The Night Bleeds
The room was too quiet.
Only the faint hum of the city below and Alessandro's uneven breathing filled the space.
Isabella tightened the makeshift bandage around his arm, her fingers stained with his blood. The sight alone should have terrified her.
But it didn't.
Not anymore.
"Stay still," she whispered, her voice steadier than she felt.
Alessandro leaned back against the glass, his jaw clenched, eyes half-lidded—but still sharp. Always sharp.
Watching her.
Measuring her.
"You don't sound scared," he murmured.
Isabella paused for a second, then met his gaze.
"I am," she admitted softly. "But that won't help you."
For a brief moment… something shifted in his expression.
Respect.
Then it was gone, buried beneath the cold, dangerous man he always was.
Minutes passed.
The bleeding slowed.
But not enough.
Isabella frowned, her mind racing.
"This isn't good…" she muttered. "The bullet might still be inside."
Alessandro let out a low chuckle—dry, dangerous.
"Then take it out."
Her head snapped up. "Are you serious?"
His gaze locked onto hers, unflinching.
"I don't repeat myself."
Her pulse spiked.
"I'm not a doctor, Alessandro!"
"And I don't trust doctors," he shot back instantly. "So it's you."
The weight of his words settled heavily in the air.
It wasn't a request.
It was a command.
Isabella swallowed hard.
Then slowly… she nodded.
"Fine," she said. "But you don't get to complain."
A faint smirk touched his lips despite the pain.
"Do your worst."
She moved quickly.
A bottle of whiskey—grabbed.
A clean cloth—torn.
Her hands shook slightly, but she forced them to steady.
"Drink," she ordered, pushing the bottle toward him.
He raised a brow.
"Giving me orders now?"
"If you want to pass out from pain, be my guest."
A pause.
Then—
He took the bottle.
The moment stretched.
Heavy.
Electric.
Dangerous.
Isabella took a breath.
"This is going to hurt."
Alessandro's eyes darkened.
"Good."
She pressed the cloth against the wound, then—
He didn't make a sound.
Not when her fingers worked into the wound.
Not when the pain should have broken him.
Only the tightening of his grip on the glass behind him betrayed anything at all.
Isabella's heart pounded wildly.
"Almost… there…"
Her fingers brushed against something solid.
The bullet.
Relief flooded her.
"I've got it—"
She pulled it free.
Silence.
Then—
Blood.
More than before.
Her eyes widened.
"No, no—"
She pressed down hard, panic rising.
"Stay with me, Alessandro!"
His head tilted slightly, eyes dimming just a fraction.
For the first time…
He looked human.
Vulnerable.
Something inside her snapped.
"No," she whispered fiercely.
Not him.
Not now.
She worked faster, tighter, pressing harder, refusing to let the bleeding win.
"Don't you dare die on me," she said, her voice breaking.
"You don't get to say 'you're mine' and then leave."
For a second—
Nothing.
Then—
A weak, almost amused breath escaped him.
"Bossy…" he muttered.
Relief hit her so hard it almost made her collapse.
Slowly…
Carefully…
The bleeding stopped.
Isabella exhaled shakily, her body finally giving in to the tension as she sank beside him.
"You're impossible," she whispered.
Alessandro turned his head slightly, his gaze finding hers again.
Even now…
Even injured…
He looked at her like she was something he had already claimed.
Something he wasn't letting go of.
"You didn't run," he said quietly.
Isabella held his gaze.
"No."
A pause.
Then, softer—
"I chose to stay."
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes again.
Stronger this time.
Deeper.
"Then you're in this," he said.
"No turning back."
Outside, the city lights flickered like distant stars.
Inside—
A bond had been sealed.
Not by words.
But by blood.