Chapter Thirteen - Don't Go

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*LEILA*

I still couldn't believe what happened. I hadn't been at the Gonzalez's for two weeks and I had already put them in danger. If I wasn't there, Demetrio Gonzalez would have not been shot.

Valeria and Dalilah stood beside Demetrio's bed as he assured them that he was fine.

The doctor came fifteen minutes after I had called him yesterday while Valeria took care of his wound at the time.

Luckily for Demetrio, the bullet didn't go deep.

I awkwardly stood in the corner of the room, looking at Demetrio like a lost soul. I deeply felt responsible for what happened and I wanted more than anything to go back in time and go somewhere else.

Valeria didn't tell me anything regarding what happened, but I am sure she was going to after she made sure Demetrio was okay.

Dalilah didn't pay attention to me and only paid attention to her brother, which was a relief.

Lorenzo on the other hand, stayed at the warehouse, working his butt off to find Giovanni and his men. He called every hour to know about Demetrio's condition, to make sure he was okay.

When Valeria and Dalilah left the room to rest a little, I was left alone with Demetrio who finally looked at me.

I was so nervous because I didn't know what to do, but I certainly knew what to say.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I walked slowly towards the bed.

"I am good, you?" he asked, looking down at my belly.

"We're good." I smiled. "I am so sorry," I added.

"For what?"

"You know for what..."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was. He could've killed you," I tried to reason.

"But he didn't."

"Still, I'm sorry," I said, looking shamefully down at the floor.

I felt terrible, extremely terrible. All I could think about was what would have happened to Valeria and Lorenzo if he died.

I was selfish.

"It's fine, Leila. Don't worry about it."

I didn't say anything because I knew arguing with him was useless.

"I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you loved that man," he spoke up.

"He was different," I replied, trying somehow to defend myself.

"He was just in disguise."

"Yes," I replied.

"How did it happen?" he asked.

"Did what happen?" I asked.

"His cruelty."

I took a deep breath and started, "It was a year after being married. He came home one day and was yelling with one of his men. What I understood from that conversation was that you beat him into a deal that he wanted to make with investors of some sorts after the Martinez mafia retired. When he saw that you got stronger and became the strongest in Europe, he couldn't take it and lash at me."

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