“Shh, my love.” I kiss her hands and hold them against my heart. “He’s safe. I promise you. I sent him to the cabin; he’s with Enzo, one of my most trusted men. He’s okay. But he’s worried about you.”
She nods rapidly, nostrils flaring as she tries to catch her breath. “He’s safe?”
I nod. “He’s safe.”
“And… and we are safe?”
Another nod. I kiss each knuckle again, offering her whatever comfort I can.
“Yes, we are safe, amore. But I need you to breathe, okay? Getting yourself worked up won’t help you.”
She leans back into the bed, her breathing steadier now, though fear still flickers in her eyes.
After a few quiet seconds, she turns her head toward me.
“We can never let Daniele find out,” she says, the plea tearing out of her. “Please. He believes you’re his father—because you are. You raised him from his first breath to this moment. He is your son, Matteo. Not his.” Her voice fractures. “If Giacomo ever gets close to him, he’ll twist him into something dark. I won’t let that happen. I can’t.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “And he won’t.”
She grabs my wrist with both hands, gripping hard enough to hurt, desperation lending her strength. “Promise me he’ll never know. Not now. Not ever. Swear it.”
I lean in, press my lips to her forehead, breathe her in like an oath.
“I swear it,” I say against her skin. “On my life.”
She stills. Because she knows what that means.
My word is not a comfort. It is a vow.
And I never break it.
She stays in the hospital overnight while the doctors run their final checks and keep her under observation.
I don’t leave. I sit beside her bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, listening to the quiet machines hum, counting every breath until morning comes.
By dawn, I’ve already given the orders.
The penthouse has been swepttop to bottom. The estate is being reinforced—new cameras, additional guards, tighter rotations.
We’re clear—fornow.
When they finally discharge her, I’m the one who brings the car around. I help her into my arms before she can even think to protest.
She tries anyway—weak, stubborn—but her arms slide around my neck, her head settling against my shoulder like it belongs there. For a moment, I let myself believe the world isn’t on fire. I breathe her in. I let the fear loosen its grip, just enough to survive the drive home.
By the time we reach the house, everything is locked down.
Daniele is already there.
He rises from the couch the second he sees us. He’s been home since early morning—waiting.
“Mom.”
He crosses the room fast—controlled, but barely. I set her down, and she opens her arms to him immediately.
Daniele pulls her close, hugging her tightly. Relief crashes across his features, but fear still shadows his eyes. We all know this peace is temporary.
He glances over her shoulder, meets my eyes. I give him a small nod—she’s okay.
