Chapter 20
TWENTY
Tony
Lucia lunges at Rafael with a fury that doesn’t match her swollen belly. I immediately move toward her, but before I can wedge myself between them, she reaches her target. Her nails rake across Rafael’s face as she screams, her voice raw with grief.
“You bastard! You killed my brother. You killed my brother!”
Rafael doesn’t so much as raise a hand to defend himself.
He just stands there, taking every slap and punch she throws.
Despite being inches away, I’m paralyzed for a moment, unsure of how to intervene without risking harm to the baby.
The instinct to protect my kid is so strong, I hesitate to even touch her.
When a couple of her wild swings land on my face and neck, I realize there’s no choice, I have to act.
I move behind her and wrap my arms around her torso, careful not to touch her belly.
I apply just enough pressure to pull her back, but her strength shocks me.
Adrenaline has made her terrifyingly strong.
She thrashes wildly, kicking and clawing. Pressing my face close to her ear, I try to soothe her, my voice low and steady. “Calm down, baby. You’re pregnant. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Her hand flies back and her nails rake across my cheek as she screams, “You bastards killed my brother! You killed him! I’ll kill you, I swear to God, I’ll kill you!”
I ignore the burning sting on my face, tightening my grip on her to keep her from falling.
“Your fucking brother is alive, Lucia!” I growl, this time, with more anger in my voice. “But if you keep fighting and hurt yourself, I’ll take his head off myself!”
My words have no effect. She screams back at me. “You’re lying! You killed him!”
“I didn’t kill him! He’s in Chicago. He came here to see you. Calm the fuck down, and I swear I’ll bring him to you tonight so you can see for yourself, everything is intact, from his balls to his hair.”
This time, my words seem to register. She’s still sobbing and gasping for air but slows her struggle slightly.
“That envelope was his,” she wails through her tears. “I gave it to him myself. Why was it bloody? Why is this bastard’s shirt covered in blood? You’re lying to me!”
I glance at the “bastard” she’s talking about.
Rafael has grabbed a cloth and is calmly wiping the blood from his face and neck.
The scratches on his neck and parts of his face are still bleeding.
I gesture toward him to leave the room. He obeys, taking a step toward the door, but Lucia thrashes again.
“I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll kill you!”
Never in my wildest dreams did I think Lucia could be this wild. She fights with the strength of a man, battling me with everything she has. For a split second, she slips out of my grasp, but I quickly wrap my arms around her again, pulling her back.
I finally lose my patience. “Goddamn it, woman. Calm the fuck down!”
Miraculously, she falls silent. Strands of her hair have come loose, falling across her face and blocking my view. I look at Rafael. He’s standing still, staring at the floor with deep concern. I follow his line of sight and see a puddle spreading across the floor.
Confused, I whip my head back to Lucia. I gently brush her hair aside and turn her face to me.
Her skin is flushed red from the struggle.
Her beautiful eyes, now bloodshot, are brimming with tears that trail down her cheeks, pooling at her chin and neck.
She places a trembling hand over her stomach, her voice breaking.
“I can’t overpower you two…but tonight, you’ll lose me and your daughter, Tony. That’s your punishment for killing my brother.”
I shake her gently, trying to bring her back. My anger, laced with fear and helplessness, rises like a tide. “Stop talking nonsense. Your fucking brother is alive.”
She only shakes her head weakly, refusing to believe me. Before I can argue further, Rafael steps closer.
“Tony, we need to get her to the hospital.”
I frown. “Why?”
He points toward the floor. “Can’t you see? Her water just broke.”
My gaze drops to the floor, and what I’ve been too blinded by fear to notice finally registers. Her water has broken, weeks too early.
I waste no time and lift her in my arms effortlessly. She doesn’t resist. She doesn’t even move. She’s utterly limp in my arms.
I head for the elevator and shout at the top of my lungs. “Call ahead and have the car ready—now!”
After what feels like an eternity, we finally reach the parking garage. Without wasting a second, the car takes off like fast toward the nearest hospital. My eyes never leave Lucia. Her face is deathly pale, a sickly yellow that tightens my chest. Her words keep ringing in my head.
“Tonight, you’ll lose me and your daughter.”
I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, pulling her closer to my chest. My voice is a low murmur, heavy with desperation. “I swear on our daughter’s life, your brother is alive, Lucia.”
But she doesn’t react. Her eyes stare past me, completely detached from everything around her. I kiss her again, this time, there’s a plea hidden in my touch.
