CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The world around me came into focus, and I opened my eyes, squinting against the lights overhead.
I inhaled a sharp scent of antiseptic and sweat that made me nauseous.
Despite it, I was awake, and more of the world came into focus.
The light of day lit the back of the lowered shutter on the window.
The mask over my mouth was gone, and I was breathing on my own.
Had I awakened again? I didn’t remember.
I tried to move, and my muscles, stiffened by stillness, protested as I shifted my body beneath the starched white sheets.
I swallowed a metallic taste that clung to my tongue that felt thick in my mouth.
“You’re awake,” Rocco said, his voice elevated.
He lifted my hand, careful of the I.V., and pressed a gentle kiss to my skin.
I.V.? Why do I need an I.V.? Memories crashed over me, bringing with them a wave of terror: me in my wedding dress, staring in disbelief at a shard of metal jutting from the front of my body.
Panic gripped me, sharper than the pain itself, as my mind jumped to Judge Colby.
His face was a haunting picture in my head—the scar that marred his face.
He carved into my body. He had branded me, ensuring I would remember him every single day, as I had once hoped I’d done to him.
His revenge was as bad as I imagined death.
Puttana. He called me a bitch, but his slur didn’t hurt as much as where he delivered his blow.
He went for my womb to steal not only my life but also my future.
Beep. Beep. Beep. The heart monitor’s frantic rhythm summoned nurses who hurried inside the room. Rocco released my hand, but I reached for him.
“Don’t go. Stay,” I pleaded as they hovered, checking my heart and breath.
“Are you in pain, Mrs. Marini? I’ll see if the doctor can give you something—”
“No, she can’t receive any more pain medications,” Rocco said. “That was the latest order.”
I grimaced. “But it hurts,” I said, whimpering.
“Maybe an aspirin?” she offered. “I’ll check with Dr. Vitale.”
“Dr. Vitale? My doctor?” I asked in surprise. “She’s a surgeon, too?”
“No, but your surgeon was Dr. Pantalano.”
I stared at Rocco, confused, though things were becoming clearer. He looked freshly showered and was dressed in a pullover and slacks. His wavy hair was neatly combed, but there was more than a day’s growth of beard on his square jaw. Had I been asleep for hours?
My eyes met his that were bloodshot, his expression sullen. He tilted his head down as if measuring his words carefully. “Yeah, Dr. Vitale came to see you here. The police, too. They want your statement.”
I frowned. “Right now?” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to give a statement. Any day with Judge Colby out there was a danger to my family. “I feel a bit…overwhelmed.”
“I know, but they will come by later. I’ll stay with you.”
“Did they find him?” I rasped.
“He’s listed as missing, but I believe they will find him.” His demeanor turned calm.
“Really? But he was close…” My fingers wandered to the aching scar, feeling the throb beneath a bandage already tinged with blood. The sharp scent of sweat and antiseptic filled my lungs, making me screw up my face.
“Are you in pain?” Rocco asked.
“Yeah, but what I want most is a bath. I smell awful.” I wrinkled my nose.
He grinned. “Yeah, you do.”
I laughed and winced.
“Sorry.” He took my hand again. “I’ve been sitting here trying to think of what to tell you.”
“I heard you talking to me.”
His brow rose. “You did?”
I smiled. “I did.”
The nurse returned, handing me two aspirins. I swallowed them, shaking my head. “I hope this helps. Aspirin for a knife wound? That’s almost laughable.”
“It is if the woman is pregnant,” Rocco said in a casual tone.
“What?” My heart pounded, the heart monitor’s beeps fast again. “What did you just say?”
Our eyes met, and his shimmered. “You’re pregnant, Adelina. We’re having a baby.”
“Oh, my God. Seriously? But Dr. Vitale said I wasn’t pregnant. How long have I been pregnant?” I asked in quick succession, barely catching my breath as excitement rose.
“Dr. Vitale thinks the first test a false negative She says you’re more than a month along.”
I let out a cry, and he leaned over and kissed my lips and forehead.
We broke away, and a nagging thought came to mind.
The news should have filled me with joy, but the surprise timing brought on a swirl of emotions.
I was torn between the happiness of a new life and Rocco’s choice.
