Page 50 of Dark Masquerade
“Ssh, ssh, beautiful Elli. It’s all over now.”
Weakening, Elli reached up and pulled the mask from his face. Aldo Constanza, his face one of utter cruelty, held her as he plunged the knife into her again and then lowered her to the cold ground. Elli’s chest felt tight and she could smell the blood. She moaned, and her back arched as he stabbed her again. Aldo laughed, but his face twisted into a snarl.
“You shouldn’t have lovedhim, Elli. You were mine, just as Yvetta was mine. When I found out that his one true love was alive and living in Venice—I had to have you.” He touched her face. “From the first moment, I wanted to feel your blood on my hands, but I had to play the long game, make Navaro feel as if he’d won—that he could love you and be happy. The fool. I intended to kill you from that first moment, Elliana. That first moment when my car drove straight at you and you slipped on the ice. It was so easy. Fucking you was a bonus. But this, my sweet girl, this was always the end game. Goodbye, Elli.”
And he raised the knife to finish her.
Indio, desperate now, raced through the streets of Venice, frantic to find her. Everything went through his –mind—what if she fell into the Lagoon? What if she slipped and hit her head?
What if Constanza found her before he could?
God, no. He rammed his way through the crowds, down dark alleys, and over bridges to find her.
When he turned into the final alley before rejoining the throng, his blood froze. Elli was on the ground, and Aldo Constanza, his weapon raised, was about to kill her. Even from this distance, Indio could see her red blood stark against the white dress.Oh, please, no …Indio snatched his pistol from his waistband and, without hesitation, he aimed the gun at Aldo.
“Constanza! Drop the knife, now!”
Constanza looked up and grinned. He stood, dropping the bloody knife. Keeping his gun trained on him, Indio stalked forward.
“She’s already dead, Navaro. I did what I intended. I killed the love of your life. Look at herbleed, Navaro …she died in agony.”
Indio knew he was trying to get him to shift focus—but Indio knew if he did, they were both dead.
Hold on, my love, please …
“It’s too late, Navaro …you’ve lost. She’s losing too much blood. You can’t save her. Admit defeat.”
“Shut the fuck up, Constanza.”
Aldo Constanza was gleeful now, giggling like a child. “You know I fucked her, right? GodhowI fucked her …in every room of the house you built me. She sucked my cock, and I ate her cunt …whore…”
Indio shot Aldo between the eyes without warning and Aldo dropped, his big body slumping over Elli, who moaned softly.God, she’s alive.Indio dropped to his knees and pushed the dead man away from his love. He didn’t waste time talking, knowing every moment counted now. He simply scooped her up with the words, “Hold on, my darling love. Hold on for me, please.” Then he was running through the crowds—running to save her life.
Every moment he expected the doctor to come and tell him, “We did everything we could, but I’m afraid she didn’t make it.”
Every moment he expected to sense the moment that Elli died. Indio closed his eyes, praying, exhausted and desolate. He tried to reason—tried to tell himself it was a longshot and that she was too hurt. To distract himself, he’d called the police and told them everything, and now there was a detective with him, relaying all the information his detectives had found. Aldo Constanza was confirmed dead. His fingerprints all over the knife that had ripped Elli apart. The detective with Indio now was empathetic and respectful. Indio knew his own face was a mask of pain now. So many masks. So many lies.
So much horror. If he’d only gone against what Enzo Moretti had told him all those years ago and made it clear to Enzo that he, Indio, would love and care for Elli better than anyone and that he was in love with her. He should have tried harder. Elli wouldn’t be so hurt now. Yvetta would be alive, married to someone who truly loved her, who didn’t love someone else, and she would have a whole bunch of beautiful kids.
He and Elli would be married and he would have given her everything. Their children would be playing in the fields and olive groves around their house in the country.God, Elli …I love you more than life itself …please come back to me.
Elli drifted back into consciousness, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Opening her eyes to bright white light was agony. Her soul felt disconnected from her body. There was pain—not as much as she would have expected from being cut open—but low-level discomfort and stiffness.
Her mouth was tinder-dry and sore, and she gave a little moan as she moved. Vivienne came into her field of vision, then, her elegant features thinner and shadowed with grief.
She smiled down at Elli, her cool hand on Elli’s forehead. “Well, hello again, pumpkin. Good to see you.” The tears in her eyes belied the gentle humor. “Thank God you’re okay,sorella.” She used the Italian word for sister.
“What happened?” Her voice came out as a croak, and, before answering her, Vivienne held a cup of water to her mouth so she could drink.
“You were drugged, then while you were trying to get help, Aldo Constanza stabbed you almost to death. Indio killed Aldo and got you here.”
“Indio?” Elli’s head whirled, trying to wrap around the barrage of information. “He’s here?”
Vivienne nodded, her face showing signs of tension. “He’s been a mess. He was devastated when he brought you in. The doctors warned us you might not make it …it took me a week to persuade him to change his shirt—it was covered in your blood. He never left the hospital.”
“A week? How long have I been out?”
Vivienne stroked her hair. “You’ve been in a coma for a month, darling. At first, they gave you a five percent chance of making it and told us to prepare ourselves. The knife severed your abdominal artery and you lost almost half your blood volume. It’s a miracle you made it, Elli. A miracle. What do you remember?”
