Chapter 30 Isabella
ISABELLA
I jolt awake, panic charging through my veins. The room spins as I blink rapidly, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
A middle-aged man in a white coat stands beside me, adjusting something next to me. I notice a tube running from it to my arm.
“No!” I jerk, trying to disconnect.
“You’re safe now, Mrs. Ginetti,” he says, putting a firm hand over mine to keep me from ripping out the IV. “Try to stay calm."
It takes another moment before I realize I’m home… or in Roman’s home. I’m safe.
Just when I’m about to feel relieved, a new wave of panic tumbles through me. “My baby.” Roman doesn't even know. What if it's too late? What if Salvatore's violence and whatever drug they injected me with has already…?
"Please," I beg the doctor, clutching at his sleeve. "I'm pregnant. Is my baby okay?"
“You’re pregnant? How far along?" the doctor asks, his expression kind but unreadable.
"I don't know exactly. A few weeks? I just found out. Please, just tell me if my baby is okay."
The doctor gently removes my hand from his arm and places it back on the bed. "Mrs. Ginetti, I understand your concern." He adjusts his glasses. "I don't have the proper equipment here to confirm the status of your pregnancy with absolute certainty."
My breath catches. I feel like I'm hanging from a cliff by my fingertips.
“But your vitals are good, and I don't see any immediate signs of miscarriage.”
"But you're not sure," I press, searching his face for any hint of certainty.
"I can only tell you what I know right now," he explains, his tone measured.
"You've been through significant trauma, and the sedative they administered was powerful.
I've given you fluids and medication that shouldn't harm a developing fetus, but to be completely thorough, we'll need an ultrasound and blood work. "
I close my eyes, trying to process his words. Not a definite yes, but not a no, either. Just this terrible limbo of not knowing.
"When can we do those tests?”
“I’ll arrange for the equipment to be brought. That should give us a good understanding of what’s going on, but you’ll want to go to a clinic or hospital when you’re stronger,” he says. "For now, try to rest. Stress won't help your condition or the pregnancy."
I nod, trying to calm myself. “How’d I get here?”
"Mr. Ginetti insisted on bringing you here rather than a hospital. I'm Dr. Montano. I work exclusively for La Corona families."
Of course. No hospitals, no records, no questions. I should have known.
"What happened to me?" I ask, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. Salvatore's face, twisted with rage. The needle. Then nothing but darkness.
Dr. Montano takes my wrist to check my pulse. "Your husband will know more. You've been unconscious for nearly eighteen hours."
Eighteen hours?
"The drug is metabolizing properly.” He releases my wrist. "Your vitals are strong, which is encouraging for both you and the potential pregnancy."
I glance around the room, suddenly aware that we're alone.
I sink back against the pillows, relief mingling with a new anxiety. Roman still doesn't know.
And after everything that's happened with Salvatore, the revelation that his brother and my mother were somehow connected in this web of betrayal, I wonder what he must think.
"Where is he?" I ask, needing to see him, to understand what happened after I lost consciousness.
"He's been by your side almost constantly," Dr. Montano says, packing instruments into his bag. "But he checks on his daughter as well. He should be back shortly."
My relief about the baby is momentarily overshadowed by another terrifying thought.
Angelica.
The memory crashes back, hiding her under the bed, telling her to stay quiet, praying Salvatore wouldn't find her.
"Angelica," I gasp, trying to sit up despite the room spinning. "Is she okay? Did they hurt her?"
Dr. Montano gently places a hand on my shoulder, urging me back against the pillows. "Mrs. Ginetti, please try to remain calm. As far as I know, Angelica is perfectly fine."
"You're sure?”
"Mr. Ginetti found her exactly where you told her to hide," he assures me, his voice steady. "She was frightened, naturally, but physically unharmed. She's the one who called her father when the intruders left with you."
I exhale shakily, tears of relief spilling down my cheeks.
That brave, smart little girl.
She did exactly what I told her and stayed hidden until it was safe.
"Thank God," I whisper, closing my eyes briefly. "She must have been so scared."
"Children are often more resilient than we give them credit for," Dr. Montano says, offering a small smile. "From what I understand, she's been asking about you."
The thought of Angelica worried about me brings fresh tears to my eyes.
In just these few weeks, despite my initial awkwardness and her understandable resistance, we've formed a bond I never expected.
The idea that she might have been hurt because of me, because of my connection to all this madness, is unbearable.
"Try to rest, Mrs. Ginetti. I'll check on you again in a few hours."
He moves toward the door, and as it opens, Roman's voice sounds through the quiet hallway, low and intense, but I can’t make out the words.
I lie in bed, trying to decide how I’m going to tell him about the baby. Will he be happy?
At one time, Roman promised to help me leave once this was over. He offered me the very thing I'd been desperate for since my mother died.
Freedom. A clean break. A new life away from the violence and control of La Corona.
But I don't want it anymore.
I want breakfasts with Angelica, teaching her to sew, watching her face light up when she masters a new stitch.
I want Roman's arms around me at night, his whispered conversations in the dark.
I want to be there when Angelica starts middle school, has her first heartbreak.
I want to see Roman's face when I tell him about our baby.
I'm in love with him. With both of them.
Somehow, in the midst of all this chaos and danger, I've found a family I never knew I wanted.
But what if he doesn't feel the same? What if, now that this business with Salvatore and my mother's murder is resolved, Roman is relieved to honor his promise and send me away?
The thought makes my chest ache.
My thoughts drift to the photos I'd seen in the family album. Roman and Emilia, their faces lit with genuine happiness.
She was beautiful in a natural, unassuming way. The kind of beauty that comes from within.
In every picture, Roman looked at her with such adoration. A real love match, Elena had called it.
She probably never betrayed him, never kept secrets, never made him doubt her loyalty.
Not like me.
Emilia was the wife Roman chose, the woman he loved enough to build a life with. I'm just the woman forced upon him by circumstance. A burden, a duty, a potential threat he's been tasked with monitoring.
What would she think of my sleeping in her bed? Wearing her husband's ring? Carrying his child?
Would she hate me for stepping into the life she was torn from too soon? Or worse, would she pity me for loving a man whose heart will always belong to her?
The tears come unbidden, hot and silent. How can I possibly measure up to a ghost?
A perfect memory preserved in Roman's mind, untarnished by time or disappointment.
Emilia will always be the woman who gave Roman his greatest treasure, Angelica.
She'll always be his first choice, his true love.
And I'll always be second-best. The replacement. The compromise.
What if Roman resents this baby? What if, instead of seeing it as a blessing, he views it as a betrayal of Emilia's memory? What if he looks at our child and only wishes it were hers instead?
How ironic that I've spent so long fighting against the constraints of this life but now wish I could stay in this world and have a future with Roman and Angelica and this child growing inside me.
But now it feels too late. If I tell him about the baby, he’ll do the honorable thing, just as he always does.
But that will mean that I’ll never know if he stays because he wants to or because he feels he must.
The thought of binding him to me through duty rather than desire is unbearable.
Roman deserves to choose his own path, just as I've always wanted to choose mine.
I steel myself for the heartache I know is coming. For the possibility of raising this child alone, away from the only man I've ever truly loved.
For not being able to watch Angelica grow up.
For building a life separate from the one I've just discovered I want more than anything.