Chapter Sixty-Five Ella
Chapter Sixty-Five
Ella
Rhia’s hand clamps around mine the second Lex cracks the waiting room door.
Antonio is still out there.
I see him through the glass before I even step over the threshold, standing at an angle where he can watch the entire room without anyone inside having a clear view of him. His gaze lifts the moment I appear, as if he’s been waiting for this.
He pushes off the wall as we step out, pocketing his phone with a smoothness that makes my skin crawl.
“Miss O’Neil,” he says, already blocking the corridor. “We’re leaving shortly.”
The words hit like a slap. They’re not a suggestion. They’re an order.
My breath refuses to go all the way in. The hallway suddenly feels too exposed.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I manage, my voice hoarse.
He can’t tell me what to do.
Antonio’s expression doesn’t change. “The jet is being readied to take you home.”
Home.
What a ridiculous notion. My home is somewhere in this hospital, being transported to the morgue.
“Home to where?” I ask, even though it’s not hard to work out where he wants to take me.
“Sicily,” he replies curtly, as if I’m slow.
A cold rush floods my limbs.
“No.” The sound tears out of me before I can swallow it back. “I’m not returning to Sicily.”
Antonio’s eyes narrow.
“Miss O’Neil, you have no say in this. You’re carrying the heir to the De Marco empire. Don Mateo insists you live where he can protect you and care for you.”
“Protect,” I spit, the bitterness sharp on my tongue. “You mean control.”
Lex shifts slightly beside me, not touching, not moving too fast, but I feel him there, a steady presence close enough that if I collapse again he’ll catch me.
Rhia’s grip tightens around my hand. Her thumb strokes once over my knuckles.
Keep it together.
I swallow hard, trying to breathe through the burn in my throat and not picture iron gates and locked doors.
“I’m not going to be imprisoned again,” I say, my voice rising despite my attempt to keep it level.
Antonio’s mouth twists.
“You were the fiancée of Don Gualtiero. You’ll never be a prisoner.”
He hesitates, then makes a vague motion with his hands, as if searching for the right words.
“More like… a distinguished guest.”
Baroni used that term when Tiero first kidnapped me. The phrase is meant to soften the cage. It doesn’t.
“Distinguished guest,” I repeat, huffing out a laugh. “So you’ll smile while you lock the door.”
Antonio’s jaw tightens. “Enough.”
His tone rubs me the wrong way. Despite my grief, or maybe because of it, anger boils up inside me, making me reckless.
“Just tell Mateo I lost the baby. Tell him the stress did it, that I miscarried.”
Rhia stiffens beside me.
Antonio’s face twists with disgust.
“Do you honestly think I will lie to my Don? I swore my loyalty. My allegiance is to the De Marco family. I won’t break my vow for you.”
His voice goes colder on the last word.
“You will return to Sicily.”
The hallway tilts, just slightly, as if my body is trying to fold again under the weight of it.
No. Not this time.
Not while I still have a chance to choose something different.
My hand flies to my stomach instinctively.
My pulse spikes, fear and resolve twisting together until I can’t tell them apart.
“The hell I will,” I shout, shoving Antonio hard in the chest when he steps closer to reach for my arm.
I move without thinking.
“Ella,” Rhia yells.
In my periphery, I see her shove Lex out of the way. He staggers backward, colliding into Antonio who’s just righted himself. The two of them lose their balance and tumble to the floor with a thud that echoes down the corridor.
Antonio swears.
“Ella,” Lex barks, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “Wait—”
I don’t.
I run, my right hand bracing the sling against my body. Rhia is close behind me, and together we sprint down the hallway.
My lungs burn. My legs feel too heavy, like I’m running through water.
I force myself to keep going, my mind a blur of images and sounds, of Tiero’s pale face, the flat line, and the words time of death.
I can’t let myself think of him. If I do, I’ll stop. And if I stop, I’ll lose everything.
A cart clatters as we round a corner. I clip it with my shoulder, and it tips. Equipment skitters across the floor.
My heartbeat hammers in my ears.
I don’t slow. Rhia doesn’t either. The glass doors are ahead, the early morning light spilling through them.
Freedom looks like a pale sky, asphalt, and cold air.
But there are a lot of Tiero’s men out there. Two SUVs are lined up near the entrance, with more of them on the street. Drivers lean against the vehicles, half-asleep, looking menacing even when they’re trying to appear casual.
I stop running and hide behind a large potted plant, taking it all in. The ground suddenly seems less solid.
“No,” I whisper.
Rhia’s voice snaps like a whip. “Keep going. Front car with the blue highlights,” she fires off, pointing to the vehicle I need to take.
She steps forward, but I grab her wrist and pull her back.
“You have to stay.”
She huffs. “As if I’d ever let you go through this alone. Besides, you can’t drive with just one hand.”
I will if I have to. Grief and anger cloud my thoughts, but I still see what this will cost her.
“Rhia, you can’t give up everything for me.”
Tears blur my vision, her face warping as she shakes her head.
“El, we don’t have time,” she says. “I know the consequences. I’ve made my choice.”
But I can’t let her throw her life away to be on the run with me. Forever.
“What about Lex?” I ask, grasping for anything that might stop her.
Noise behind us makes us both turn. Lex and Antonio come skidding around the corner, closing in fast.
“He knows,” Rhia says, her gaze locking on Lex for a microsecond.
Then she grabs my hand and yanks me forward.
“Come on. Let’s go.”