Alessia
I’ve been in the hospital for nearly a week—an eternity, if you ask me. With the constant poking and prodding, I’ve felt more like a science experiment than a patient. The bruises on my body are beginning to fade, shifting from deep purple to mottled yellow-green, though the ache in my ribs remains.
It took threatening both the doctor and Antonio that I’d walk out on my own before they finally agreed. Thankfully, I’m going home today.
Antonio sits beside me, his hand resting lightly on mine as we wait for my discharge papers. There’s something weighing on me—something I can’t leave unsaid.
I shift slightly, gathering the courage to speak. “Antonio,” I begin softly, turning to face him. “What happened to Ophelia? You haven’t mentioned her other than to tell me she was somehow involved.”
He stiffens beside me, and I brace myself for the truth. “Ophelia set you up and allowed you to be taken.”
My heart sinks. “That can’t be true. Ophelia wouldn’t do that to me.”
“She said a man came to the gallery, claimed he was your brother. He told her I was holding you against your will, that I beat you. He offered her money to get you alone so he could rescue you.”
“I’m sure she thought she was helping,” I whisper as the pieces begin to fall into place. “She didn’t know the truth about my father or Valentino.”
Antonio shakes his head clearly frustrated. “She didn’t even bother to ask you. She just let him take you.”
Tears well up in my eyes as I grasp the reality of the situation. “I should’ve told her everything—about Valentino, about my father, about you. Maybe if she knew the truth?—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Antonio says firmly. “She believed a lie instead of coming to us. She played right into Draco’s hands.”
“Where is she? Is she okay?” I ask, my voice steady but laced with tension.
He looks away for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “She’s fine, tesoro . She’s in the basement at the restaurant.”
My chest tightens at his response, and I sit up straighter, my voice firmer. “You’re holding her in that room, aren’t you? The torture room? I know why you did it, but my father’s gone. You need to let her go.”
“I can’t just let her walk away. She knows too much.”
I shake my head, refusing to back down. “Ophelia’s not a threat, Antonio. She was unknowingly caught in the middle of this mess.” I wave my hand. “You don’t need to punish her.”
His jaw tightens, his gaze narrowing. “This isn’t about punishment. It’s about making sure nothing comes back to hurt us. I refuse to take any more chances.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “I understand that, but keeping her there? Against her will? You’re better than this,” I say, lowering my voice. “You’re not like them.”
He flinches at the comparison, and I see the conflict in his eyes. I reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Please, Antonio. Let her go.”
His hand tightens around mine, his brow furrowing as he considers my words. There’s a long pause, and I hold my breath, waiting for his response.
Finally, he exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing. “I’ll let her go,” he says quietly, but his voice remains firm. “But she’ll leave with a warning—a courtesy I’ll only extend this one time.”
“I understand,” I say and rest my head on his shoulder.
Antonio presses a kiss to my forehead.
There’s a knock on the door a moment before it swings open. I expect to see someone with my discharge papers. Instead, the doctor steps in, followed by a nurse pushing a machine. “I’d like to do one more ultrasound before we let you go,” he says.
This time, I’ll be awake for it. I glance over at Antonio, and he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, though the concern in his eyes is unmistakable. Even though everything has been fine so far, there’s still a lingering fear—what if something goes wrong?
The doctor prepares the machine while the nurse spreads cold gel across my stomach. I flinch at the chill, but Antonio’s hand remains warm and steady in mine, anchoring me.
The room is silent. I hold my breath as the doctor moves the transducer across my belly, searching. Antonio shifts beside me, leaning in closer, his eyes fixed on the monitor.
Then, without warning, a sound fills the room—a rapid, rhythmic thumping.
The baby’s heartbeat.
It’s strong and steady, and the moment I hear it, I release the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. The relief is so overwhelming that tears fill my eyes.
Awe and emotion soften Antonio’s face. “Our baby,” he breathes.
“Everything looks perfect. The baby’s healthy and growing just as expected.”
Antonio lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. His lips brush against my forehead in a tender kiss. “You’ve given me everything I never knew I needed,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve made my life whole, tesoro .”
I nod, unable to speak through the lump in my throat. How could I respond to words like that? Before Antonio, I’d never truly known what love felt like. It’s overwhelming and terrifying all at once. Inside his embrace is the safest place I’ve ever been. He’s my protector, my partner, and now, the father of my child.
For the first time in my life, I’m not just surviving—I’m living, and I never want to let this go.