Why wasn’t she fucking answering me? Did she hurt herself? Oh shit! She wouldn’t harm herself would she? Not because of Emily?
I whipped the door open as soon as the lock clicked open, scanning the room for my wife. Glass pieces and objects from our dresser tops and her vanity were scattered everywhere. In the middle of the room was a pile of shattered glass and liquid. The alcohol from the minibar. I could see some blood in the mess too, heightening the urgency inside me. I kept scanning until my eyes fell on my wife, laying on the floor on her side, up against the wall near the doorway. There was blood all over her hands and arms. I rushed to her, and kneeled, then noticed blood on her dress between her legs.
Oh God no!
I couldn’t focus on that right now. I pulled her gently into my arms, and whispered her name, “Catalina? Baby?”
No response, but I could see her breathing. It was a small relief, but I needed to get her to a doctor. I scooped her up ever so gently into my arms, and held her close to my chest.
I whispered to her, “Please. Stay with me, baby.”
My men followed closely behind as I rushed out of the room. I began barking orders.
“Get the car. I need to get her to the hospital. Now!”
My men moved, as they always did, when I gave out orders. My men were loyal. Even when I was being a fucking ass. They showed loyalty to me, and I to them. But where was this loyalty for my wife?
During the drive to the hospital, I held Catalina in my arms, not wanting to let her go. I fucked up. Badly. I didn’t know if we could come back from what had happened up to this point, but I refused to lose my wife. We would figure it out. We had to. I couldn’t lose her.
Chapter 7
Catalina’s POV
I heard annoying beeping sounds, and felt a coolness that I knew was not from home. My hands moved lightly, feeling a rough, thick blanket. I could feel pain like scratches on my hands and arms. There was a dull ache in my stomach, and my body felt heavy.
The baby.
I could feel tears forming in my closed eyes, when I heard his voice. My husband.
“Catalina?”
I was trying to stay still.
“Baby? I know you’re awake.”
My eyes fluttered open as a tear slid down the side of my face. The bright light hit hard, making me move my hand to my eyes, closing them again. I could hear his breath and it irritated me. I don’t know why he was here.
I remembered back to the dinner party, the slap to my face, the slap to that bitches face, then me destroying the room. I hadbeen drinking. I should have known better, but I hadn’t cared. I had been selfish, angry, and destructive. The one person who I thought cared, destroyed what we had. Or what I thought we had. My parents had been right. Unfortunately. No one to rely on, but yourself.
My voice came out scratchy and raw. “Why are you here?”
“Baby, do you remember what happened?”
I snorted, keeping my eyes closed, hand in place. “Of course I remember. You brought your fucking whore to a dinner you told me not to come to and disrespected me.” He took in a breath. “Then your precious whore put her fucking hands on me and you sat there with your head up your ass,coglione.”
I could feel the tension in the room, but I no longer had any fucks to give.
“Again, Carlo, why are you here?”
He was quiet for a few minutes, I’m sure trying to reel in his anger.
“You scraped up your hands and arms pretty bad. When I found you, you were unconscious in a pool of blood.”
A pool of blood.
The baby.
My hand automatically went to my stomach without thinking.
