Chapter Thirty-Three
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
LUCIANO
Viviana puts on a brave face, but I see the turmoil lingering just beneath the surface. I see the sadness behind every smile and the fear in her eyes every time a nurse knocks on the door. I see her, and it kills me.
She sits on an examination table, dressed in a paper-thin hospital gown because blood and urine soiled her clothing. Goosebumps cover her skinny arms, so I readjust the hospital blanket around her shoulders and pull her into my chest.
I want to drape myself over her body, hold her close enough that we’re no longer two separate beings, absorbing her into my bloodstream. It’s the only way I’ll ever sleep again. She was taken from me. She could have been killed, and I’ll never forgive myself.
“Try to smile when the nurse comes in again,” Viviana chides me, nuzzling her nose in the divot between my pectorals. “You’re scaring them.”
I grunt and kiss the top of her head. “They should be scared.”
She sighs. “I hope they’ll discharge me soon. I really feel fine.”
She has a broken wrist, the result of her own efforts to escape her bindings, a few bruises, and general dehydration. They wrapped her wrist in a cast and connected her to an IV drip with electrolytes. They also took a blood sample to check for traces of whatever drug Elenora shot into her system.
My hands clench into fists at the thought of her traitorous bitch of a sister. Every fiber in my body wants to tie her to a chair, cut her up, and release a pack of starved dogs into the room with her. Only Viviana’s good heart keeps me from making the call to end Elenora’s life.
Elenora doesn’t deserve her little sister’s mercy.
“Soon, cattivella,” I murmur, sliding my hands up and down her arms. I’m standing between her legs. “Then I’m not letting you leave my sight for the next month, at least.”
She snuggles deeper into my chest. “I’m okay with that.”
I believe her. She hadn’t even been angry when I told her that I bugged her phone while she slept the night of our wedding.
Thank fuck we did. It gave us access to her text messages and calls, which allowed me to hear Elenora’s phone call yesterday afternoon. I’d been shocked, almost as much as Viviana, to hear the ghost of her sister on the other end of the line.
Everything happened rather quickly after that.
Weeks ago during our visit to Chicago, Massimo disclosed his suspicion of Nathaniel. After I accused him of an affair with Elenora, Massimo informed me that Elenora had grown close to his half-brother during her visits to Chicago. He believed his brother was preparing to stage a coup, and he’d already sent his young son to Italy with family to protect him from Nathaniel’s plans.
Of course, neither of us could’ve anticipated Elenora’s role in the ordeal. And we certainly didn’t expect the pair to use Viviana to spark a war between our families.
But Nathaniel, the arrogant bastard, failed to imagine that Massimo had any inkling of his plans. His compound at his late mother’s home, although highly fortified, couldn’t withstand a barrage by Cosa Nostra and Outfit forces. We overpowered him quickly. My only regret is that Nathaniel died in the fighting. I’d hoped to take my time killing him.
“Knock, knock,” a soft voice calls from the doorway.
Viviana tenses against me, so I remain firmly in front of her as Dr. Hart steps into the room. She’s young for a doctor, but Massimo assured me that she’s the best in the business. Apparently, the pretty blonde has patched up the future Outfit leader on multiple occasions.
Dr. Hart offers us a kind smile, clearly unaffected by the permanent scowl twisting my features. “The rest of the test results have just come back. The drug used to subdue you seems to have a short half-life, and its numbers are declining rapidly.”
Viviana chews on her chapped bottom lip. “That’s good, right?”
“Very good,” Dr. Hart confirms, pumping hand-sanitizer onto her hands. “It’s almost completely out of your system.”
Thank God. A small fraction of the weight pressing on my chest lifts, allowing me to breathe easier. I shoot Dr. Hart a penetrating look. “You’ve checked everything else? She’s healthy?”
The blonde nods. “Yes, both Viviana and the baby are completely healthy. Though I’d recommend an appointment with your OBGYN when you get back to New York, just to check on the little bean.” She adds the last part with a small chuckle, her eyes warming as they flicker toward my wife’s belly.
I freeze.
Beside me, every muscle in Viviana’s body has stilled. “I’m sorry... The baby ?”
Dr. Hart’s brows pull together, then they shoot up into her hairline. “You didn’t know?”
