides down my cheek, and my hand finds Dominico's, but there is no reciprocation—just like every time I have repeated the action over the last three weeks.

The monitor beside his bed beeps a steady rhythm that I find comforting, much more than the sound I heard shortly after the ambulance arrived at the now-closed 'pharmacy'. The sound of that flatlinewill stick with me forever. Dominico had died, but they managed to bring him back. After a six-hour surgery to retrieve the bullet from a spot close to his heart and repair the damage it inflicted, he was transferred to the ICU.

If Johnathan weren’t already dead, I would kill him for this. It was his fault. But it was also mine. Dominico wouldn't be in this position if I hadn’t come into his life. The moment those negative thoughts and the guilt accompanying them enter my mind, Dominico’s voice, sharing that space, scolds me for even entertaining such ideas. He would be disappointed if he knew I had them, so I push them away. They do not belong here. Whether Johnathan was involved or not, Dominico and I are meant to be together. I know this as well as I know that he will wake up. He must wake up.

“Come back to me,” I whisper, my voice finally sounding normal for the first time in ages. "If you don't, I'll make good on that threat I made that if you die, I'll sleep with someone else, just so that you can come back and kill him." I half expect him to give me that stern look he always gives me when I say something that plays on his jealousy, but still, nothing.

I lean in close to his ear so he can hear me as I place his hand on my belly. "Come back to us."

This is not how I want to tell him, but this is all I have. I'm desperate. And I hope that by his hearing it, it will make him fight. For me. For the family we are on our way to having. I have been reading and talking to him daily, hoping my voice will guide him back. Hoping to see those silver-grey eyes looking at me the way they always do. Like I am the be-all and end-all. I thought that moving him from the hospital to his home yesterday, under Dr. Andrews’ care, who will stay with us until Dominico wakes up, would help him regain consciousness. That once we were in his mansion, his home, surrounded by all thepeople who cared for him, he would miraculously wake up. But still, nothing. The doctor said I must give it time. He needs time to heal. He is strong. Everyone says that. But what if time doesn’t heal him? What if he never wakes up?

Before I can allow that thought to take root as it has so often, Nero’s voice behind me catches my attention. He stands beside Matteo, planted in a spot just inside the doorway. Where I go, he goes, a shadow welcomed during this dark time. He doesn’t say much, but I see the pain in his eyes each time his gaze drifts to his Don’s unmoving form.

“We will bring a bed in here. You cannot sleep in a chair like that. It’s not good for you. I'm a dead man when Dominico wakes up and finds you like that.”

His use of ‘when’ instead of ‘if’ reveals his conviction. Although his voice is gruff, a tenderness has slowly developed over time. He accepts me as part of the family, as Dominico’s wife.

"Yes, I second that. When your man wakes up and finds you hunched over, looking like a zombie, we are all dead men and women walking." This manages to pull a small smile from me as I look at the woman who was only returned to us a week ago. She was sold to the man who had forced her on us in the first place. Ironically, he is the underboss of the Russian mafia. I don't know all the details of how Nero brought her back to us, but I do know that there was no stopping him. Once we discovered that she was no longer at 'the pharmacy,' Nero had been on a rampage to get her back.

“We have news.” The tenderness vanishes, and my heart clenches, knowing what he will say. We have a traitor in our midst. In thefamiglia. I heard Johnathan tell Dominico about him being informed of his presence at 'the pharmacy' and his use of the plural term 'traitor.' I had been mulling it over for weeks, my mind goingback to one little detail that was etched into my mind: the cigar on the floor in the operating room. The one with a distinctive gold family emblem wrapped around it. The same one I had seen on the box of cigars he was given as a wedding gift.

Now it’s confirmed.

“You were right. Arrangements have been made. They will be here in thirty minutes.”

Fuck. I hated that I was right, but at least now I knew. I look at Dominico, a burning desire for revenge bubbling up as I think about the person coming here who played a role in my husband's current state.

He hands me the small, clear evidence bag with a half-smoked cigar, found in one of the upstairs offices at 'the pharmacy.' The DNA matched the man I suspected.

"You've got this." Holly gives me a reassuring smile before she and Nero leave, allowing me a moment to sift through my thoughts and consider the various scenarios in my mind about how this next interaction will go. As my eyes focus on Dominico, the ever-growing desire to make someone pay sits in the pit of my stomach like a mix of anxiety and excitement.

“Mrs. Sante.” Matteo, addressing me nearby, makes me jump.

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