Page 116 of Gamble with Me
It was a hard pill to swallow to admit Chester arranged the attack on Zyon. Still, Malin was sure of it. He revealed that the hitman hired to kill Zyon had been on Giovanni Valentino’s payroll for years. Only because it wasn’t planned thoroughly and the killer didn’t have a clean shot, he missed Zyon’s chest and head. According to Malin’s findings, the view atthe police front door was blocked by trees, so he was shooting blind. Otherwise, there would be no one to care for during the night.
Trying to stop my mind from picturing the worst, I dialed Alice's number. I needed to check up on Zara. My baby girl was brave and adaptable, but it still was a considerable change. I had to know if she was okay, and thankfully, Alice confirmed everything was fine. Zara noticed I hadn't returned home, but my best friend claimed I was at work, and she accepted this explanation. I hated lying to her, but I had no choice. I couldn't leave Zyon alone.
Ending the call, I knelt on the bed, watching Zyon sleep. He was pale. His skin was almost transparent, and bags formed under his eyes. Everything fell down on me with a crushing force when I realized I was the reason behind his injuries. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my cheeks, washing out the guilt that flooded my system. His cold war with Chester would have never escalated if we hadn’t started an affair. Nothing would have happened if we hadn’t met in Adam Rivers’ office.
Falling in love with my husband's enemy was such a cruel twist of destiny. I could’ve fallen for anyone, but no. I had to start a secret romance with a masked stalker, who turned out to be a criminal who was also my new boss and Chester’s mortal adversary. Like my life wasn’t complicated enough with an abusive, gambling-addicted husband.
Exhaling deeply, I entwined my fingers with Zyon’s. My tears fell on our connected hands as if sealing our relationship. I knew I would do anything for this man, go anywhere with him, yet the reality was tough to ignore.
This wasn’t his first time getting injured or shot. He had scars under his tattoos. I found them while tracing my fingertips through them to keep myself occupied.
I knew about three attacks on him. Police were constantly behind his back, trying to put him in jail. How long would it take before I would become a widow or wife of a criminal sentenced to life in prison?
I wasn’t naive. Zyon allegedly murdered many people in his career as the crime lord. He didn’t have a problem committing any offense if it meant getting what he wanted. He was a man who would stop at nothing to achieve his goal. So, whether I liked it or not, I had to accept the truth. I fell in love with a criminal, which could be my doom.
I cuddled Zyon as close as possible, resting my face on his shoulder. I wanted him to feel my presence and know he wasn’t alone.
The fight wasn’t over yet, but he didn’t have a fever, his breathing was clear, and his heartbeat was steady. Still, my paranoia was at its peak, supported by a raw fear that refused to vanish.
I finally fell asleep at almost three am. When I woke up, I was curled around Zyon as if I was afraid he would run away if I weren’t holding him.
“Morning, mon cœur,” he whispered, his lips kissing my forehead. My heart almost burst through my ribcage from happiness that he was awake.
“Hello, handsome,” I breathed, lifting myself to see his face. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” he admitted, grimacing. “I’m thirsty, hungry, and bored.”
“That’s a lovely combination,” I joked, leaving the bed and pouring him a glass of water. “How long have you been up?”
“Not sure.” He shrugged, trying to push himself up, but all he managed was to hiss in pain.
“Easy.” I sat beside him, helping him drink. “Dorian will be here soon to check up on you.”
Zyon lay back on the cushions, frowning at me. I put away the empty glass, smiled at him, and adjusted the cover, yet I felt weird when he stared at me like that.
“Is everything okay?” I asked when he didn’t stop observing me.
“You tell me, Valeria,” he replied in a strained voice, cupping my chin. I flinched because the bruise on my jaw still hadn’t healed completely, and the place was sensitive. “What is on your face?”
My body froze. I had put on makeup while with Zara, but my constant crying and wiping my tears most probably washed it away.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to buy some time to devise a believable answer.
“You know exactly what I mean,” he seethed, his temper rising. “You have a long, dark bruise on half of your face. What happened?”
Zyon reacted as I expected him to. His overprotectiveness turned him into a beast who was hard to calm down.
“Nothing,” I whispered, pressing my hand against the evidence of Chester’s behavior. “I’m just clumsy.”
“Clumsy?” Zyon spat the word like it was the biggest insult in the world. My stomach was cramped, and chills ran down my spine. This conversation could escalate very quickly. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“What? No!” I shook my head firmly, holding his angry look.
“Then stop lying to me!” His strong voice echoed through the open space, bouncing from the empty walls. “I promised to never lie to you. Why can’t you return the favor? Is this how you want to start our life together? By lying to me?”
“Zyon, please,” I whispered, taking his hand, but he yanked it from my hold.
“What happened, Valeria?” he repeated, his eyes reflecting so much anger I was worried he would burn me to ashes.
