She drew back, shock clear on her face. It was blunt, but it was the only way I could ask. I had to know the fact of it—immediately.
“No. No, no, no.” She squeezed my hand with both of hers. “They weren’t here for that. They just wanted us dead.”
My heart rate steadied as resolution settled over me. “I will find a way to make this right. His brothers, his family, will pay—and I will blow up the Belmonte-Ruiz cartel. What I did before, trying to hinder their business, was nothing. Now I’ll come for them.”
“But first, you’ll rest,” she said, drawing the sheet to my chest. She picked up the fallen IV, sliding the metal stand closer to the bedside. “And you won’t hurt anyone innocent on my behalf. Take comfort in the fact that no man who entered these walls with ill intentions survived.”
“That gives me little comfort. They’re just the tail of the snake.” I sniffed, though admittedly, I was happy to hear it. “Not even one made it out?”
“Not even one. Hold still.” She lifted the edge of a bandage on my torso, examining the wound. “Some came close to escaping, but your men blasted their helicopter out of the sky. You’ve equipped your staff—your people—well. They’re composed in the face of danger, like you. Most of them are alive because of it.”
It was hardly the time for praise, but I could see she was trying to comfort me. Her interest in my feelings was new—and very welcome. “They came in through the roof then,” I said.
“Alejandro thinks they hacked the security system via the cell phone I snuck in. See, when Diego gave it to me at my dad’s house, he wanted me to get info he could pass on to Belmonte-Ruiz.” She took a breath, her cheeks pink as her theories spilled out. “They’d then able to access the cameras around the house to get a lay of the land. They would’ve needed that to down the system long enough to breach the walls via helicopter, enter through the roof, override the back-up generators and security—”
“I get it.” I didn’t need to hear more.
They’d flooded my home. Hurt my staff. Entered my bedroom. Threatened Natalia’s life.
They’d put something in my drink. Cornered Max. Shot Daniel.
Distantly, I heard Natalia call my name. “They’ll pay for this.”
She forced my fist open, slipping her delicate hand in my bruised and roughened one. “Cristiano, please, calm down. You’re in no state to get upset.”
“They know I won’t sit back and do nothing,” I said.
“Which is why you have to,” she said. “Nobody knows what’s happening yet. It could be a trap, or some kind of diversion, or . . .”
I didn’t hear the rest. Just her touch brought my heart rate down to a manageable level.
Natalia sighed as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Don’t you want to know how you are?”
I could tell without hearing from the doctors that my injuries were relatively mild. I’d been stitched up, and no doubt they’d try to keep me in bed for some ridiculous amount of time. I knew from experience, though, that the pain could be worse, and since I was already restless, that I’d be on my feet in no time.
It made no sense, though. I should’ve been dead. Nobody had ever gotten me on my knees and at their mercy for long enough to stick me—what, three or four times? They’d completely immobilized me. I could’ve watched him draw a gun and put it to my temple—and done nothing about it.
“Some of the doctors think you were lucky,” Natalia said softly. “But I know you make your own luck. The valet didn’t hit any vital organs, and he missed your heart completely.”
I brought her hand to my mouth, watching her face, asking silent permission as I pressed a kiss to her knuckles, her palm. “That’s because I’m no normal man, as I’ve told you. My organs are impenetrable.”
“And your heart?” she asked. “Is it impenetrable, too?”
“No, but it wasn’t where he thought it would be,” I said. “Because it was here. With you.”
“Cristiano,” she said on a breath. She pushed some of my hair off my forehead, and it took everything I had not to close my eyes and give in to the feeling of her fingers on my skin. I’d already had her out of my sight too long, though. I wanted to get my fill of her. “The doctor didn’t say you hit your head. Are you feeling okay?” she asked. “Has this near-death experience made you . . . romantic?”
“Only reinforced what I already knew—time is precious. I won’t waste it anymore by holding back.”
“You, hold back?” she asked and ventured a small smile. “Since when?”
I wished she’d crumble once and for all, fall into my arms, and seek safety in me, but still . . . she held back. Something had changed—I could feel her giving in, but she wasn’t completely there yet.