The Mafia Lord's Redemption

“Kyle,” Amanda's voice came out as a whisper as she saw her husband slumped against the leather sofa in the sitting room, with one hand pressed to his abdomen as dark liquid seeped between his fingers staining the crisp white shirt crimson. Kyle's head snapped up, “I told you to stay upstairs,” he growled, his eyes narrowing in anger, but the usual force behind his commanding voice was reduced by the pain he felt. A gasp escaped from Amanda's lips as she quickly descended down the stairs, “you're bleeding,” she stated, moving closer to him. “Go back upstairs,” Kyle commanded, wincing at the fresh pain that shot up his body as he raised his voice. “Let me see,” Amanda replied instead as she knelt beside him. “I don't need your help,” Kyle retorted while trying to push her away with his free hand, but his attempt resulted in a sharp intake of breath. “I can clearly see that,” she replied dryly, “is that a gunshot wound?” she asked as she looked closely. Kyle's silence was enough to confirm her suspicion. but she gently reached for his hand and moved it away from the wound. “We have to take you to the hospital,” Amanda exclaimed as she saw fresh blood gush out from him. His face was pale with pain with beads of sweat forming rapidly. “I have to call the ambulance,” she said again as she reached for his phone. “No!” Kyle’s hand shot out with surprising strength, gripping her wrist, “No hospitals, no police either.” Amanda met his gaze briefly, though the pain was obvious in his eyes, she could see the clear warning. Whatever her husband, Kyle Bardolf, was involved in, it was something that couldn't involve the police. “Fine. Then I need the first aid kit,” she finally said. “I said go back upstairs,” Kyle said, his voice sounding weaker as the seconds passed by. “Except you want to bleed to death, where is the first aid kit?” Amanda asked firmly. Though her face looked disinterested, a slight pain shot through her heart that this man she'd been married to would choose death over her help. “Under the kitchen sink to your right,” he managed. Amanda dashed in the direction of the kitchen where she found a professional medical kit, she returned and found Kyle almost out of breath. She had been in the forbidden library which had become her sanctuary over the past six months of her marriage to Kyle, it was the only place in his massive mansion where she felt any semblance of peace. Heavy rain beat against the tall windows outside with thunder rumbling in the distance. She had just turned to page sixty-five of the first edition of Harry Potter when she heard a loud crash from downstairs, followed by a series of muttered curses which made her freeze as she knew her husband wasn't home. Though Kyle had forbidden her from coming downstairs, another loud thud followed by what sounded like glass shattering made her drop her book and move towards the staircase. The trail of blood from the front door across the marble floor to where Kyle now lay made her all the more curious as to what Kyle really did for work. Amanda was sure that business tycoons who imported cars and furnitures didn't come home with gunshot wounds and a blood trail. “I need to cut open your shirt,” she said as she brought out a pair of scissors from the kit. She carefully cut away his blood-soaked shirt revealing an ugly wound just below his ribcage. “Who did this to you?” Amanda asked as she dabbed at the blood. “That's none of your business,” Kyle replied through gritted teeth making Amanda to look him straight in the eyes. He saw a flash of pain pass across her eyes at his reply and for the first time he felt bad. “Fine, it was one of my men,” he muttered, “Clearly, loyalty can be bought at a price.” “I'm sorry about that,” she said softly making him look at her. Amanda carefully examined the wound, “the bullet is still in there,” she said. “I know it is,” “I need to get the bullet out before I stitch you up,” she said again, making Kyle's eyes widen. “You know how to remove a bullet?” he asked in astonishment. “My father was a soldier, remember?” Amanda asked as a bitter smile crossed her face. “He taught me basic field medicine when I was fourteen, I never thought I would use it on bandaging the wound. “Thank you,” Kyle said, the words sounded foreign on his lips. The usual hardness in his expression softened perhaps by gratitude and tiredness. Kyle attempted to stand and immediately winced at the pain that shot up his body. “Let me help you,” Amanda offered as she moved to his side, allowing him to place his heavy arm across her shoulders. Though his weight was significant, she managed to help him as they slowly made their way up the staircase. When they got to his room, Amanda carefully helped Kyle on to the bed, careful enough not to disturb his wound or bandages. “Stay,” Kyle said, as soon as she turned to leave. For a moment longer, she paused as her eyes widened in shock. In all the months of her staying in this house, this was the first time she was inside his room. “Please, stay,” he repeated again. The look Kyle had in his eyes was one Amanda had never seen before. As Amanda sat beside him, she asked “Why did you marry me?” The question had burned inside all these months. “You could have married anyone, why me?” “Because from the moment I set my eyes on you in that bar, I knew you were different,” Kyle whispered while his thumb traced slow circles on the inside of her wrist. “I knew I needed to possess that difference.” “Kyle, I am not a property to be owned,” she said in a firm voice. “I've noticed,” he said as a genuine smile–one without the usual mocking edge–crossed his face. Something shifted between them as their eyes locked, six months of Amanda resenting him seemed to disappear, replaced by a new awareness. “After all I've done to you, I didn't deserve your help tonight,” Kyle said as his hand moved to her cheek, his touch surprisingly soft and tender. Ordinarily, Amanda should have pulled away, but something in his gaze and the way he said those words made her keep still. “I believe people can change,” she whispered softly. “I don't know if I can,” Kyle admitted, his fingers tangled in her hair, drawing her closer until their foreheads touched, “but tonight, you make me want to try.” When their lips touched, it was nothing like Amanda had imagined. The kiss wasn't forcefull or dominating, instead, it was more than anything she'd ever imagined. Amanda found herself responding with equal fervor. As Kyle led her down beside him, the wall between them crumbled, giving Amanda the hope that perhaps Kyle loved her just as much as she loved him.