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“Adriana?” I yell again. I race to the living room in search of her. The front door is ajar. I grip the edge hard as I open the door wide. There she is, lying on the floor by the door with her hand pressed on her bleeding stomach. She’s breathing heavily.
“Who fucking did this?” I yell.
I close the distance between us, kneeling beside her. Dead bodies covered in blood are scattered around my house. They are my men.
Fuck.
But I’m more worried about Adriana. I don’t double check to search for the fucking cunt who did this as I hook my hands around Adriana’s neck and the back of her knees.
“Adriana! Stay with me, Poppy.”
She groans as I try to pick her up. “He sh… shot me,” she whispers.
Her top around the bullet wound is slowly getting soaked with blood. I carry her into the house and lay her on the couch. She whimpers as I carefully lift her top up a little bit to see the wound. I let out a shaky breath. It looks like the bullet grazed the side of her stomach, but seeing blood coming out of her makes me enraged.
“Shit!” Running to the kitchen, I grab a towel and run back to her.
She winces in pain as I press the towel against her wound. “Arghhh!”
I guide her hand to hold the towel, applying pressure to it. Her eyelids quiver as she struggles to keep her eyes open. I can hear her loud breaths.
“You're going to be okay, Poppy. I’ll be right back.” I run back upstairs to get my phone. I need to have Daniel bring a doctor to the house. I should have gotten a new in-house doctor, but considering what’s been going on, I decided against it, as it would be easy to bring in the wrong person under a false guise.
I whisk my phone from the brown wooden nightstand beside my bed, running back down to stay with Adriana. While dialing Daniel’s number, I skip the stairs to get down to her.
It’s all my fault. It’s all my fucking fault. Adriana wouldn’t have been caught in this mess if I hadn’t screwed up and basically forced her to leave. I’m a fucking mess, and she’s hurt because of me.
“Daniel, I need a fucking doctor here now,” I say as he answers the call. “Adriana’s hurt; hurry.” I cut the call, moving closer to Adriana. Her eyes are slowly shutting.
“Look at me, Adriana.” With little distance between us, I cup her face with my palms.
She opens her eyes wide and stares at me. “Get… get your hands off me,” she grunts. She tries to shift, but I keep my hands firm on her, stopping her from moving.
“Daniel is coming with help.” I move my hand to hold the towel on her wound, and she attempts to move her head to the other side again, but I gently hold her chin still so she’s facing me.
“I know I’m a fucking asshole. And I said some screwed up shit.”
She groans, her chest heaving.
“I didn’t mean any of that. This. You. It’s all fucking new to me. Just stay still for me, Poppy,” I add.
She nods lightly and continues to stare at me.
I run to open the door as I hear a knock. Daniel is by the door, with Larner behind him. Larner has been our family’s doctor for years; about fucking time he resumed from the break he took.
“Hurry! She is still bleeding,” I hurriedly usher them in.
“What happened here?” Daniel asks as he stays by the door and stares at the dead bodies outside.
“I don’t have any fucking idea, Daniel.”
I lead Larner to the couch Adriana is lying on. He has a black leather briefcase with him. Adriana’s eyes are barely open as I remove the towel from her wound.
“It doesn't look too bad, Alessandro. I'll make sure there aren't any fragments from where it grazed her and stich her up,” Larner says before adjusting his glasses and staring at her wound, then back at me.
“Stop fucking talking and help her!” I pinch my forehead, raking my fingers through my hair, angered as I tug at their roots.
Larner drops his briefcase by the couch and bends to access the wound. “Right away, sir.” He opens the briefcase to reveal his working tools.
