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.
“The night they announced my engagement to Carlo, I went to my father’s study. For the first time in my life, I stood up to him and said I’d rather die than marry Carlo. He slapped me, but I didn’t back down. That’s when Pietro DeLucci played his trump card. He threatened to kill Fabiano. And I believed him. I believed him because he never loved Fabi. To him, my brother was just a stain.”
She turns her eyes to me. It crushes something in my chest.
“I took that money from you for Fabiano. So he could study what he loved. So he could have a good life.”
She sighs heavily. “Maybe I should have let my father kill him… and then ended my own life. I’ve spent years running from death, but it always catches up. If I’d died back then, I wouldn’t have to watch my baby die now.”
My pulse hammers in my neck. I grab her hand and lean closer. “Lucia, our daughter is alive.”
She shakes her head, trying to hold back tears. I pull out my phone and play the video of our daughter, holding it in front of her. She stubbornly turns her head away, refusing to look. Frustration rises in me, but I don’t push. I set the phone aside and lean in, pressing my forehead against her temple. Then I kiss the shell of her ear softly.
“She’s so tiny. Her skin is wrinkled like an old lady’s, red in some places, almost black in others. But I swear she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Her lungs are still a bit underdeveloped, but the doctor says she’ll be fine in a few weeks. Then we can bring her home. Picture it, Lucia. You, me, and our daughter. Maybe I’ll even get your brother a place nearby so he can see his niece every day.”
“Fabiano is dead,” she says, voice flat.
I lean over and gently turn her face to me, my voice firm.
“In a few minutes you’ll see your brother.”
Something shifts in her eyes, something I haven’t seen in days.
“When you see him, promise me—if I’m telling the truth and he’s alive, you’ll trust me completely from now on. You’ll forgive my mistakes and stay loyal to me for the rest of your life. Do you hear me, Lucia? In just a few minutes.”
Her chest rises and falls. Her eyes finally show a flicker of hope. She doesn’t respond, but I see the faintest flicker of emotion beneath the surface.
I press a long kiss to her forehead, my lips resting there for a moment. A knock on the door jerks me out of the moment, pulling me back to reality.
Lucia tries to sit up, but I gently press her shoulder down, my tone leaving no room for argument as I tell her to stay put. I call the nurse and leave Lucia in her care, then step into the hallway.
Rafael is standing there with the man who almost cost me my daughter’ life. He looks like a male version of Lucia—same eyes, same hair, same features, only rougher and more masculine. Half his face is swollen and bruised, nose broken. He’s wearing blue jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a black denim jacket. His eyes burn with fury.
I gesture to an empty room down the hallway and step inside first. Once the door shuts behind us, I turn to Fabiano, my voice controlled but seething.
“Let me make one thing clear. If it were up to me, I’d beat you to death right here. You’ve caused me more trouble than you can imagine, you little shit. Because of you, my daughter almost died.”
His brows knit slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I came here to see my sister.Your men grabbed me and beat the crap out of me. I haven’t seen any daughter of yours. I don’t even know who you’re talking about. Now, if you let me talk to my sister for an hour, I’ll leave and never come back.”
