THE CAREGIVER HE CALLED A NOBODY TOOK FIVE BULLETS FOR THE MAFIA BOSS’S MOTHER—THEN HIS ENTIRE EMPIRE WATCHED HIM BEG HER TO LIVE

"No, no, no..." Marco choked out.

He scrambled forward through the blood, dropping his gun, ignoring the rain pouring through the shattered door.

He slammed his large, calloused hands against the gaping wounds in Lena’s chest and collarbone, trying desperately to stop the dark red tide surging between his fingers.

"Marco!" Isabella sobbed, her hands clutching Lena’s limp face, tears streaming down her old, blood-spattered cheeks. "Save her! She took them for me! She took all of them!"

Marco didn't hear his mother. He couldn't hear the sirens beginning to wail in the distance. He couldn't hear Caruso screaming for a medical transport over the radio.

All he could see was Lena’s pale, blood-drenched face.

The girl he had called a nobody twenty-four hours ago. The girl whose life he had thrown onto the floor like trash.

"Lena," Marco rasped, his voice breaking—a raw, ragged sound no human being had ever heard come from his throat. "Lena, look at me. Look at me right now!"

Lena’s hazel eyes slowly, painfully flicked toward his.

They were unfocused, dimming rapidly as her brain lost oxygen. Her lips parted, another small bubble of crimson popping against her pale skin.

"Stay with me!" Marco begged, pressing his weight down onto her shoulder, his own suit jacket soaked through with her blood. "Do you hear me?! Stay with me! Don't you dare close your eyes!"

He had never begged in his life. Not to God, not to his father, not to the men who had held guns to his head when he was twenty years old.

Now, on his knees in the mud and blood of a 31st Street ditch, the head of the DeLuca empire was weeping.

"Caruso!" Marco roared, his head snapping back toward the open door, his face contorted in pure, terrifying agony. "WHERE IS THE MEDEVAC?! IF SHE DIES, I WILL KILL EVERY SURGEON IN THIS CITY!"

"Two minutes, Boss!" Caruso screamed back, his own voice shaking as he looked into the rear of the car and saw his boss covered in the caregiver's blood. "They're landing on the highway!"

Marco turned back to Lena. He leaned his face down until his forehead touched hers, his dark hair mixing with the wet chestnut locks plastered to her forehead.

"You're not dying," Marco whispered fiercely into her ear, his breath ragged, his hands pressing harder against her bleeding chest. "You hear me, Lena? You don't get to leave. I won't let you. Stay with me... please... please, Lena... live..."

Lena’s hand, frail, cold, and covered in mud, twitched slightly against the leather seat.

Her fingers caught the edge of Marco’s sleeve.

"Danny..." she rasped, the word barely a whisper of air leaving her failing lungs. "...my... brother..."

"I'll take care of him!" Marco cried out instantly, his tears spilling onto her blood-stained cheek. "I'll give him everything! I'll buy him the hospital! Just stay awake! Keep breathing for me! Please!"

Her eyes fluttered.