Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1)

by Veronica Lancet

  Marcel flushes, his entire countenance screaming his shame.

  Adrian gives Marcel one last look that conveys the disappointment he feels at the betrayal, before turning to his bother.

  "Why? Why was Jimenez so important to you?" Adrian addresses Valentino. "Why kill him?" He shakes his head. "You don't know what you've done..."

  Valentino scoffs. "Done? I got rid of a plague that roamed this earth. Please... as if everyone isn't better off without him. As to why? It's quite simple. He killed my wife. And do you know why he did it?" Valentino's eyes bulge in his head, his expression almost maniacal. "To blame me for her death, so that Rocco could turn against me for killing his daughter."

  "And now you've condemned my wife to the exact same fate." Adrian's voice is full of bitterness.

  Valentino frowns.

  "Jimenez poisoned her, and he was the only one with the antidote." It's Vlad who interjects, his voice steady and devoid of any emotion.

  Valentino's face falls for a second, but he quickly recovers. In a split of a second, I find myself on my back, with Adrian charging towards him.

  He tackles him to the ground, his fists going straight to his face. My eyes widen, and I signal for Vlad to help me get him off.

  We must have been too slow because the sound of a gun discharging permeates the air.

  We both stop in our track, and we watch in horror as Valentino pushes Adrian off him, breathing heavily. On his back, Adrian groans in pain, but I only see the spot of red forming at his temple.

  "No!" I yell and fling myself towards him. "No... this can't be happening...." My hands go to his wound.

  A head wound... I'm frantic in my movements, not knowing what to do. I bring my hands to my shirt and rip a significant portion of it, using it to stop the blood and wrap it around his head.

  "911... call 911." I don't recognize my voice as I look at his shallow breaths.

  Please, Adrian, please! Stay with me!

  Valentino drags himself to his feet, a horrified look on his face.

  "I didn't mean... It went off..." He keeps on shaking his head in shock.

  Then, with a last glance at Marcel, he grips the gun tightly and places it under his chin.

  There's only Marcel's voice as he runs towards him before Valentino pulls the trigger, blowing up his brains in front of all of us.

  His body falls to the ground, and we are all stupefied at the turn of events.

  A pained wail comes from Marcel as he hurries to his brother's side. His face is unrecognizable now, a big exit hole marring his forehead, his brains leaking out.

  Vlad's been the only one relatively calm throughout all of this, but even he averts his eyes when he sees the amount of blood flooding the room.

  With measured strides, he puts a hand on Marcel's shoulder. Marcel flinches slightly, but he's too busy mourning his brother.

  "He was dying anyway." Vlad comments. "He had Multiple Sclerosis."

  "You knew?" Marcel's appalled look doesn't intimidate Vlad as he continues.

  "Valentino knew he was going to die all along. But he wanted to avenge Romina first, and clear his name."

  Adrian gasps for air, struggling to keep his eyes open.

  "Shh... it's ok." I try to tell him, focusing my strength on his bleeding wound.

  "Hang on, please," I plead again, and Vlad gives me a tight nod of assurance.

  "The ambulance should be here soon." He says and then leaves the room.

  I'm cradling Adrian's head to my chest, while Marcel is grieving for his already departed brother.

  After the paramedics arrive, I don't exactly know what happens. They are trying to separate me from Adrian, and I just can’t let go.

  "Miss, please let us do our job." Someone says to me, but I just shake my head. "No..."

  "Miss." They repeat and wrench me from Adrian's side. His eyes are closed, and I don't see any sign of life on his face. My breathing grows laborious.

  "Please, help my husband," I say in between pants, and one of the paramedics takes me aside while they load Adrian on a stretcher.

  "Miss, look at me." My eyes are unfocused, and my chest feels constricted. There is a faint noise in my head, and everything is distorted.

  "Miss, please breathe. You're having a panic attack." I can't focus on what he's saying. I can't concentrate on anything but the thought of Adrian dying. The idea of a world without him. My breaths become even sparser, and one hand is clutching at my chest while the other is digging into the paramedic's arm.

