Fifty-Eight

Gypsy stared at Enzo, her heart beating wildly as he hurried up the stairs with Gianna in his arms. She didn't want to feel the way she was feeling in that moment.

She should be concerned about Gianna's health, not about the fact that for the past thirty minutes, Enzo had focused all his attention on Gianna.

As if Gypsy weren't even in the room.

Soft groans drew her attention to Luca who was still on the floor. His face was bruised and battered, blood pouring from his nose and his lips. But Gypsy didn't feel any pity for him.

Back at the hospital, she'd disliked him, but now she hated him. Whether or not Gianna had truly hurt Enzo, no woman deserves to be sold to a bastard like Falcon.

It's unforgivable.

Everything still felt like a dream, one Gypsy didn't know whether she wanted to wake up from.

But now she understood why the mention of Gianna always ruffled her up so much. Even when she thought Gianna was dead, she'd known that Gianna would be some kind of gloomy cloud over their m