Page 35 of Saint Of Envy
Her trembling body falls into my arms as she cries.
I hold her against me and try to calm her. “Shhh, everything is going to be okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you.” As I look over her shoulder, I can see Leonardo’s body on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood.
“What happened?”
“He tried to come at me,” she cries. “Tried to force himself on me, but I didn’t let him. Not this time. I shot him and killed him, and I’m glad for it.”
The thought of him bringing Valentina all the way out here so that he could force himself onto her blinds me with hatred and rage.
“Stay right here for one second,” I say as I steady her against the side of the car. I need to make sure that he’s dead and that Leonardo Conti will never bother her again.
I walk toward Leonardo’s lifeless body and kick it twice. He’s completely unresponsive, with his eyes rolled into the back of his head. But still—I crouch down beside him, disgusted at the sight of his flaccid, sand-covered dick, and put the barrel of my gun against the center of his forehead.
“No amount of money or status could protect you from the death you so greatly deserve, Leonardo,” I say, before pulling the trigger.
Now, with his brains splattered against the ground, I can be sure that he will never again interfere in our lives. Tonight, the Moretti family made good on two of its debts of revenge—Angelo Barone and Leonardo Conti are no more.
Just as I go to stand up and wipe Leonardo’s blood off my face with the back of my hand, Valentina lets out a scream of pain. I turn to look at her and see her fall to her knees beside the car. Around her heels, a puddle of blood is forming on the sand.
I run toward her, panicked over her condition, seeing the urgent need to get her to the hospital.
“What happened? What’s causing all this bleeding?” I ask, feeling entirely out of my depth, but knowing that a bleeding pregnant woman is definitely bad.
She tries to talk as she holds her stomach and cries, but her words are scrambled and faint. She’s losing too much blood and is in obvious excruciating pain. I can make out a few words she utters—forced, pill, too late, but I don’t know what that all means. All I know is that she needs help.
I lift Valentina up into my arms and carry her quickly back to my car, opening the back door and laying her down on the backseat before driving back into the city at record speed. On the way, I call Vincent through the car speaker and update him on the situation.
“Zara is informing the ER at the hospital now,” Vincent says. “They’ll be expecting you and ready when you arrive. Everythingyou need will be at your disposal, and Isla and I will head that way and meet you both there.”
“Thank you, Vincent,” I say, struggling not to let my voice crack as Valentina continues to cry in the back of the car.
“Of course. Don’t worry, Luciano. Valentina will be okay. Trust me when I say that our women are tougher than we give them credit for.”
When I end the call and glance in the rearview mirror at Valentina, all I can think of is how not tough she looks right now. She looks fragile, afraid, and in pain. I know deep down how strong and resilient she is. I’ve seen that strength in her before. But it’s not just her anymore—there’s a tiny life inside of her, one that is so innocent and delicate, and it is now that little life too that I’m afraid for.
As soon as the hospital is in sight, I speed toward the ER doors where, just like Vincent said, the staff is waiting for us with a stretcher for Valentina. I barely get the door open before the doctors and nurses are lifting her out of the car and whisking her off into the hospital.
“I’m coming with her,” I demand as one nurse stands in my way.
“Please, sir, you need to wait here and let us do our job. She’s in good hands,” the nurse says firmly.
I open my mouth to argue with her and barge my way past, unwilling to let Valentina out of my sight again, but then I feel a gentle touch on my arm and turn to see Isla standing there with Vincent beside her.
“She’ll be okay,” Isla smiles, her eyes worried but calm. “It’s best if you stay here with Vincent and not get in the way of themedical team. I’ll go talk with the head intake nurse and see what I can find out, okay?”
Minutes feel like hours as I pace the halls of the waiting area while Vincent sits stoically in a chair, whispering to Isla every time she returns from the nurses’ station with no additional news.
Finally, after what seems like literal hours, there’s an update.
“Mr. Moretti?” the doctor says as he walks toward us. “You’ll be able to see Ms. Ricci now. We’ve moved her into a private hospital room to rest.”
“How is she?”
“She’s suffered some internal hemorrhaging, likely from the pill doing the job it was created to do,” he says with a frown.
“What pill?”
The doctor glances between all three of us. “My apologies. I thought that perhaps you already knew. Apparently, someone forced Valentina to take abortion medication, according to what she told us after the pain medication took effect and she could think and articulate. That, combined with the extreme stress she endured, caused some hemorrhaging, which led to her pain and blood loss. We’ve got her stabilized now, and the worst of it should be over. She’s going to be fine.”
