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27

MARCO

“Marco!” Roman's face swims above mine, his features blurring at the edges.

I try to speak but only manage a grunt.

The warehouse ceiling spins overhead.

Roman barks orders into his phone, his voice reverberating strangely in my ears.

"Dr. Salerno… tell him to prepare… blood loss…" He looks down at me. “Don’t you die on me.”

I’m not afraid. Not really.

But Roman’s tormented face tells me that death is coming and I don’t feel ready.

Too many things are left unsaid.

Darkness encroaches again. I fight against it, clawing my way back to consciousness. Gabriella. Where's Gabriella?

"She's safe," Roman says, though I don't remember asking. "Antonio has her."

Strong arms lift me.

Pain explodes across my chest, and I'm floating, then bumping along.

Car door. Leather seats. The smell of my own blood, metallic and thick.

“Go! Go! Go!” Roman barks at the driver as he sits with me in the back of the vehicle.

"Stay awake, Marco." Roman's voice pulls me back from the edge. "Tell me what it was like to put two in Frank, that mother fucker."

I know he’s trying to keep me conscious, but I find it impossible to respond to him.

My thoughts are too chaotic, like a kaleidoscope in my mind.

Gabriella.

The baby. My baby.

I'm going to be a father.

The very thing I knew I could never be, and yet when it mattered, I did what was required.

I stepped in front of that gun without hesitation.

For her. For them.

"Roman."

He leans closer. "Save your strength."

"Listen." I grab his wrist with what little strength I have. "If I don't make it?—"

"You will."

"If I don't," I insist, "take care of them. Gabriella. The baby…"