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Your Life Comes Before Mine

Three years after the death of mafia leader Lucaro Ricci, his spirit remains tethered to his widow as a silent shadow. When she decides to marry Carlo Altieri, the son of Lucaro’s most hated rival, the entire city brands her a traitor. Even Lucaro’s ghost condemns her supposed infidelity. However, her actions hide a desperate pact. To grant Lucaro a miraculous second chance at life, she has vowed to sacrifice her own soul, proving that his life truly comes before hers.
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Chapter 7

I was too frantic to carefully consider Lucaro's words.

The word "assasination" cast a shadow over me, making me forget everything else in that moment.

I followed Enzo all the way to the spot where Carlo had fallen, where spent bullet casings and scattered droplets of blood were on the ground.

It all painfully reminded me of the scene from three years ago when Lucaro was assassinated.

Enzo stood there anxiously, making call after call.

Seeing that I wanted to go down, he quickly stopped me. "Ms. Santoro, I've already made the call. An ambulance and the Soldati are on their way. Don't be reckless."

Despite what he said, I shook off his hand and charged down. The slope was steep and slippery, and I fell several times before reaching Carlo.

He was riddled with bullets, his body mangled as he lay on the ground. He was barely alive.

This scene almost overlapped perfectly with the one from three years ago when I saw Lucaro.

Trembling, I grabbed Carlo's hand, calling out over and over, "Caro…"

I begged him softly not to leave me. I was afraid he'd fall asleep forever, just like Lucaro did.

I started shaking Carlo. During this, he regained consciousness.

He slowly opened his eyes and, upon seeing me in such a state of despair, couldn't help widening them in shock.

Suddenly, it started to rain. I quickly dragged Carlo up and began pulling him up the mountain.

Along the way, I kept stumbling and falling. Every time I fell, I used my own body to cushion him. As a result, stones scraped my hands and legs until they were bloody.

As I trudged on, I kept saying, "Caro, don't fall asleep. I'm saving you. I'm taking you home."

Carlo just stared at me with his mouth agape, unsure of what to say.

At the top of the slope, an ambulance was already waiting.

Mia Bianchi, the woman who had been in Carlo's passenger seat, had also been thrown from the car. She was being loaded onto the ambulance.

Just as Carlo was being loaded in, the medic saw my injuries and hesitated, saying, "The ambulance has limited space. We can only take two patients."

The medic looked at my wounds and said, "This young lady's injuries also need treatment."

As everyone hesitated, Carlo spoke from inside the vehicle. "She can wait. We'll go first."

Then, he said to me, "Wendy, your wounds don't look as severe as Mia's. Let Mia get treated first."

I said nothing. I merely stood by the roadside, watching the ambulance take Carlo and Mia away.

The onlookers gradually dispersed after that.

Enzo stayed by my side, glancing at my wounds several times. He didn't know what to say.

A cold wind blew, and I shivered. "Can you take me back first? In this state, I'd probably just get in the way at the hospital."

Enzo quickly nodded.

I stood and walked to the car. The woman reflected in the window was far from elegant—her clothes were torn, and her body was covered in blood.

Enzo found me a shawl. As he draped it over me, he said, "Ms. Santoro, don't worry. Don Altieri has been taken to the best hospital. He'll be fine."

I hummed in acknowledgment before getting into the car.

On the way home, Enzo tried to make conversation. "Ms. Santoro, you're truly amazing. You risked your life to save Don Altieri. He'll be very touched and will definitely treat you even better in the future."

I only smiled when I heard this. It was useless, for the one who was truly "Caro" to me died long ago.

My eyes stung, and a tear slid from the corner of my eye.

Enzo dropped me off at the manor and went to the hospital to see Carlo.

Just as I entered the living room, a maid informed me, "Ms. Santoro, Madre Altieri is here."

Carlo's parents were here?

In the three years I'd been with Carlo, his parents had never accepted me as his girlfriend. In fact, they often criticized me.

But now, seeing me, Marta Basile quickly stood and pulled me to sit beside her. She gently asked, "How could Carlo let you come back in such a wounded state?"

She turned to a maid and instructed, "Quick, call the family doctor to dress Wen's wounds."

Marta turned back to me and patted my hand, saying solemnly, "Wen, don't worry. I've heard about what happened today. You carried my son up the slope and ignored your own injuries.

"I admit that we were biased against you before. But you have my word—from now on, we will only recognize you as our daughter-in-law. Once Carlo is discharged, I'll have the wedding preparations started."

I didn't want to marry Carlo.

But when I looked up, I saw Lucaro's spirit standing by the window. It seemed noticeably fainter than before.

I recalled what Father Piero had told me.

"When Lucaro's spirit begins to fade, it means that he isn't far from ascending to heaven."

Was Lucaro finally about to go to heaven?

Thinking of this, I felt no joy at all—only a twisting pain in my chest.

I swallowed all my emotions and looked at Marta, nodding. "Okay."