Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 152

**You Were My Favorite Hurt, And My Hardest Goodbye by Ava Knight**
**Chapter 152**

“Status report,” Enzo commanded, his voice as unyielding as tempered steel.

Dom snapped to attention, his posture straightening with purpose. “The perimeter is secure. Guards have rotated through their posts. No one approaches within a block without our knowledge.”

Gino leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his tone low and serious. “The Russians are furious. Absolutely furious. They’ve been dragging people out of their safe houses all night, scattering them like roaches. Their fear is palpable. And when men are scared? They make mistakes. We need to finish this before they regain their confidence.”

Enzo’s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath the skin. Gino had kept the operation running smoothly—quiet, efficient, and precise. Just as it should be.

His gaze drifted back to Lola, who lay there with bruises mottling her pale skin, dark like ink stains on parchment. Bandages peeked out from beneath the sterile white hospital linens, a stark reminder of her fragility. She was still alive. Still here. His thumb brushed gently over her fingers, careful not to disturb her slumber.

“She can’t stay here,” he declared, his voice firm, the command leaving no room for argument. “It’s too exposed. We’re moving her to the house. She’ll receive private care there, locked down tighter than this place could ever manage.”

No one dared to protest. Not Gino, nor Dom, not even Nico.

With determination, Enzo pushed himself to his feet, muscles protesting the movement but his resolve unyielding. His body ached, yet he felt the iron spine of his will return, reclaiming the strength he thought had slipped away.

“Get it ready,” he instructed, his voice low and final. “We’re done bleeding time.”

His hand lingered on Lola’s, his thumb brushing across her bruises one last time before he steeled himself, the familiar hardness returning to his demeanor.

“Get the doctor,” he ordered Dom. “Nico and I are finished here.”

Nico grimaced as he swung his legs off the bed, the tension in his jaw evident but he remained silent. Despite the bruises that marred his body, he felt surprisingly steady—fatigue had knocked them both down, but it was exhaustion, not injury, that had taken its toll.

The doctor entered moments later, bleary-eyed and bristling with indignation. “They’re not fit for discharge—”

Enzo’s glare sliced through the air, sharp enough to cut. “We’re not asking for your permission. You will sign whatever you need to, and you will inform me of what it takes to move her.”

The doctor hesitated, glancing nervously at Lola’s monitors. Finally, he exhaled, the sound heavy with resignation. “She’s stable. A transfer is possible, but it’s risky if we rush it.”

“It won’t be rushed,” Enzo replied, his voice steady and commanding. “It will be guarded, sealed, and controlled. You’ll prepare her for relocation when I call. Until then, she remains in this bed.”

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