It put our baby timeline too close to when he hadn’t known about my not taking the birth control pills.
London airport? Probably even earlier than that..
“I thought you’d be ecstatic,” he said, searching my face.
“I am. I…I just wished it had happened when you chose it to,” I said, biting my lip.
“As far as I believe, it was,” he said, smiling. “I love you, and I believe this baby, our baby, was created in love.”
He kissed me again, and I let myself feel that joy, but it was tinged by a shadow of sadness. My eyes returned to the wound on my side, and I thought of Judge Colby.
“He marked me, just as I marked him.”
Rocco’s eyes clouded, and he knew I was talking about my father. “He wasn’t marking you, Bella,” he said solemnly. “He was trying to take your life—”
I shook my head no. “He wanted to make me think of him—”
“No. The police and the doctor both believe your father tried to murder you. If it hadn’t been for the bodice and a few inches over—”
“Yes, I remember hearing the doctor say the bodice saved my life,” I murmured, feeling his hand settle protectively over my stomach. “He didn’t get his way, and you survived. Not only that, but you’re also having a baby—”
“Emanuele,” I whispered.
“Emanuele?” Rocco repeated. “You want to name our son or daughter Emanuele? Faith?”
I smiled. “Yes, that’s what I’ve held onto, what kept us moving forward and…” I hesitated, unsure if he’d think I’d lost my mind if I told him about my vision at the hospital. Perhaps it was a wish of the heart. However, it felt so real.
“And?” he asked.
I swallowed. “That’s our son’s name; he told me when he visited me.”
“Tell me about him,” Rocco urged, his eyes shining.
I described reading Alice in Wonderland to our son in my dreams. In the hospital, he visited me again, this time with Alice Through the Looking Glass. “He gave me a sense of yearning, of course, because I want him, but he also brought hope and faith.”
Rocco nodded. “Emanuele’s ready for our new beginning.” He bent down and kissed my bandaged wound. “This scar is not his. It is your strength, our love, our faith in starting over. He cannot steal what was never his. All of you is mine. You’re my wife, and I love you.”
I believed it, too. “I love you, Rocco Marini.”
He leaned and hovered close to my face, and I wiped a tear off his cheek.
He kissed mine. Then he lifted his hand and placed a palm lightly on my stomach and then placed my hand against the center of his chest. His heart was beating as fast as mine on the monitor, and I loved the sentiment.
Together, we would have a new beginning sealed in our faith and love.
“Be right back,” Rocco said, and I handed him back the pen and paper from the hospital.
The doctor had finally signed the discharge papers after a week, and I would be able to leave.
Was it too soon? The doctors had me stay longer than most patients because of the baby, and being at home would give me a chance to truly relax, and that would usually give me comfort, but I sank onto the bed, my nerves tingling.
Rocco hadn’t been gone but a few minutes when he returned, trailed by a stranger in a crisp suit.
Her short bob and sympathetic, reserved expression marked her as someone official, and I was sure she was law enforcement.
I’d seen a few over my early years when neighbors called the police on the loud fights inside our home.
She gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her hand outstretched on approach.
“Hello, Mrs. Marini. I’m Detective Harriet Barnes. ”
I shook her hand. “Uhm, hello. You speak English.”
“I do. Moved back to Florence in my teens,” she cracked a broader smile. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, and I won’t take up much of your time. I just want to let you know that your father, Mr. Colby, is still missing.” She paused and stared at me.
“He’s still missing? Is he still in Florence?” I asked and closed my hands protectively over my stomach.
“Your father hasn’t used his passport, so we expect he’s still in Europe. So, is there anything about him that you know from the past that he may have mentioned or a person he’d go and see in Italy?”
I rubbed my temples. No. That can’t be right. Didn’t someone have him? Yes? No? I don’t know. “No, he…he didn’t talk about people, only that he’d been here before I was born.”
She took out her iPad. “Can you tell me what you remember? It may help us in our search.”
My voice came out in a rush. “I remember we were on a break from the portrait painting. Santiago asked me to find a spot outside. I went, and then he appeared in one of the rows in the vineyard. He… he bragged that he knew the property very well and not try to get help. He-he called me names.”
“What kind of names?”
