Page 89 of A New Days Don

My father’s voice booms in my mind.

I raised you better than this. Protect your damn woman, boy.

Tears burn, but I listen to the inner voice, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to look away from Mila. I push the tsunami wave of vulnerability, pain, sorrow, and hysteria, trying to break through the carefully built barrier in my mind, forcing them back to their mental box so I can focus.

Flicking my gaze back to my men in the front seat as they speed through the city, I growl, “You better fucking step on it.”

Caleb depresses the gas pedal further, allowing the SUV to reach its top speed.

“Someone was either trying to kill Mila or me. They missed a critical shot, but that doesn’t mean they are done. I want a private room and female doctors and nurses. No men.” I state explicitly knowing my woman doesn’t want any man touching her when she’s most vulnerable, though she never has to worry with me around, I will ensure anyone who comes near her unconscious body is acting in the utmost professional manner

My voice is steady and dominating. Mila needs a leader right now, and I’m going to fucking be one for her. “I want more backup posted at all entrances, stairwells, elevators, and snipers outside keeping an eye. Nobody gets in or out of the hospital without me knowing. Do I make myself clear?”

Adriano nods, his face stone-cold serious as he begins to text a flurry of people. In a second, he is on the phone, speaking back and forth with Franny, one of the Bianchi family’s loyal enforcers. I tune him out as I hear my nickname.

Mine.

Soft blue eyes meet mine, more life in them now than before, and relief washes over me, “Hey, angelo mio.”

“I love when you call me that…” She murmurs, her head lolling. I know she is speaking a little deliriously right now, but fuck if those words don’t make my chest puff. Love. Not like.

Love.

“Stay with me, and I will keep calling you that until we are both old and grey, angelo mio,” I repeat the nickname, and her lips pull back weakly.

I swallow the thick knot of panic that has taken shape in my throat, but it is no use because my heart and what’s left of my soul don’t exist in my body anymore. I’m looking right at my whole world, and she’s pouring her beautiful, pure blood all over my hand.

Now’s not the time. Don’t say it. Just wait.

No. Fuck it.

“A while ago, you asked me who could possibly control me and what I do. That person is you. You are my greatest fear, but more than that, you are my greatest love. I love you, Mila.” I tell her breathlessly, something so close to a pained whine I would be embarrassed had it not been for her. At first, she doesn’t look to have registered it. Her eyes stare at me in her loss-of-blood delirium, but then her mouth opens with a giggle.

“You can’t say those things when I’m in the process of dying, it’s not fair.” She pouts as playfully as she can with her face pale and lips dry.

“You aren’t dying,” I growl.

“Your timing sucks…” She groans as my men roll over a speed bump. I give them a warning look, though Adriano has moved the rearview mirror so we have privacy while I lay my heart out for her.

Mila coughs weakly as she smiles, her pale lips pulling across her white teeth, “I thought they were scarier than that…”

“She’s plenty terrifying, especially when she’s holding my heart.” I press a kiss to her forehead.

Adriano and Caleb both mind their own business as we pull into the hospital. The second the car has stopped, I jump out, an apology slipping from my lips when I notice her wince. I proceed more carefully into the emergency room, not stopping to speak with reception, as I run her to the back where the beds are, shouting at the nurses and doctors to help my woman.

In an instant, the emergency room turns into a flurry of white coats and scrubs, rushing to Mila’s aid. I snap at the men, kicking them off her case, and demanding female attention and a private room. We are taken around the corner to a surgical room, and everyone gets to work. Mila blinks with blurry eyes, and I caress her hair, staying next to her as they cut her shirt from her body.

Her weak, pale hand grips mine, and I know she is having flashbacks, but today is not that day. I am here, and we are a team now.

“We need O neg,” One of the doctors says.

“Adriano!” I snap, and he pops his head in. I keep my body in front of Mila, shielding her from his gaze. Though I have no doubt in my mind he would keep his gaze averted from her, I take no chances. “Go get O-negative blood. I want it yesterday.”

Adriano is back in an instant, three bags of O negative in his hands. He gives them to the nurse at the door, and she hooks one of the bags up to Mila’s intravenous line.

“You should start to feel a little better in a minute, Miss Lewis.” The nurse speaks politely as Mila’s consciousness wavers.

They work on the wound, cleaning and closing it neatly. The doctor takes her time while doing her due diligence. Just as the doctor suggested, as blood floods into Mila, her skin begins to pinken, and her head no longer tilts to the side. I keep my gaze steadily connected with hers, grounding myself with the knowledge that she is alright.