“Are you saying Viviana is pregnant?” It’s more of a demand than a question, and I take a small step back to properly take in my wife’s small frame. She doesn’t look pregnant, but I suppose she wouldn’t yet.
My heart hammers in my chest, pushing a strange cocktail of excitement and apprehension into my bloodstream. I don’t entirely believe it.
“Her hCG levels certainly indicate it,” Dr. Hart muses, flipping through a few sheets of paper on her clipboard before finding what she’s looking for. She extends the clipboard toward us and points at a little graph at the bottom of the page. “I’d guess you’re about five or six weeks, starting from the date of your last cycle. But only an ultrasound will confirm the age.”
I don’t know what the hell I’m looking at, but I believe her. She has no reason to lie.
Viviana stares at the paper longer than me, her hazel eyes glossing with unshed tears, and her throat bobs. I can’t read her expression to know whether she’s happy or sad about this unexpected news.
“I’ll give you two a moment,” Dr. Hart comments with a grin, leaving us with the evidence on the clipboard. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad.”
Her words hit me like an earthquake, flipping my world on its axis. Dad.
“ Thank you,” I murmur, though my tongue feels clumsy and numb. I wait until the door shuts securely behind her before I place both hands on Viviana’s cheeks and gently tilt her head up to meet my gaze. “Viviana? Talk to me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”
My wife’s lip trembles, and she clutches the clipboard to her chest. “I’m pregnant. ”
“I know,” I chuckle, almost in disbelief.
We didn’t use protection that first night, but we’ve used condoms almost every night since then. Viviana said she believes in fate, but a part of me wonders if she truly considered the possibility becoming pregnancy when she refused to take the emergency pill all those weeks ago.
“How do you feel?”
A single tear slips from the corner of her eye and wets my finger, but a smile—more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen before—graces her lips. “Happy.”
“Me too,” I answer, and it’s the truth.
“Y’know…” She begins, and she sets the clipboard aside. “I lied to Elenora. When they were about to electrocute me—” My insides twist, and I hold my breath to keep from interrupting her. “I lied and said I was pregnant. Nathaniel still wanted to torture me, but Elenora… She helped me escape because of it.”
My chest physically hurts—like it’s being shredded to ribbons by some unseen force—at the thought of her tied up in that basement, seconds away from agony. Releasing a shuddered breath, I swipe my thumbs along her cheekbones to collect more rogue tears. “You didn’t know?”
Viviana shakes her head, sniffling. “No. I don’t know, maybe I knew subconsciously. Because once I said the words out loud, it was almost like I believed them as much as Elenora did.”
Unable to stop myself, I bend to capture her lips with my own. She tastes like home, settling the deep ache in my sternum.
“I’m so sorry, Viviana,” I whisper, kissing her one last time before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “You never should’ve been put in harms way. Thank you for protecting our baby.”
Her chin twitches, and more salty emotion trails down her cheeks, but her smile doesn’t fade. “Thanks for rescuing me. I mean, us, ” she amends, placing her unbroken hand on her belly. Unbridled love brims in her gaze, and my own palm drops to rest on top of hers, cradling her flat stomach and the little life beneath our fingers. Our child. My wife. My reasons for existing.
“I love you.”
The words slip from my mouth before I can stop them. They’re foreign on my tongue. Three words that I don’t think I’ve ever said before. They don’t come close to expressing what I truly feel for this woman.
I don’t think there are words in the dictionary to properly describe the overwhelming need to make her smile. To hear her laughing in the kitchen with Carlo while they try a new vegan recipe. To watch her stomp around the yard while attempting to teach Biggie basic obedience. To connect our bodies as one flesh and feel her come undone around me.
“I love you, too,” she whispers, wrapping her hands around my neck and pulling my head down to kiss me. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I’d hoped,” I purr against her lips, my own lips peeling into a smile. “But it’s nice to hear you say it.”
Viviana playfully tugs the hair at the back of my neck, and we laugh through our kiss.
It’s hard to recall the time, not too long ago, when she wasn’t the center of my universe. I never knew how empty my existence was until my little hellion strode into her father’s office with her head high and her ‘ Van Gogh Away’ shirt on. But she’s here, and she eclipses every inky shadow in my life—in our dangerous world.
She’s here. She’s safe. She’s mine. And she loves me.