Alessia's POV
Alessia's world erupted in pain as the bullet tore through her side. The shock of it was paralyzing. She fell to her knees, clutching at the wound, her vision blurring. Through the haze, she saw Marco wrestle the gun from Tony and heard the deafening crack of a gunshot as Marco ended Tony's life.
In an instant, Marco was at her side, his face a mask of fear and determination. "Hold on," he said, his voice strained. She felt herself being lifted, cradled in his strong arms. As he carried her to the car, she tried to focus on his face, on the intensity in his eyes. But the pain was too much, and her consciousness began to slip away.
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The next thing she knew, she was waking up in a hospital bed, the sterile smell and beeping machines a stark contrast to the chaos of the warehouse. Her arm throbbed painfully, and as she tried to move, a sharp pain shot through her side.
Her parents were there, their faces etched with worry. Her mother clasped her hand tightly. "Thank God you're awake," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
Her father stood at the foot of the bed, his expression stern but relieved. "We were so worried, Alessia. How are you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a truck," she managed to joke, trying to lighten the mood. "What happened?"
"You were shot in the arm and side," her mother explained, her voice trembling. "The doctors had to operate to remove the bullet and repair the damage. You're lucky to be alive."
Memories of the warehouse came flooding back. The confrontation with Tony, the gunshot, and Marco's desperate drive to the hospital. She remembered his voice, urging her to stay awake, his arms holding her tightly. Despite everything, he had saved her life.
Just then, the door opened, and Marco walked in. He looked exhausted, but there was a palpable relief in his eyes when he saw her awake. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft.
"Better, thanks to you," she replied, offering a weak smile. "You saved my life, Marco."
He shook his head. "I just did what needed to be done. I'm glad you're okay."
Their parents exchanged glances, sensing the unspoken connection between them. Alessia's father cleared his throat. "Marco, we owe you a great debt. Thank you for saving our daughter."
"It was the least I could do," Marco replied, his gaze never leaving Alessia. "I just wish it hadn't come to this."
Alessia's mother stood up, her voice firm. "We should let Alessia rest. She's been through enough for one day." She turned to Marco. "Thank you again, Marco. We'll never forget this."
As her parents left the room, Marco lingered, looking at Alessia with a mixture of concern and something else she couldn't quite place. "You were very brave back there," he said quietly. "I'm sorry you got hurt."
Alessia looked at him, taking in his handsome features and the genuine worry in his eyes. Despite their rocky start, there was something about him that drew her in. "I guess we both got more than we bargained for," she replied.
Marco nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Get some rest. I'll be here if you need anything."
As he left, Alessia closed her eyes, trying to process everything that had happened. The pain was still there, but so was the memory of Marco's touch, his strength, and his unwavering presence. She had no idea what the future held, but one thing was certain: her life had just gotten a lot more complicated.
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