Emilia ✔️ NOW PUBLISHED!

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Authors note: Hello Swanlings! 🦢 please don't forget that the published versions help me pursue my dream of writing. You can find them on Amazon, kindle, and Barnes & Noble! They're professionally edited with added content, scenes, and EPILOGUES! Emilia's alone is SIXTEEN PAGES 🥰

Emilia.

I've been sitting in this underground box for an undetermined amount of time, sobbing. The sound of the padlock that Aiden locked me in here with being messed with makes my body go rigid. This is it, they found me. Light filters in as the door is opened, it must be morning. How did the time pass so agonizingly slow? I narrow my eyes trying to see who it is through the harsh morning light, praying that it's Aiden.

"Ms. Emilia?" Howard's voice is small, different than usual.

"I'm here." I reply in a shaky voice. Unable to lift myself, he helps me out. As he carries me in his arms across the rooftop in slow movements, I begin to wonder how he's alive. But from the looks of his bullet riddled jacket and blood-soaked shirt I can tell he won't be for much longer. I can feel the hard material of his bullet proof vest against my palms as I try to get out of his grip. He needs medical attention immediately.

I notice another person with him, a man. Close to my age, tall and dark. Serious looking. He offers to help with me, but Howard declines.

My eyes frantically look around the ground for Aiden.

I can't find him.

But the blood.

It's everywhere.

Where we had danced, when everything was going to hell and I looked into his eyes and saw adoration is now soaked in a pool of blood and a few teeth, but no body.

In a gut-wrenching cry, "Where's his body!" I yell, making grabbing hands as we walk past the red soaked scene.

"He's gone, Ms. Emilia. His body was taken away before I took you out."

Howard brought a heavy blood-soaked hand to my mouth; I didn't realize I was screaming.

I peel myself from his grip, my eyes focusing solely on a small red box on the ground.

"Howard, stop." I beg, thrashing in his arms. He turns his head and nods. Refusing to set me down he kneels to the ground with a grunt. I retrieve the red box and hold it tight against my chest while we make our way to the stairs.

I examine the scarlet velvet fabric on the box. Upon further examination, I realize it's not a red box. It was once white, Aiden's blood had stained it. I sob against Howards chest.

"Shh, it's okay." He talks through wet coughs.

"Howard." I cry, "You're hurt. Put me down." I demand, in a low and tired voice.

He refuses, shaking his head. "You're broken Ms. Emilia, I can see it in your eyes."

I huff, "Well you're shot!"

He shakes his head, ignoring me. "Well, if you insist on me not walking hand me to him." I gesture to the unfamiliar man walking alongside us.

Howard declines, always loyal even to a fault. He carries me through the bullet riddled apartment as I hide my face in his chest, unable to look at the damage.

The other man opens the door for us. I slide in the backseat, only focusing on Howard because if I think about Aiden... I won't make it much longer. He lays his head down on my lap. The blood has soaked his shirt. I hold the open wounds with pressure to stop him from bleeding out but his warm skin is growing pale.