The sinister syndicate

Chapter 10

Hey guys!! Long chapter for those who been waiting (:

I awoke to the persistent sound of banging on my door, my heart racing as I jolted upright, the ache of my wound a sharp reminder of the night's events. With a sense of urgency, I pushed myself off the floor, every movement sending a wave of discomfort through me.

Determined to face whoever was on the other side of the door, I made my way up the stairs, my steps slow and deliberate. As I reached my bedroom, I headed to the closet, grabbing a hoodie that would conceal the bandages wrapped around my side.

With a deep breath, I walked out of my room and towards the front door, my hand trembling slightly as I peered through the peephole. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of Marco standing on the other side, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.

Unlocking the door, I cracked it open just enough to meet his gaze. "And why are you here?" I asked, my tone guarded yet tinged with a hint of curiosity.

Marco's eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw clenched in a mixture of worry and annoyance. "I've been banging for over 30 minutes, let me in before I kick this damn door down," he replied, his voice firm and unwavering.

With a resigned sigh, I opened the door wider, allowing Marco to step inside. I closed the door behind me, locking it.

As I stood before Marco, trying to conceal the pain and discomfort that radiated from my wound, he met my gaze with a knowing look. "You're hurt," he observed, his tone gentle yet firm.

I attempted to brush off his concern, insisting, "I'm fine, Marco. It's nothing." The words felt hollow on my lips, a feeble attempt to maintain the facade of strength and independence I had carefully constructed.

But Marco wasn't easily swayed. With a keen eye, he continued, "Your body language tells a different story, Serena. You can't hide it from me."

The weight of his observation hung heavy in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the truths I had been trying to conceal. And then, in a moment of raw honesty, I confessed, "I got shot, the bullet is still in me."

Silence enveloped us, Marco's features hardening as the reality of my revelation sank in. I could see the concern in his eyes, a mix of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

As I braced myself to reveal the secrets I had been keeping from him, "Look, Marco, there's something I need to tell you... about me, and-" I began, but he interrupted before I could finish my sentence.

"I don't want to talk until that bullet is out of you," Marco's voice was firm, his gaze unwavering as he took charge of the situation. As I rolled my eyes and moved to retreat to my room, the weight of my injury threatened to overwhelm me, a sharp pang of pain causing me to falter.

"Shit!" I hissed, my balance wavering as Marco's strong grip steadied me.

"Shit Tesoro, don't fall," Marco's voice was laced with concern, his Italian accent adding a touch of warmth to his words.

"I'm fine," I reassured him, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in my tone as we made our way to the basement. Once there, Marco guided me to the table at the center of the room, his touch gentle yet assured.

He looked around, trying to find bandages, alcohol, etc which I had down here. As for other stuff. as he found the stuff he prepared to extract the bullet lodged inside me.

As he worked, I found solace in the pressure of his arm, a silent reassurance in the midst of my vulnerability and pain. With each passing moment, the barrier between us began to crumble, the unspoken truths and shared moments forging a connection that transcended words.