Femme Fatale Reloaded (Pericolo #2)

“You know, from the moment I met you, I knew you would make me work. But I also knew that you would never let me regret a moment of it, and I don’t. Not even standing here now, Amelia. I would never regret this whirlwind we’ve become. You said I was the silence in your chaos. Well, you’re that loud resounding boom in my silence. You tear my every wall down; you corrupt my soul to the point of loving you, and way past the point of ever letting you go. You invade my system like you’re a drug and I can’t kick that habit. I don’t want to. I want to grow old with you and make a life and create memories. I am yours because you made your mark. You consumed me and made me see past one night with you. It’s not about to end here, Amelia. We have years, decades, to laugh and cry and love and hate. Don’t let him steal our love story from us. Please, don’t let him win and take you from me.” He’s crying now, harder than ever, and I want nothing more than to console him. He’s escalating into a new form of desperation as he attempts to stem the bleeding from my stomach and keep me awake all at once. "Ti amerò per sempre, dolcezza. That’s the deal, sweetheart. I will love you forever, but I can’t do that without you. This is not how our story ends! This cannot be how it ends. It’s not written like this. This isn’t part of my dream for us!”


I want to say something back, but it requires the strength I no longer have. He’s confessed his heart to me on too many occasions and this time I can’t recite what I feel. This time I’m silenced into breaking his heart when I want anything but that. I don’t want the fight to be against his love – I want to endure every single, tiny, graceful drop of it.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. I need you to stay with me,” he begs me, his voice becoming more shrill. He must notice how close I am to succumbing to the darkness because, if I can feel it, he has to be watching it happening. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, Amelia.”

I’m too tired to even form words. I open my mouth to say something, but I can’t speak. I fail at telling him all that I want to. I want to tell him that I’m sorry for waiting this long to realize that I am wholeheartedly in love with him and every one of his actions to prove his worth to me. I want to kiss him one last time, to hear him tell me that he loves me and wants me to grow old with him. I want for him to take the pain away and wake me from this nightmare. I want to run free and get my fairy tale.

I feel the words I want to say wrap around my throat, strangling with every syllable they use, but as my eyes fix onto Zane’s, I build up the courage, the energy, the ability to say all I need to.

“Kiss me,” I whisper, struggling as I do so.

I watch his eyes close at my request, as if he knows it could be our last moment of intimacy.

“Kiss me quick.”

Even if this is the last time, I want to feel his lips on mine one last time. As if he knows the severity of this moment, he leans in, delicately placing his lips on mine. For one moment, the pain disappears, leaving me calm and at ease. Yet as he pulls away, realism swoops in and it’s just Zane and me and this dance with fate.

“You’re not going to die today, Amelia,” he tells me. “This is not the day I leave you. This is not it. I know the day I lose you, and it’s when we’re old and grey and after we’ve lived that happy life you dream of. It’s not today.”

I want to believe him, but as my breathing struggles on and I feel more blood hitting the back of my throat, I know I’m out of chances. I waited too long in a bid to protect myself, but in the end, I’ve broken not only my own heart, but his all over again.

As I begin to drift off and the pain numbs, the only thing I truly remember is Zane’s earth-shattering cry of my name.

But it’s not enough because darkness always win.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


I never thought I could feel this detached from my body, but apparently, it's happened. Now I lay here, my mind racing a million miles a second, and I begin to take note of my heavy limbs, foggy head, and then the searing, indescribably painful ache in my stomach.

But I don’t open my eyes. I lay in the dark abyss, taking in every ounce of stimuli around me.

"Zane," I hear Carlo's tired voice speak. "Look, man, you need to get some sleep."

"Sleep isn't important right now," Zane retorts, snappy and with equal measures of exhaustion. "Amelia is my only priority." I feel the growl he exerts; the gruffness tells me that I'm missing what's occurred. He’s angry, resentful, and he sounds almost full of sorrow, but I’m alive, obviously. "I can't leave her, Carlo. I can't walk out of this room and miss her waking up. It's been too long. I can't leave now."

It’s been too long? But I only just closed my eyes, just to sway the tiredness, but it was only for a few seconds.

"But the doctors said," Carlo speaks again.

"I don't care what the doctors have said; I won't have her waking up alone or without me here!” Zane’s retort is snappier this time, and it hits me hard to hear him this torn up. “I need to see her wake up. I can’t miss that moment.”

“But you’re gonna end up in a hospital bed before long,” Carlo replies, worrisome of Zane’s reckless feat to remain by my side. “Lia wouldn’t want that!”

“I don’t care.”

That one keyword – hospital – triggers everything and as the dams burst, an all-consuming wave hits me, forcing me to remember every single detail. I’m panic stricken as I remember the events before and realize they can't have been some malicious nightmare my brain concocted. I need to wake up and find out what's happened.

I struggle with myself to move, fighting through the fog clinging to me as if it'll never let go. And that's when I manage it– a tiny, helpless mew escapes from between my dry, chapped lips. In that instance, I feel a hand wrap around mine, and I immediately know it's Zane. His large hand engulfs mine and the comfort it brings about causes me to have more fight to wake up wholly.

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