Pops waited across the room from us, still dressed in his tuxedo, his hands, and shirt matted with dried blood. He’d tried to stop the bleeding, to give Luca a better chance of survival. My grandmother was the only member of a Founding family not in attendance. Good riddance. No one would miss Blair.
I sat on Marcello’s lap and clutched his bicep, holding onto him for dear life. He hugged me against his chest and cradled the back of my head with his big hand. When Marcello was in surgery, Luca held me and told me everything would be okay. Today, it was Marcello’s turn to console me while we waited to find out if Luca would live.
I couldn’t imagine a world where Luca didn’t exist. For years, I had run away from him, desperate to escape my family legacy. But now, I would have given anything, even my own life, to see him one more time. To kiss his full lips and tell him I love him.
You can’t kill the Devil, baby.
I replayed Luca’s words in my mind dozens of times, telling myself there was some truth to his statement. Though, I knew Luca was never really the Devil. Just a broken boy who grew into a dangerous man that used violence and fear to shield himself from others. To insulate himself so no one could hurt him.
We all looked like we had gone to Hell and back again. Sonny was on my left, tapping his fingers on his thigh as if he were counting down the seconds. He looked the worst of the Knights, his usually styled blond hair messy and falling onto his forehead. Cole and the Marshall boys sat across from us with their father. All the Cormacs, Battles, and Marshalls waited in silence.
We had the room to ourselves, the silence in the air stirring more nerves in my belly. The hospital staff knew my family well. All the men in my family, apart from Aiden, had been surgeons at Beacon Memorial Hospital. Because of our connections, they overlooked the fact everyone was beat up and covered in blood. It looked like we had attended the Red Wedding from Game of Thrones and somehow lived to tell about it.
“I got you,” Marcello whispered in my ear. “It will be okay.”
I glanced up at him with tears in my eyes. He looked tired, his usually sad eyes hooded. Marcello was trying to hold it together for me.
“You lost your father and possibly your brother in one day.” I laid my head on his arm. “How are you doing, Marcello?”
“I’m fine,” he said without hesitation. “Don’t worry about me.”
I sat up and hooked my arm around his neck. “I will always worry about you.”
“Don’t,” he shot back. “You have enough things to think about at the moment. My dad died with honor. He died protecting us.”
“Protecting me.”
“You are family, Alex.” His knuckles grazed my cheek, and I leaned into his hand. “I would have done the same. So would Luca. All of us would have died to save you.”
“And look where Luca ended up.” I sighed. “If he doesn’t make it… I can’t even…”
“Turn off your brain,” he ordered. “Try to relax.”
“Impossible.” I sighed. “We barely said I do before Luca got shot. I’m pregnant. This baby needs a father.”
He rubbed his hand over my stomach. “I will take care of you and this baby, no matter what happens to Luca.”
“He has to live,” I croaked. “This baby needs him. You, me, the Knights, we all need him. I just went through this with you. I can’t…” I sobbed so hard my stomach hurt. “Marcello, I can’t do this again.”
“You can.” His fingers wove through my hair in a soothing motion. “You’re stronger than you think, Alex.”
“How did your uncle get onto the estate without setting off any alarms?”
“He grew up at the Salvatore Estate.” Marcello frowned as he looked into my eyes. “Only Salvatores know about the secret passages.”
“And me.”
He held me like a child and kissed my forehead. “You’re a Salvatore now.”
“Claudio and his men used the passages?”
Marcello nodded. “The same one you used to leave the estate.”
“I thought there are alarms in the Catacombs.”
“If you know how to disarm them, you can sneak through the house with no one knowing.”
“I think it’s time to seal the doors,” I said with authority. “We can’t risk this happening again, not with a baby on the way.”
“Agreed. I’ll work on it when we get home.”
“Mrs. Salvatore,” a male voice boomed.
I slid off Marcello’s lap and rushed over to the doctor dressed in green scrubs. “I’m Mrs. Salvatore.”
“Your husband pulled through,” the doctor said, and my relief rolled down my arms. “Luca’s heart stopped for thirty seconds, but we revived him. He’s still in recovery.”
“Can I see him?”
“When he wakes up, yes.”