  "Miss, stop, or I'll have to sedate you." I don't know what's happening, but I can't stop. The only time I catch my breath is to yell Adrian's name. I'm so focused on getting to him, making sure he will be alright, that I don't realize when they inject me with something. Suddenly, my lids feel heavy, and I go under.

  My eyes flutter open. I am disoriented for a few seconds before everything comes back to me. Adrian!

  "Where is my husband?" I jump up from the bed I'm lying in and start yelling. I take in my surroundings and see I'm in a hospital. There are a few rows of beds around, all of them filled with patients. I look at my arm and notice an IV drip, probably with fluids. I wrench the needle from my skin and go towards one of the nurses at the end of the station.

  "I'm looking for my husband," I tell her. She looks me over in a bored fashion and just says. "Don't know." then turns around, leaving me there.

  I yank her arm with all my strength and back her into a wall.

  "Where is my husband?" I yell at her, and she retaliates by calling security. They start tugging on my arm to release her, but I keep on crying out. "Where is my husband?"

  Finally, after one security guard restrains me, a doctor comes by.

  "Your husband is Theodore Hastings?" The man asks, and I give a swift nod.

  "He's still in surgery. Here, let me." The doctor gives the guard an ok look and takes me back to my bed.

  "Tell me," I beg him, and he sighs.

  "Your husband suffered a gunshot wound to the head. Luckily, the bullet only grazed his temporal bone, and didn't lodge itself inside."

  "That's good, isn't it? “I quickly ask, hopeful at the diagnosis.

  "We don't know yet. The bullet did do damage in its trajectory. We can't yet gauge how the injury affected the patient, or if he will wake up."

  "What... do you mean if he will wake up?"

  "The brain is a sensitive organ. It really depends from case to case how the patient will recover. We are doing everything we can to ensure the best care for your husband. But you should, in any eventuality, prepare for the worst."

  "Worst...?" I trail off.

  "He may become brain dead...at any moment." The doctor professionally tells me.

  The blow is, nonetheless, lethal. I stumble back onto the bed, my hand going to my heart immediately. I'm trying to regulate my breathing when the doctor continues.

  "We've seen his file, and he is an organ donor. I wanted to let you know that..." He starts, but I tune him out. Organ donor? Yeah, that sounds like my husband.

  But that means... I can't deal with this.

  No...

  My hand shoots out and wraps itself around the doctor's throat.

  "You will make sure he lives. If not, I will hunt down everyone you care about, and I will put a bullet through their skulls. Are we clear?" I threaten in a steely voice. The doctor pales at my words and just nods numbly. I release him, and he scurries away.

  Oh, Adrian...

  I don't know how I make it to the waiting room on my shaky legs, but once I do, I am greeted by the sight of Marcel, slumped against a wall.

  "You!" I spit out the words and watch as Marcel's head shoots up, his eyes widening at my presence.

  "It's all your fault." I accuse him, launching myself at him. I don't even get to touch him as Marcel pales and flinches away, effectively avoiding my fist.

  "Fuck you!" I throw myself against him again, but this time I'm stopped by a firm grip holding me from behind.r />
  "Enough, B." Vlad whispers in my hair.

  "You knew... you knew everything." I cry out at him and start throwing haphazard punches. Vlad takes it for a minute before restraining me.

  "Stop." And I do... not because I want to, but because my body can't withstand the effort anymore. I sink into him and let my tears flow freely.

  "How could you?" I keep on repeating. Vlad continues to stroke my hair, letting me purge my feelings through my tears.

  A while later and after I've calmed down, the surgeon in charge of Adrian's case comes out to tell us the surgery's been a success.

  "We still need to wait until wakes up to see if there have been any side effects from the bullet, or the surgery." He then tells us that Adrian will be moved to a private salon.

  After they bring him to the salon, I tell the doctor that no one else is allowed to visit him but me.

