Chapter 19 Gio #2
Striding to the locked double doors that separated the waiting room from the area where they treated patients, I began to beat on the unyielding surface with my fists.
There was a shout calling for security from behind me, and when someone grabbed my arm, I rammed my elbow back to the sound of a satisfying crack of bone.
“Son of a bitch!” A familiar voice broke through my haze of panic. “I think you broke my nose!”
I swung on Enzo. “Where. Is. She?”
Blood poured from around my cousin’s fingers, which were clutched to his nose as he shot me a death glare.
“They took her up to L the pity in her blue eyes when she aimed them in my direction caused my lungs to seize.
Collapsing onto the nearest chair, I shook my head. “No. She can’t be gone.”
Summer moved closer, dropping onto the seat beside me and taking my hand. “I managed to drag her out before the support beams gave out and the building collapsed. She’s pretty banged up, but she’s alive. The baby too.”
A rush of emotions flooded my nervous system, making me dizzy, but I hung my head with a weak “Thank God.” Rising on shaky legs, I asked, “Can you take me to her?”
“Of course.” She led me over to the desk, where I was issued a visitor’s badge, and then we were granted access to the patient rooms. Matteo elected to stay behind in the waiting area.
During our walk down the long hallway, I couldn’t help but notice the sounds coming from the rooms we passed.
There were women screaming in the throes of labor and babies crying as they took their first breath.
But when we reached the door marked with the name Bellini, the silence coming from within shook me to the core.
“Do you want me to come inside with you?” Summer asked from my side.
Releasing a shuddering breath, I declined her offer before pushing through the door.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust in the darkened room, but when they did, and I caught sight of Rory lying in a hospital bed, looking more fragile than I’d ever seen her, something cracked open inside my chest.
There were cuts on her face, down the side of one arm, and there was no telling what kind of damage the hospital gown covering most of her body hid from view. Eyes closed, she lay so still that if it weren’t for the monitors at her bedside, I would have had a hard time believing she was breathing.
This was all my fault. If I’d just listened to Matteo all those years ago and let her go— started over with someone else—Rory would have been kept safe from those seeking to destroy me.
But no, my ego had demanded revenge for being denied an heir.
I’d gotten a sick satisfaction out of deceiving her, impregnating her without her consent, and dragging her back to Chicago, where I planned to hold her captive for the rest of her days.
It wasn’t any wonder that she hated my guts.
Stepping closer to the bed, I dropped onto the lone chair beside it, taking her limp hand in mine. I brought it to my lips, breathing against her skin, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
At the sound of a soft moan, my head snapped up. With her eyes still closed, Rory’s brow was furrowed as she shifted restlessly.
I was halfway out of my seat, ready to call for a doctor, when her lashes lifted and twin blue gems filled with confusion locked on my face. “Gio?”
“I’m here, baby.” I squeezed her hand.
“Where’s here?” she croaked before wincing, like it was painful to speak.
Deciding not to overwhelm her with the details, I explained, “The hospital.”
There was a sharp gasp, and she sat bolt upright.
The sudden movement about damn near gave me a heart attack. “What? What is it?”
“Ow,” she whimpered, pressing a palm to the side of her head before it fell to her belly, and sheer terror filled her eyes, lower lip trembling. “The baby?”
“I haven’t spoken to a doctor yet, but Summer said he’s okay.”
Twin tears crested her lashes to spill down her cheeks, her chest heaving with sobs as she clutched her stomach. “Th-there was blood. I-I thought . . .”
My eyes slammed shut, the pain of almost losing her making it hard to breathe. “Me too.”
“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice called from near the door.
As soon as I saw a doctor had joined us, I began to demand answers. “What’s her condition? When can I take her home?”
The middle-aged man chuckled. “I take it you’re the father?”
“Husband,” I corrected. For reasons I couldn’t explain, that title felt more important.
Turning his attention to my wife, he asked, “How are you feeling, Rory?”
Trying to sit upright, she sucked in a hissing breath. “Sore.”
“That’s to be expected. From the eyewitness account, you were knocked off your feet by the force of the blast. While you’ve got a significant amount of bruising, along with lacerations on your right side, a burst eardrum, and a concussion, you are very fortunate your injuries weren’t more severe.”
“And my baby?” Her voice trembled.
“We did an ultrasound when you first arrived and have been monitoring his vitals ever since. His heart rate is strong, and there are no signs of a placental abruption, which was our chief concern after sustaining blunt force trauma to the abdomen.”
“Blunt force trauma,” I repeated his words in a daze.
The doctor grimaced. “Try not to panic when you lift your hospital gown. The bruising looks scary, but it’s more pronounced because your body’s blood supply increases by fifty percent during pregnancy, and hormonal changes make blood vessels more prone to rupture.”
Almost like she couldn’t resist, Rory reached down to tug on the hem of the garment covering her stomach. When her bare belly came into view—one side colored purple, a shade so dark it was almost black—my wife burst into tears.
My fists clenched. The people responsible for this were going to die a slow and painful death.
Clearing my throat, I spoke to the doctor. “How soon can she be discharged?” We were too exposed here. I needed to get her home, tucked safely behind the heavily guarded walls of my estate.
“As of right now, I have no pressing concerns that would require me to keep her overnight for observation. I find that most patients are able to rest more comfortably at home, anyway, after a traumatic event. But if you experience any cramping or bleeding, you need to come back in right away. Understood?”
“Yes, of course.” I stood to shake his hand. “Thank you.”
“I’ll get to work on that paperwork now. Take care, Rory.” He strode from the room, leaving us alone.
Running a hand through my hair, I released a heavy sigh.
Dario hadn’t just come for my son this time; he’d come for my wife.
If it took burning this entire city to the ground to end him, the collateral damage would be worth it.
I couldn’t wait to piss on his ashes.