Wicked Fame: A mafia stalker romance (Wicked Men Book 2)

I dream that I’m falling into a red sea. My body plunges into the depths, seduced by gravity. Down, down, down.

I scream but liquid fills my lungs. I will sink to the bottom. I wonder what’s at the bottom. What lies at the end of everything?

A sharp pain incinerates my nerves through the darkness.

My eyelids jerk upward. Light floods my vision. Creamy walls, a hallway…I’m still outside Gabriele’s apartment.

A shadowy figure approaches me. My chest feels so uncomfortable like there’s a shard of glass stuck inside it. My gaze reaches down to my fingers which are stained red. Blood is pooling under my floral blouse, changing the color of the pink roses to maroon.

Cinnabar. Vermillion. Carmine.

Why am I recalling all the shades of red paint right now? Oh, I suppose it’s because red is one of my favorite hues.

A choked sound knifes through my throat but there’s no air. None at all. I can’t breathe. Did the bullet pierce my lungs? Am I going to die?

More than anything, I feel like I’m slowly choking. The worst part is, I can’t tell how much of that is due to the bullet lodged in me and how much of it started when Gabriele told me he’d never see me again.

My bones closed around the softness of my hopes and dreams for us as he tore them apart.

I guess it’s what I deserve for being a burden to him.

My gaze pulses between bright spots of light and darkness. I can’t even see the face of the man who shot me. Who is he? What did I do to him? Why does everybody hate me?

“Francesca, don’t move.” The intoxicating pitch of Gabriele’s voice ruptures my rambling thought bubble. “Dammit! You’ve been shot.”

Gabriele’s huge body appears in front of me. His arm is raised. The shiny body of a gun is wedged between his fingers. Without wasting a single moment, he pulls the trigger. Two gunshots shatter the silence.

The shadowy figure before me crumples. Gabriele goes over to him, steps on his hand, and removes his weapon. He says something but I can’t hear what.

Oh my god, It’s all happening so fast. I can’t make sense of anything.

“Don’t…” I strain my throat. My chest is about to split open. “…kill him. Okay?”

Gabriele’s at my side in a heartbeat. “I promise. Baby, now stop talking.”

His coat lands on top of me, though it barely does anything to stop the blood from flowing. There’s too much blood, too much of it.

Gabriele’s on the phone now, talking to someone in an angry, scared tone. I hope it’s not the hospital. My limbs are failing. I don’t think they can save me now.

I may not live much longer.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault. I thought I could protect you…but I failed…” His forehead is bowed against mine. I never imagined I’d see big, bad Gabriele Russo crying but he’s bawling out his eyes right now. “Francesca, don’t you dare die or I’ll never be able to forgive myself. Are you listening? Don’t close your eyes, Francesca. Don’t give up. You have to live so I can earn your forgiveness.”

My brain’s hazy. It hurts too much to keep my eyes open so I close them. It hurts too much to live so I hope the pain disappears soon.

Pain becomes numbness. Numbness becomes sleep. My life is draining out of me.

This isn’t how I imagined my demise would look like. But it’s so much better. I get to die in the arms of the man I love.

The only tragedy is that he’ll never know I loved him.