  Marcel looks at me remorsefully, but I know Adrian wouldn't want to see him either. I could see it in his eyes when he'd learned that his trusted friend had been using him this whole time that something inside of him had died. I'm not about to put more stress on him when he needs to recover from such a severe injury. I also let Vlad know that I don't think it would be optimal for him to visit.

  I can't say that I know precisely what Vlad's angle had been in all of this. But he hadn't seemed surprised at any of the revelations. I'm not sure I can trust him right now.

  I make my own space inside the salon to watch over Adrian, and only leave him for a little while when it's apparent that I'm missing many necessities.

  I make a quick trip home and pack enough clothes and toiletries for a week and some weapons just in case anyone tries something. At this point, better be prepared.

  The first day in the hospital passes without any change. The doctor informs me that some people take a little longer to wake up.

  And so one day turns into two, and two turns into three, and still nothing.

  I'm almost out of my mind worrying about Adrian that I haven't even had time to think about my own predicament.

  It's only on the third day that Vlad gives me a call and urges me to get my bloodwork done to check for the poison. I reluctantly agree and go through the process, but only because I'm still holding out hope that Adrian will wake up.

  If he doesn't... then what's the point of me living still?

  At the end of the week, my blood work comes back clean—no substances found in my system, no drugs or poison. Jimenez had been bluffing.

  I almost laugh at the results.

  Of course he had been bluffing.

  I don't even get to enjoy the good news because Adrian has still not woken up.

  Every day I sit by his side. Sometimes I read to him, sometimes I tell him stories of our life together. Sometimes I just beg him to come back to me.

  It's all in vain.

  And I can’t help but feel that it’s all my fault.

  Two weeks go by like this. Neither Marcel nor Vlad have tried to come to the hospital again, even though I've been staying connected with Vlad, and he's been updating me about everything that's been happening.

  The cops had taken over Jimenez's compound and had confiscated the illegal weapons. Adrian’s been hailed a hero for his capture of Jimenez, even though he'd been killed by Valentino. The entire episode had been covered up to look like a mob squabble between the Lastra family and Jimenez, and no one else had been mentioned in the official report.

  On the other hand, the Gallaghers had placed a bid for power for the remnants of Jimenez's empire, with Ortega and some other smaller cartels trying to assert their own independence. The entire situation was messy, in Vlad's words. It didn't help that the Marchesi had made camp in New York as well, trying to build up their power as part of one of the five families again.

  Enzo had eventually made it out alive and was released from the ICU. With his health still precarious, he hadn't yet involved himself in the political games afoot.

  I was lost in my thoughts when the monitor starts beeping suddenly. I jerk my head towards Adrian, panicking at the idea that this might be the end. After so many days with no response, the doctors had told me that the chances of him ever waking up are dwindling.

  "Doctor?" I yell, opening the door to the salon. I see some nurses hurrying towards me, followed by a doctor. They all push me in the back, telling me to give them space to work on the patient.

  Adrian... My lower lip is trembling, my eyes misted. Is this the end?

  I can't even see what they are doing, as they are all surrounding his bed.

  "Hi, I'm Dr. Evans, your attending physician. Can you tell me your name?" The doctor is asking a question.

  "I... Theodore... Hastings." I hear Adrian's voice answering. He's... awake? I can't even control myself as I step towards him.

  "Do you remember what happened?" The doctor asks

  "No."

  "You were shot in the head. You've been in a coma for the last two weeks. What's the last thing you remember?"

  Even though the doctor and the nurses are still around him, I manage to find the right angle to see his face.

  "I was at a meeting with the mayor... we were discussing..." He stops and frowns. "I don't remember."

  "That's perfectly normal. Don't worry. You've suffered major trauma to your brain. It's completely normal to feel confused and for some memories to feel fuzzy." The doctor assures Adrian, before finally spotting me.

  "Mrs. Hastings. As you can see, he's still confused. But him waking up is good news. Far better than we would have expected. We will continue to run some tests to make sure everything is in order." The doctor explains to me, and I see Adrian look even more confused at the mention of my name.

