Married to the mafia boss Series

Carmelo

“No!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

Arabella’s body hits the sand. Her white slip now strained red with blood. Blind with rage, I charge after Samuel who shoots again and misses with shaky hands. He shoots again and it grazes the side of my thigh. He aims toward my face while at close range and when his finger pulls the trigger I close my eyes tight.

Click.

I open my eyes to see I’m still alive and also that Samuel has run out of bullets. I punch him across the face and he falls to the floor cowering. “I’m sorry!” He shouts and covers his face with his hands protectively.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

I grab the revolver in the sand and begin to beat him with it. “What have you fucking done?!” I yell in his face. I clock him over the head with the heavy metal of the gun. His temple begins to bleed and I continue to hit him until his cowering stops as well as his breathing.

I scramble across the sand and pick Arabella’s limp body up. Blood continues to pool from her stomach and there’s so much blood. Fuck, there’s so much blood. “Stay with me,” I say through a shuddering breath. “Please! Please! You can’t die. You can’t die because I am going to make you Mrs. Basila a-and were going to live on the beach. I am going to buy you a cat and a dog. Okay? Okay?! That’s why you have to be okay?” Tears streak my vision. “Please, baby, don’t leave me.”

Forcing myself out of hysterics, I pick her up and groan when my muscles strain on my shoulder and thigh from the bullets. Push through, I tell myself. I have to get her to a hospital. I run helplessly in the sand as her body dangles from my arms. I scream for help but no one comes. I run past the hotel and try to find the car I hid in the forest nearby when it was dark.

Fuck. Please tell me I remember where I put the car. I begin to limp from the pain on my thigh and my arm starts to fatigue from carrying her lifeless weight. I throw her over my good shoulder and push through.

Finally, I find the car and I put her in the backseat. I scramble for the keys I put in the dashboard and my hands are shaking as I start the engine. I must be going well over a hundred miles per hour because a cop has been riding my tail with his sirens going, and despite that I keep driving.

I follow a sign which leads me to a hospital relatively nearby. It only takes ten minutes with the speed I am going to get there. I park in front of the hospital and the cop is yelling at me to freeze. I shake my head and can hardly breathe or speak as I open the back door and grab Arabella’s bloody body.

The cop curses under his breath and disappears inside the hospital to grab help. I can barely make it to the front door when I trip and fall down hard on my knees.

The doctors come out with a stretcher for Arabella, taking her away from me. I reach out to grab her but they wheel her away. A few other doctors kneel on the ground and start assessing my wounds.

“I’m fine,” I shake my head dazed.

“You’re not fine,” one of the doctors says. “There’s no exit wound in his shoulder. Come on, we have to get you to a room.”

I let them take me away because I’m lost. I’m lost without Arabella and I’m crippled with the thought of them pronouncing her dead. I want to be in the room with her now, but my best bet is they are taking her to surgery. The two doctors have their arms around me as they lead me into the hospital. I can’t even take in my surroundings, I am so lost. I feel as though I am mindlessly wandering. Nothing feels real. Everything is blurry and silent and the pain in my heart feels worse than the pain in my shoulder and thigh.

***

I must have passed out because when I open my eyes I am lying in bed. My clothes have been stripped and I’m wearing a flimsy blue hospital gown. I move my shoulder and groan. I bring my hand to the wound to see they have cleaned and bandaged it up-same with my thigh.

I shoot up in bed and press the call button frantically. Nurses and doctors flood my room ready to save my life. They look at me puzzled when I’m sitting up perfectly fine.

“Where. Is. She?” They must have me on some pain killers because I feel drowsy and slow.

“Why don’t we worry about-”

“That’s my wife!”

The doctor and nurses exchanged looks. The male doctor sighs and says, “She’s still in surgery. I will keep you updated when I know more.”

They exit my room and I start to scream. I want to be out of this fucking hospital bed. I want to be with Arabella. I know she’s not scared because she brave and strong but I’m fucking scared as hell. I’m scared that the next time the doctor enters my room he’ll tell me she’s dead. Despair washes over me like a wave and I curse God because I want more time. I need more time with her!

She said she wanted me to play violin for her one last time. I never got to honor her wish because we were too busy. I should’ve played for her the minute we got into the room. She was so happy about our plans and I was so happy to make them come true. You can’t fucking take her away now, not when she’s sure of herself. Not when she’s finally decided to be selfish and happy.

I weep silently to myself. I’ve been through a lot but nothing compares to this heart-wrenching feeling of having a part of my soul ripped from me. That’s exactly what she is, a part of my soul. My soulmate. My other half. It is cruel to take that from me, not when we’ve finally opened our eyes to see what has always been in front of us. If you have to take someone, God, please take me. Take us both if you have to, just don’t leave me without her.

The door opens and I close my eyes. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear the bad news. I’m not ready.

“You son of a bitch,” I crack one of my eyes open to see Gaetano accompanied by Lazzaro. “What did you do to her?”

“Where the fuck is she?” Lazzaro crosses his arms against his chest.

“In surgery,” I groan. My eyes are still red and wet from my tears, but I don’t care. Upkeeping the image of masculinity means nothing when the love of your life is dying.

“What the fuck did you do to her? I’ll kill you! You bastardo, you took my fiancée from me!”

I wasn’t going to say it was her choice because if she makes it out of surgery the hell if I’ll let him kill her. “I didn’t do anything. It wasn’t me.”

“What happened?” Gaetano grabs a fistful of my hospital gown and growls in my face.

“I was escorting her to your wedding when the car was jacked.”

“The driver said he woke up on the cement just outside the villa. Who the hell could have gotten through the gates?” Lazzaro asks warily.

“The same person who snuck into Arabella’s room her first night here,” I continue. “He tied us up and threw us in the backseat-”

Gaetano laughs interrupting me. “And you said he was one of the best bodyguards?” He looks over his shoulder at Lazzaro and then back at me. “You mean to tell me, he single-handedly knocked out the driver and then somehow got you and Arabella as hostages?”

“Will you let me tell the goddamn story?” I lose my temper. They go silent waiting for me to continue. “He posed as the driver. I didn’t hear or see him knock the driver out. He sat in the front seat and I wasn’t paying an attention. I was listening to Arabella talk about how excited she was for the wedding,” Despite the words being lies, I still hate saying them to his smug face. “He pulled over and I thought we had broken down. So, I got out of the backseat and walked around the car to see if anything was damaged. He knocked me out from behind and when I woke up we were both tied in the backseat.

“He drove us to a remote location. I don’t know exactly where but it was near a beach. He wanted us secluded so he could execute us both. He shot Arabella twice as well as me and after a few rounds of missing, he ran out of bullets. I killed him. Then I came here.”

“Fuck,” Gaetano runs his hands through his greasy hair. “Is she going to be okay?” I hear a hint of worry in his voice.

“I don’t know,” I croak out.

He actually believes my story. The good news is if we both survive were in the clear, but if we both survive Gaetano will never let her out of his sight and they’ll probably get married in her hospital room.

“Thank you for saving my fiancée,” he says with an almost pained expression.

Gaetano and Lazzaro, without even asking me, make themselves comfortable in my room as they wait impatiently for the doctor to give us news. I watch as Gaetano paces, and Lazzaro sulks in the chair occasionally shaking his head and muttering under his breath. I seem to keep drifting in and out of consciousness from the meds, but I try to keep myself awake for as long as possible. I won’t miss the news when the doctor finally comes in.