Sabrina, the sweet, bubbly girl next door, never imagined being pulled into a world of danger. But meeting Julian, a captivating mafia member with a dark past, changes everything.
As she falls for him, she's torn between love and the dangerous secr...
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Sabrina was sitting there, barely holding herself together, and yet she was worrying about me. Me, of all people.
While she was covered in bruises, fresh cuts, and God knows what kind of pain, she still found the strength to tell me I needed rest.
I couldn't help the way my jaw clenched at her words.
"Baby, you were beaten to a pulp, and you're worried about me?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.
I crouched down again in front of her, brushing my fingers lightly against her knee. "You need to let me take care of you, Sabrina."
She just looked at me, her eyes filled with exhaustion and pain but still so damn stubborn. "I'm fine," she whispered, but I could tell she wasn't.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "This is just for now," I said, motioning to the bandages I'd put on her. "I'm calling a doctor to come and take a proper look at everything. I'm not leaving anything to chance."
She nodded weakly, her head barely moving. It didn't make me feel any better. If anything, it made me feel worse.
She didn't have the energy to fight me on it, and that wasn't like her.
"Alright," I said, standing up. "Let's get you some real food. You need more than just an apple." I started toward the kitchen, but her voice stopped me in my tracks.
"I don't want to eat," she said softly, her voice so quiet I almost didn't hear her.
I turned back to her, frowning. "Sabrina—"
"I just want to be with you," she cut me off, looking up at me with those tired, pleading eyes.
The weight of her words hit me like a brick. She didn't care about food, about her wounds, about anything else—she just wanted me.
How the hell could I say no to that?
I crossed the room back to her, crouching down again. "Alright," I said, my voice low. "Then we'll eat together. I'll make something quick, and we'll sit right here, okay?"
She hesitated for a moment before nodding. I could tell it wasn't what she wanted, but I couldn't let her keep skipping meals.
She needed something in her system to keep her going.
I stood up and moved to the kitchen, grabbing the quickest thing I could think of—some bread, eggs, and cheese for grilled sandwiches.
It wasn't much, but it would be enough to get her by.
As I worked, I kept glancing over my shoulder at her. She was slumped in the chair, her arms wrapped around herself, her head tilted to the side like she was trying to stay awake but didn't have the energy.
My chest tightened. She didn't deserve this. None of it.
If I had been faster, smarter... I shook the thought away, focusing on the sandwiches.
