Page 51 of Ruthless Rival

Gabriela shook her head as tears gleamed in her eyes. “I don’t care about that right now. I care about you. Are you okay?” she asked me as she looked at my bleeding hand. “What happened?”

“A bullet hit my hand, but it’s fine. It went right through. My doctor will be arriving shortly to treat it,” I assured her.

“He needs to hurry up! You’re still bleeding!” Gabriela exclaimed as she stared hard at the blood. Her hand shook slightly as she placed it on my wrist, keeping my hand turned to stop the blood from dripping onto the ground.

“I’m fine,” I assured her as I reached out to cup her cheek with my good hand. “And I promise we’ll go after Santiago and finish the job.”

Gabriela placed her hand over mine. “My father is nothing without his supporters. He’s just a cruel man who speaks cruel words,” she told me. “Forget him.”

“Forget him?” I asked her with a surprised look on my face.

“I will deal with my father my own way,” Gabriela replied. “He has nothing left to threaten me with. Not with you by my side.”

I smiled a little and leaned my forehead against hers. “You will never have anything to fear,” I promised her. Anyone who was a Mancini was protected for life. That was our code, our promise to each other.

“I only fear losing you,” Gabriela said.

I moved closer, my lips brushing hers to make her breath hitch so beautifully. “And that you will certainly not have to fear.”

Epilogue

Gabriela

The Castillo cartel had crumbled at last. My father was spared as he failed to pick up the pieces of his legacy. He had no power, no real support left, and no purpose. He was an empty shell of a man, and I was ready to face him and demand for him to answer all of my questions that I harbored for years.

“You’re ready,” Alberto said as he stood behind me in the bedroom. He had his bandaged hand tucked in his pants pocket. Like the doctor said, the wound wasn’t serious and healed quickly, hardly affecting his mobility.

I peered at myself in the standing mirror in front of me, cupping my stomach. There was the slightest bump, which flooded my chest with warmth. I was pregnant again, and I would fight like hell to keep my child safe from my father’s grasp. He wouldn’t ever touch a baby of mine again, and he wouldn’t dare try to tear me down. “I just want to know why he treated me so terribly. Why did he treat Carlos so well and not me?” I asked as I met his eyes in the reflection.

Alberto wrapped his arms around me and kissed the back of my head. “He’s a terrible man who only cares about power. Carlos would’ve continued his legacy,” he replied. “He underestimated you, and that’s how we were able to strip away his power. It was because of you, Gabriela.”

I turned around and smiled up at him. He had no idea how much his words meant to me, how they made me feel whole. My plan somewhat worked in the end, but talking to my father was the last step. “And because of you and your family,” I replied. It was a team effort, and I was forever grateful for their help.

“Ourfamily,” Alberto corrected me as he smoothed his fingers over my hair. “You are one of us.”

My eyes teared up slightly as I nodded. He was right. We were family. “I love you,” I said. I told him that a lot, but it never felt like enough. He needed to know how much I cared about him, how much he helped me.

“I love you, my bella,” Alberto replied with a warm look in his eyes. “Always.”

I brushed my nose against his playfully, coaxing a chuckle from him. “I think I’ll call Ignacio and see if he knows where my father is. I want to arrange a meeting with him. One last talk.” I sighed, feeling the tension seep into my shoulders and chest.

Our moment was cut short by my phone ringing. I broke away from Alberto and checked the screen to see that it was Ignacio. I immediately answered, “Yes?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Ignacio said.

I paused. “What is it?” I asked, already recognizing his grave tone.

“Santiago is in critical condition,” Ignacio told me.

I reached out and grabbed the wall near the door, my heartbeat thudding in my head. “He’s in critical condition?” I asked. “How?”

Alberto now looked concerned as he’d heard what I said.

“After the attack and finding out that you were with Mancini, he had a stroke. The remaining Castillos are keeping him in one of their hideaway places,” Ignacio explained.

“Tell me where he is,” I told him. I had one chance to confront him and I wasn’t going to lose it.

“He’s in the upper unit above that cigar shop on Crane,” Ignacio said. “If you’re planning on going there, you need to hurry. He doesn’t have much time left.”

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