  "Theo." I take a step towards him and say, using his official name since there are still people around.

  He regards me for a second, tilting his head to the side.

  "Who are you?" He finally asks. My eyes widen at his question.

  "Doctor?" I ask, panicked. He doesn't remember me?

  Dr. Evans was about to leave the room when he hears the exchange. He comes back to Adrian's side and asks him again.

  "Mr. Hastings, what's today's date?"

  "You said I was in a coma for two weeks? Then it should be... September 20th?" He looks hopeful.

  "And the year?"

  "2010."

  "Mr. Hastings, I need you to be calm. It's 2020. It seems that you don't remember the past ten years."

  The doctor looks at me and shakes his head, motioning me to step outside.

  "You said he was only confused," I say when we are outside the salon.

  "Memory loss can happen. His injury was to his temporal lobe, and as such, amnesia is not uncommon."

  "When will he remember?"

  "I couldn't say. It could be tomorrow, in two months or..."

  "Never." I finish his sentence. He grimaces at me but nods.

  "I'm sorry." He says before leaving me.

  I slump against the wall, all my fears materializing. He's alive... and yet he doesn't know me. Seven years of memories made together... just gone.

  What if he never remembers me?

  What if...

  But wouldn’t that be better for him? Not remembering? He wouldn’t know of his friend’s betrayal… he wouldn’t know his real parentage… and he wouldn’t know me.

  But what good had it done to him, knowing me? All I’ve done was lie to him and hurt him, all in the name of my selfish obsession.

  Wouldn’t he be better without all of this?

  There’s also the matter of my own father, not that I’d like to claim him as such, killing his parents. Would he even be able to look at me without remembering that glaring detail?

  I admit I'd been contemplating this since I'd first seen him lying helpless in his hospital bed.

  I'd had two long weeks to think about our life together. Fourteen days in which I realized just how much I'd depended on Adrian for my happiness.

 
He'd been mine, and so that made me happy.

  But being mine came with repercussions... countless dangers.

  One decision and I can give him a brand-new life. A life where he doesn't live for revenge. A life he can enjoy.

  Without me.

  Maybe this is a sign. A sign that I should finally let go.

  My feet slide to the floor as a hand goes over my mouth to cover my sobs.

  A lifetime without my Adrian. Can I do it? Probably not, but for him, I will try.

  He deserves to be happy.

  I have seven years’ worth of memories to last me a lifetime.

  And he has a clean slate.

  Once my mind was made up, I knew what I had to do. And I had to do it fast before I lost my resolve.

  After all the nurses leave, I head inside, putting on my best smile.

  "Who are you?" He asks again when he sees me. I expected it, but I still freeze when I see the suspicion in his eyes.

  "A friend." I lie. Here it goes, the beginning of everything.

  "A friend?" He repeats, studying me closely.

  "A friend from work." I amend.

  "Then... do you know what happened to me?"

  "You were caught in the crossfire with a dangerous cartel. But the good news is that you're a hero now. Jimenez is dead because of you and the FBI's managed to confiscate millions worth of illegal weapons."

  "Jimenez?" I can see his mind working. Assuming he remembers everything from before 2010, then he still remembers his crusade against Jimenez.

  "Yes, he was the leader of the cartel," I add.

  "And I caught him?"

  "Yes." I don't give him more details. He doesn't need to know.

  This is a good thing. He won't only stop his quest for revenge now, but he will also not remember Marcel's betrayal or the fact that Jimenez is his biological father. He won't have to experience that heartbreak again.

  We talk a little more, and I give him vague information, enough to help him build a narrative. As our time is drawing to a close, I raise from my chair and tell him goodbye.

  "Will you come again?" He asks as I'm about to leave.

  "Probably not." I give him a rueful smile, and he seems disappointed.

  On the spur of the moment, I drop my head and give him a kiss on the forehead.