Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT HE ALMOST LOST EVERYTHING
The attack came on a Friday.
Vincent was leaving a meeting downtown when two vehicles blocked his car.
Gunfire erupted.
His driver was wounded.
Sal returned fire while Vincent pulled the driver away from the shattered window.
By the time police arrived, the attackers had fled.
Vincent survived.
Barely.
A bullet had grazed his shoulder.
Another struck the car inches from his head.
When I arrived at the hospital, he was sitting upright in bed.
His arm was bandaged.
His face pale.
I stopped in the doorway.
He looked up.
“Elena.”
I stared.
Then burst into tears.
Vincent's expression changed.
“Hey.”
I crossed the room.
Stopped beside the bed.
And looked at him.
“You promised.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“You promised you wouldn't start a war.”
His face softened.
“I didn't.”
“Then why are you bleeding?”
He looked down.
“Because someone else decided to.”
I swallowed.
He reached toward me.
Then stopped.
“May I?”
I nodded.
He took my hand.
I looked at the bandage.
“You could have died.”
Vincent's expression changed.
For a moment, the powerful man disappeared.
And I saw someone frightened.
Not for himself.
For what his death might do to the people around him.
He squeezed my hand.
“I know.”
I looked at him.
Then whispered, “I don't want to lose you.”
His eyes lifted.
May you like
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then he said, “I don't want to lose you either.”