“I don’t know…puttana? Bitch?” I raised a brow.
She nodded.
“I told him to leave, and I thought he would, but then he rushed at me. I think I pushed him, but then he was standing there…I…I remembered him laughing with my blood on his hands.” I hugged myself.
“Damn it,” Rocco snarled, fisting his hands on his hips. “Are you done with your questions?” he snapped.
She jutted her chin. “I apologize, Mr. Marini. I came here instead of having Adelina go to the Polizia di Stato. I know it’s difficult to hear, and I sympathize. Would you prefer to wait outside?”
Rocco crossed his arms. “I want you to be more sensitive. She’s pregnant and still under the doctor’s care.”
“Apologies, Mr. Marini,” she said in an even tone, then shifted her attention back to me. “Mrs. Marini, I want you to give me a little more detail. It might help in the future should it progress to charges. You saw him where?”
“Near the vineyard off the patio. He was down the small hill and steps.”
“Then what happened?” she asked.
I rubbed the space between my brows. “We argued—”
“About what?”
“About how I didn’t want him there, and I wanted him away from me. Then he called me names, whore or bitch or something like that. I told him to leave again, but then he just rushed and…” I squeezed my eyes shut. No, I don’t want to think about it.
“Do you have enough, Detective?” Rocco asked in a curt tone.
“No, I have a couple more questions, Mr. Marini. We want as much information as possible so we can get him into custody. So, tell me anything else you remember about him.”
“He had strong body odor, and he smelled acidic, like he was on drugs,” I said. “He was filthy, like he’d rolled in dirt or was strung out.”
“You’ve seen him like that before?” she asked, taking notes.
“Yes, many times. He was in a treatment center for drug abuse in the United States. He also has some records of domestic violence calls, but they may be sealed or removed.” As a judge, he always had the rich and powerful willing to do his bidding.
“Hmm, okay,” she murmured. “Anything else you remember?”
I shook my head, wincing as my fingers brushed the bandage beneath my loose cotton cardigan. He stabbed me. The shock still reverberated. How did I miss the depth of his hatred? No, it wasn’t my fault. He was always capable of this.
“Mrs. Marini, do you have anything else you’d like to share that you think would be helpful for us?”
“No. I only know he stabbed me, and someone came from the house to help. That’s it.”
“If you remember something else…” She handed Rocco her card. “Thank you, Marinis.”
We politely thanked her, then followed her out, but went down a different hallway at the end of the corridor, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Rocco gently took my arm. “We’ll be back home in no time. Magda has already prepared your favorite dishes, and I’m sure you want to spend some time catching up with everyone…”
Rocco continued to speak, but I couldn’t hear him. My pulse hammered, and my stomach churned. I stopped walking and clutched my stomach.
“Adelina? What’s wrong?”
My body heated with sweat, and I gagged, vomiting out on the floor.
Rocco stopped a nearby nurse. “Get something for her, please.” He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to me. My hands shook so rapidly; he took it back and wiped my mouth. I lowered my head and could see the vomit had spilled on my jersey and shoes. My face warmed.
“I’m sorry.”
Rocco took a towel from the nurse and wiped over my front, then knelt and gently dabbed the stains away on my shoes.
The nurse frowned and spoke rapidly in Italian. “I should get the doctor—”
I shook my head no at Rocco.
He told her. “She’s pregnant and I’m taking her home to rest.”
The nurse nodded and walked away.
A hospital worker came and started to clean up the floor.
“Rocco?” I rasped, my throat raw.
“Yes, Bella,” he said, gentling his voice.
“I can’t go back to the house right now. Can we go to Luca’s?”
“Yes, we can. Whatever you need,” he assured and stood up.
I glanced around at all the faces of people looking at us in the nearby waiting room.
He tucked me into his side, and we walked outside.
The loud noises and rush of traffic sped my pulse.
There were groups of people. What if Judge Colby runs over and hurts Rocco?
The baby? My eyes blurred with fear, and I closed my hand protectively over my stomach.
“You’re not safe. We’re not safe, Rocco. ”
He wrapped his arms around me but quickly helped me back inside the car, holding me close. “We are. I promise you.”
But how could he when Judge Colby hadn’t been found?