The black SUV came to a screeching stop outside the emergency entrance.

Enzo jumped out before it even finished rolling to a stop.

Isabella was right behind him.

The driver called after them, but they were already sprinting through the automatic doors and into the bright, buzzing lobby.

The strong smell of antiseptic hit them like a wall, sterile and overpowering.

Enzo headed straight for the reception desk, where a young woman was busy typing away.

His voice came out rough and demanding. "Zayden Virelli. Where is he?"

The receptionist looked up, startled by how harsh he sounded. But when she saw the fear and urgency in his face, her expression softened. "Are you family?"

"I’m his dad," Enzo replied quickly.

She typed fast and checked her screen. "Mr. Virelli just got out of surgery twenty minutes ago. He’s been moved to the VIP wing on the fifth floor, Room 502."

Enzo was already on the move before she finished.

Isabella caught up with him and grabbed his hand. "Thanks," she called back to the receptionist.

They found the elevators, and Enzo hit the button over and over.

"It’s coming," Isabella said gently.

"Not fast enough," Enzo shot back, frustration creeping into his voice.

The doors finally opened, and they stepped inside.

Enzo pressed the button for the fifth floor, and the elevator started climbing, slowly and painfully.

Every second felt like forever.

Isabella squeezed Enzo’s hand. "He’s alive. The surgery went well. That’s good news."

Enzo nodded but stayed tense, his eyes glued to the floor numbers.

3... 4... 5.

Ding.

The doors opened to a quiet hallway with cream-colored walls, soft lighting, and carpet that felt plush underfoot, in the VIP wing.

A sign on the wall pointed left: Rooms 500-510.

They hurried down the hall—Room 500, then 501—until they spotted her.

Azalea was standing outside Room 502, chatting with a nurse.

Her left shoulder was wrapped up, visible through the tear in her shirt.

Some blood had leaked a little, but she was standing, moving, and still alive.

The nurse handed her a prescription. "Change the bandage twice a day. Take the antibiotics as told. And no heavy lifting for at least two weeks."

Azalea nodded. "Got it. Thanks."

The nurse walked off.

Azalea turned and stopped in her tracks.

Her parents were ten feet away, staring at her.

Isabella was the first to move, rushing over and giving her daughter a gentle hug, being careful of the hurt shoulder.

"You’re here," Isabella said, relieved. "You’re hurt. Why didn’t you call us?"

Azalea’s voice was barely above a whisper. "I was with him. With Zayden. I couldn’t leave. I just couldn’t—"

She looked down.

Isabella pulled back and held her daughter’s face in her hands.

"You got shot."

"Just on the shoulder. It’s fine."

"It’s not fine. You were shot, Azalea. You could have died."

Azalea met her mom’s eyes. "So could Zayden."

The silence stretched.

Isabella’s face changed from worry to something firmer.

"We’ll talk about this later," she said strongly. "About what you and your brother were doing. About why you were both in danger. About why you didn’t tell us."

Azalea nodded, bracing herself for the talk.

Enzo stepped forward. His voice was quieter than Isabella’s, but just as serious.

"How is he?"

Azalea turned to her dad. "Surgery went well. No major damage. The bullet missed his heart by a couple of inches. He lost a lot of blood, but they got him stable. He’s doing okay now."

Enzo sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit.

"Can we go see him?"

Azalea hesitated. "He’s still out cold. The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet. The doctors said it could take another hour or two."

Isabella asked, "Is he by himself?"

"No," Azalea said with a little smile. "Aylin’s with him."

Enzo frowned. "Who’s Aylin?"

Isabella’s smile got bigger, clearly knowing more. "Our future daughter-in-law."

Enzo quickly turned towards his wife. "What? Is that for real?"

Isabella chuckled softly. "I’ve got my hunches. Azalea?"

Azalea nodded. "They’re a thing now. He loves her. She loves him. It’s serious."

A real smile finally broke through on Enzo’s face, the first one since Ryan called.

"My son has a girlfriend, and I’m just finding out now?"

Azalea shrugged. "He wanted to let you know himself, in a proper way. But then—" She waved her hand vaguely. "Everything happened."

Isabella looked at the door to room 502. "Can we at least peek in? Even if he’s asleep?"

Azalea thought for a moment. "The doctors said only immediate family can go in, plus Aylin, since she came with him in the ambulance."

"But we’re immediate family," Enzo said firmly.

"I know. But Aylin’s in there. She hasn’t left his side since we brought him in. She’s—" Azalea paused to choose her words carefully. "She’s really fragile right now and blaming herself. If you go in, just be gentle with her."

Isabella nodded. "Of course."

Azalea quietly opened the door and waved for her parents to come in. They stepped into the room.

*****

The room was spacious, private, and luxurious.

In the middle, there was a hospital bed surrounded by beeping monitors, an IV drip, and an oxygen tube.

And there was Zayden.

He lay still, eyes closed, and his face looked pale. But he was breathing.

Enzo felt a lump in his throat.

His lion... was alive.

Sitting next to the bed was a young woman in her twenties. She had long hair pulled back and was wearing jeans along with a shirt covered in blood.

She held Zayden’s hand, her head resting against the bed.

When she looked up as they walked in, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and she looked totally exhausted.

She straightened up right away and stood up.

Turning to Azalea, she seemed confused and uncertain.

Azalea smiled gently. "Aylin, these are my parents, Enzo and Isabella Virelli."

There was a slight pause.

"Your future in-laws," Azalea added.

Aylin’s cheeks turned bright red in an instant. She looked down, suddenly feeling shy.

"I...um...nice to meet you," she said.

Isabella stepped forward with a warm smile.

"You’re the one who saved my son," she replied.

Aylin shook her head quickly. "No, I didn’t. He saved me. He pushed me out of the way. He took the bullet meant for me. I didn’t save him. I got him shot."

Her voice cracked on the last part.

Isabella reached out and took Aylin’s hands.

"My son made a choice. He decided to protect someone he loves. That’s not on you; it’s just who he is."

Aylin felt tears welling up in her eyes. "But if I had been quicker, if I had noticed sooner, if I hadn’t gone outside—"

"Then you wouldn’t be here," Isabella gently cut in. "And my son wouldn’t have you in his life. That would be a much bigger tragedy."

Aylin looked at her, surprised.

Isabella smiled warmly. "You’re strong... and beautiful. I can see why he fell for you."

Aylin’s face turned even redder.

Enzo stepped closer and took a good look at Aylin, sizing her up.

Then he smiled. "So... you’re the one my son’s been hiding."

Aylin nodded, her voice a quiet whisper. "Um, yeah, sir."

"Oh come on, don’t call me ’sir,’" Enzo replied, glancing at Zayden before turning back to Aylin. "He has great taste."

Aylin managed a small smile back.

Enzo moved to the bedside, looking down at his son. He reached out and touched Zayden’s hand; it was warm, alive.

Enzo closed his eyes. "My lion."

Isabella came to stand beside him, putting her hand on Enzo’s shoulder. They stood together, watching their son breathe, grateful that he was still with them.

Azalea cleared her throat softly. "I should let you have some time alone with him. I’ll be outside if you need anything."

She slipped out quietly.

Aylin hesitated. "I can leave too, so you can have privacy—"

"No," Isabella said firmly. "You stay. You belong here."

Aylin’s eyes watered again. "Thank you."

She sat back down and took Zayden’s hand again, holding it like a lifeline.

Isabella watched her, seeing the love and care in Aylin’s eyes. And she knew: this was the one.

The woman her son would marry.

The one who would stand by him, fight for him, and love him no matter what.

Isabella smiled and quietly welcomed her to the family.