The Don's Deadliest Obsession

I don’t know how I get home. Honestly, I’m not even sure I should have made it.

I must have broken a hundred traffic laws on the way here.

Red lights? I barely saw them.

Speed limits? Fucking irrelevant.

There were moments when I couldn’t even remember which road I was on.

My hands are slick with blood, making the steering wheel slippery beneath my fingers. Every few seconds, my vision starts fading around the edges.

I blink hard, forcing myself to stay awake.

Not here, not now.

I’m not dying in my fucking car.

Not after everything.

My breathing is shallow as I press one hand against my side.

It doesn’t help, the blood keeps seeping through my fingers.

That fucker cut me deep.

I know it, I can feel it with every breath.

The pain is sharp enough to keep me conscious, but the amount of blood I’ve lost is becoming a problem.

I reach for my phone.

My fingers nearly miss it twice but I manage to call Rocco.

He answers almost immediately.

”Boss?”

”Get to the house.”

My voice sounds strange even to me.

It’s Weak and raspy.

”Now.”

There’s a brief silence.

”What happened?”

”I’m bleeding.”

His tone changes instantly.

”How bad?”

”Bad enough for me to call you this late.”

I swallow against the dryness in my throat.

”Ten minutes. I need you here in ten minutes.”

”I’m on my way.”

The call ends and i toss the phone onto the passenger seat.

Ten minutes.

I can make ten minutes, I have to.

I keep driving.

My vision blurs again and i slap my palm against the steering wheel.

”Stay awake.”

My own voice sounds distant.

I force my eyes open and the road comes back into focus.

Barely.

By the time I finally pull into the driveway, I’m breathing harder than I should be.

I shut off the engine.

My head falls against the seat and I close my eyes for a second.

Then I force myself upright.

Get out. Move.

I open the car door. The moment I stand, my knees almost buckle. I grab the side of the car and wait for the dizziness to pass.

It doesn’t so I move anyway.

The walk to the front door feels longer than it has any right to be.

I unlock it. The door swings open and warm light spills into the entryway.

I step inside. Blood drips onto the floor behind me.

I don’t stop or don’t call for anyone. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.

Especially not Nerissa.

The thought of her seeing me covered in blood makes something twist painfully in my chest.

I head straight upstairs. Each step sending another burst of pain through my side.

I grip the railing tightly. By the time I reach my room, my shirt is practically soaked.

I shut the door behind me then stumble toward the bathroom. I grab a clean towel and press it against the wound.

The pressure makes me hiss.

”Fuck.”

I lean against the counter, breathing through my teeth.

The blood is still coming....its too much, far too much.

I look at myself in the mirror. Blood covers half my face from the cut on my head.

My clothes are stained.

My skin is pale and I look like hell.

I almost laugh.

Instead, I press the towel harder against my side.

Rocco better fucking hurry.

Because for the first time in a very long time, I’m not entirely sure my body can keep up with me.

I slide down against the wall, keeping pressure on the wound.

Ten minutes.....just ten minutes. I can survive ten fucking minutes.

I have to.

————

Nerissa’s POV

I’m still shaken from the attack. I keep telling myself I’m fine, but every time I close my eyes, I see the cars chasing us. The gunshots and the screeching tires.

The memories I’ve long tried to surpress threaten to release themselves from the tight leash I’ve kept on them.

I hate that I’m still thinking about it but I hate even more that I’m waiting for Lysander.

The moment I hear the front door unlock, I know it’s him.

Finally.

He has to tell me what he found about the attack.

I sit up in bed and glance down at myself. I’m only wearing my pajamas shorts so I grab a long nightgown from the chair and drape it over myself before slipping out of bed.

I unlock my bedroom door to find the hallway is quiet.

I step out and make my way toward the stairs, rubbing my arms as a strange chill crawls over my skin.

Then I reach the banister leading to the end of the stairs and I stop. My eyes drop to the floor.

Blood....that has to be blood right?.

My heart skips.

There are bloody footprints leading across the floor.

One after another. Dark red against the polished surface.

Maybe it’s not his, maybe someone else is hurt.

But who else would walk into this house bleeding?

”Lysander?”

No answer.

My pulse begins hammering as I grip the banister and follow the footprints.

The farther I go, the more blood I see.

My stomach twists.

”Lysander?”

Still nothing.

The footprints lead down the hallway and toward what I assume is his room since I haven’t been to his side of the mansion before.

I stop outside his door to find it’s It’s closed.

My fingers hover over the handle as a horrible feeling settles in my chest.

He better not be dead...uncle will definitely hand me over to another man, since I’m already tested goods at this point, the best offer he could possibly get is an old gizzard. I don’t understand Made men’s obsession with a virgin wife. Pussy is pussy. It shouldn’t matter.

I shake my head trying to focus back in the moment as I slowly reach for the door handle then I push the door open.

”Lysander?”

The room is dark and empty but my eyes quickly adjust.

Then I notice the bathroom door, It’s slightly open and there’s blood on the floor.

A lot of it.

I push the bathroom door wider.

”Lysander!”