88

Faust

I almost got killed. Again.

This time, however, it was different. The other attempts on my life were botched, easily avoided. Except for the car bomb, I saw them coming.

The shooter took me by surprise. I didn't expect a coordinated attack to facilitate Enzo's escape. I suppose I should have—he knew it was me or him, that one of us would end up dead—but I was shot in the street like an infantryman. In front of my wife.

What was I thinking?

I had been careless, which was unforgivable. She was carrying my son. Nothing mattered more than the two of them, along with Giulio. I should have stood my ground and made Francesca cancel the appointment. Instead, I let her manipulate me to get what she wanted.

I wouldn't make that mistake again.

Conscience once again tugged at me and forced me to wake up. My brain swam toward the sounds until my eyelids fluttered. I expected to see the beautiful face of my wife, who spent the night here with me, but Marco was there. It was the first time he