“Don’t do this to me, Lucia. Please, don’t do this.”
***
“Unfortunately, she’s lost a lot of amniotic fluid. If she were calmer, I’d try to wait two more weeks with antibiotics and monitoring. But given her shock and the risk of the sac rupturing completely, I strongly recommend a C-section.”
With my arms crossed over my chest, I listen to the doctor’s words. Through the half-open door, I glance at Lucia, asleep.
“Is there a risk of death?” I ask.
“Yes. Unfortunately, in cases of complete rupture, the baby might not survive.”
I focus on the doctor’s round face and rephrase my question. “I mean for the mother.”
He strokes his stubble. “The risk for the mother is very low. However…”
He gestures in the air and continues in a calm tone. “Postpartum depression is very likely in cases like your wife’s. Depression might not sound serious, but in cases like this it can become severe enough that a mother might harm herself or the baby. I strongly recommend seeing a psychiatrist.”
Lucia’s voice echoes in my head again. “Tonight, you’ll lose me and your daughter. This is your punishment, Tony.”
The depression hasn’t even waited for the birth.
Lucia’s already convinced she’s going to lose this baby, and it’s all because of her dumbass brother and those fuckers who disobeyed my orders.
A few hours ago Rafael told me her brother was wandering the city, asking for our address.
I told him to find the bastard and bring him to me in one piece so I could hear what he had to say.
Meanwhile, we caught one of the men who killed my lawyer. By the time we finished with him, Rafael’s shirt was covered in blood.
A few hours later, I got word that my men had captured Fabiano.
Instead of handing him over to me, they took it upon themselves to interrogate him.
Apparently, he resisted, and they decided to beat him down.
The only thing they found on him was that blue envelope, the one that has somehow managed to wreak havoc on everything.
I don’t even know what’s inside it, but it has single-handedly destroyed any semblance of peace I had left.
The worst part? Fabiano managed to escape. Now, I have no idea where the hell he’s hiding. If I catch him, I’ll drag him back by the neck so his sister can see he’s alive, and only here to ruin my fucking life.
A few steps away, Rafael is on the phone. The way he walks toward me after hanging up tells me trouble is coming.
“What now?” I ask.
“We need to leave. Some staff here are on Noah’s payroll. It won’t be long before he shows up himself.”
I clench my fists. “Son of a bitch.”
With Lucia lying pale and fragile in the hospital bed, I can’t afford to take any chances.
“Find Fabiano,” I say. “I don’t care if he’s buried under a rock, I want him in front of me by noon tomorrow.”
***
I’ve been standing here, staring at the glass incubator in front of me for several long minutes now. Inside, my daughter is breathing with the help of machines. She was born two days ago, precisely at 10:14 AM, weighing just four pounds and six ounces, with underdeveloped lungs.
I stare at her tiny hands, tiny feet, her wrinkled skin.
I’d bet she could fit in the palm of my hand.
Her tiny body seems lost beneath all the medical equipment and tubes.
The doctor says a few more days in the NICU and her lungs will be fine, but every time I see that tube in her nose, my stomach twists.
I feel completely helpless. I’m her father, her protector. But here she is, fighting for her life, and I can’t do a damn thing to help her.
Leaning in, I press a kiss to the glass, the sound muffled by the medical mask on my face.
“You’re the strongest girl in the world, my love,” I whisper.
“Daddy’s right here. I’m not going anywhere until I get to hold you in my arms.”
I don’t know if she hears me, but she squeezes her little eyes tighter and slightly lifts her tiny fists.
My phone vibrates, breaking the moment. I finally tear myself away from her and leave the room. I strip off the gown, mask, and cap and toss them in the bin. A message from Rafael waits for me.
Relief hits me when I read it. The little punk’s been found.
I text him to bring him in immediately and head straight for Lucia’s room. As I open the door, I find her lying awake, staring out the window.
Her nurse stands as soon as she notices me.
“I couldn’t get her to eat anything,” the nurse whispers. “Her body won’t last much longer like this.”
I sit beside her bed, gently brushing the strands of hair away from her pale, gaunt face. For the past two days, she’s either been asleep or pretending to be. Not once has she asked about our daughter.
“I married Carlo because of Fabiano,” she says, her voice as fragile as her body. I don’t interrupt to tell her, again, that her brother is alive. She wouldn’t believe me. I let her vent.