He’s staring down at me, utterly still.
His face is unreadable. I can’t tell if it’s rage or disgust or something else entirely. His stillness terrifies me more than anger would. Agnello Montoni used to go quiet like this right before he exploded.
I’m shaking so hard my teeth are chattering. My hands are fisted in his jacket, and as I’m looking up at him, I realize I’m waiting for him to hit me. To shove me away. To do something violent and cruel, the way his father would have.
Instead, he seizes my arms.
I flinch, bracing for pain.
“Mina.” His voice is sharp. “No.Stop.”
I can’t stop. The words keep spilling out, a desperate flood of apologies and pleas and promises I’ll never be able to keep.
“Please help Leon, please don’t walk out and—”
“Mina.” His grip tightens on my arms, forcing me to look at him. “That’s not what I meant.”
I blink up at him, uncomprehending. My brain is moving too slowly. I haven’t slept in days. I don’t understand what’s happening.
“I meant we are not doing thishere.” His voice is low and fierce. “Not in this place.”
He looks around the ward again, and this time I see the expression on his face clearly. It’s not rage.
It’s disgust.
“This hospital is a disgrace,” he says. “The conditions are unacceptable. The staff are overwhelmed or downright rude. Your son—” He stops. Swallows. “Ourson is lying in a room with screaming children and old equipment, and that call button hasn’t been answered since I came in here. And you.” His jaw flexes. “Look at what this place has done to you.”
I stare at him, still not understanding.
“Leon deserves better than this, and so do you.” His amber eyes meet mine, blazing with something I can’t name. “Let me make some calls. I can have him transferred to a private hospital within the hour. The best pediatric specialists in the country. A private room. Around-the-clock care. And I’ll get tested. I’ll have the blood test as soon as you and Leon are safe.”
The words wash over me, but they don’t make sense. He’s not leaving. He’s not taking Leon away from me.
“You’re going to help him?” My voice comes out small and broken.
Something flickers across Cristiano’s face. For a moment, he looks almost hurt.
“He’s my son, Mina.” His voice is rough. “Did you really think I would let him die?”
The question hangs in the air between us.
Did you really think I was that much of a monster?
Yes, I did think that. That’s why I hid Leon for four years. That’s why I ran. That’s why I’ve been lying every single day since the moment I found out I was pregnant.
Because I look at Cristiano Montoni and see violence and obsession and cold, calculating cruelty. A man who would cage me and control me and raise our son to be just like him.
I had to protect Leon.
Cristiano’s hands are still gripping my arms, holding me upright. I don’t know when I started leaning into him, but I’m too tired to pull away.
“I’m going to make some calls,” he says quietly. “I need you to sit down before you collapse. Can you do that for me?”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I can do anything.
He guides me to the plastic chair, easing me down like I’m made of glass. Then he pulls out his phone and steps away into the hall, already tapping the screen.
I sit there, shaking, and I watch him through the open door. His voice is low and clipped, full of quiet authority. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I can feel the effect it must be having. Whoever’s on the other end of that call will be jumping to obey Don Cristiano Montoni.
