Page 164 of Safe Word

The usual set of eyes met me as I entered the hospice – the redhead receptionist who always seemed too chipper for a place like this. Her bright smile faltered the moment she noticed Paula beside me, her demeanour turning more professional, almost guarded.

‘Good afternoon,’ I greeted in Italian, my voice steady. ‘I’m here for—’

‘We know, Mr D’Angelo,’ she interrupted smoothly before I could finish. ‘We’ve been expecting you. Your father will be overjoyed.’

The polite edge and the romantic tone grated on me. I bit down hard, holding back the urge to snap.

They all believed Ezio’s pitiful sob stories, didn’t they? Whatever bullshit he’d spun about us had clearly done the trick, turning these people into his eager little allies.

‘A nurse is on her way to take a sample of your blood before we proceed,’ she continued, gesturing to a clipboard of paperwork. ‘It’s just routine. Please sign the consent form here.’

Paula tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. ‘Don’t you have any blood in storage?’ she asked, her voice calm but laced with suspicion. ‘It’s unusual that you had to call in the next of kin for something like this.’

The receptionist’s eyes cut to Paula’s bruised face. Then to me. And it felt like a blade at my throat.

I realised what it may have looked like. But, before the woman could respond, a nurse approached, her movements brisk and efficient, holding another clipboard laden with more forms.

‘Good afternoon, Mr D’Angelo, thank you for coming so quickly,’ she said with a polite nod. ‘I’ll take over from here.’

Paula wasn’t letting this go. ‘I assume you heard my question,’ she pressed, her tone firm.

I nearly spun and licked those words right off her lips – but the moment didn’t belong to that kind of madness.

The nurse paused, offering Paula a small smile that didn’t quite brighten her face. ‘Of course, Miss—?’

‘DeLuca,’ Paula supplied curtly.

‘Miss DeLuca,’ the nurse continued, her voice sweet but rehearsed. ‘Mr Ezio’s blood type – AB negative – is one of the rarest in the world. Unfortunately, in our country, we don’t have much of it. That’s why, in private facilities like ours, it’s faster to reach out to the next of kin for direct donations.’

I gave a reluctant nod, swallowing down the distaste rising in my chest. Of course, everything about Ezio’s existence had to be special, even his damn blood type.

‘Fine,’ I muttered, rolling up my sleeve. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

THIRTY

With the room too small for more than two people, I followed the nurse in. Paula waited outside, which unsettled me. I was already clinging to her and I hated that.

The chemical sting in the air was somewhat sobering, though.

The nurse worked quickly, her movements fastidious. When she was done, I grunted in acknowledgment, rolling my sleeve back down. ‘Is he awake?’

‘Yes,’ the nurse replied, her tone softening slightly. ‘He’s been asking for you, but he has company, so he isn’t as lonely.’

I jolted at the disclosure. Who the fuck could be visiting Ezio? Here, in Italy?

The walk to his room felt longer than I’d remembered. Paula walked beside me, silent – but I felt her questions.

When we reached the door, the nurse knocked lightly before pushing it open. As we stepped inside, raised voices drifted through the crack.

The words were harsh, fast, and entirely in Italian. I caught enough from the speed of it to piece together the tone: anger, frustration, and a touch of desperation, maybe.

Paula glanced at me, her brow arching in silent question. I gestured for her to follow as we stepped into the room.

The voices stopped abruptly, leaving an almost palpable tension in the air. Ezio was pulling up to sit in his bed, his bandaged wrists resting on the blanket. Standing beside him was an old man, younger than Ezio but eerily similar. Had I not known Ezio was the one in bed, I might’ve mistaken him for the same man. He had the same strong cheekbones, deep-set blue eyes, and the same Roman nose. But while Ezio’s frame had wasted away, this man stood tall, his presence as imposing as a statue carved from stone.

‘Cain,’ Ezio said, his voice lighter, a veneer of warmth sliding over the heated exchange we’d just overheard. ‘I see you’ve brought a lovely lady with you.’

I ignored the comment, my gaze shifting to the man standing beside him.