Chapter 13 - THE PRICE OF WALKING AWAY
Matteo survived.
The bullet entered beneath his ribs and exited without striking anything vital.
For once, luck favored him.
I arrived at the hospital before surgery ended.
The irony was not lost on me.
Weeks earlier, I had planned to disappear while he was on a honeymoon with another woman.
Now I sat beneath fluorescent lights waiting to learn whether the father of my child would wake up.
Love is cruel that way.
It does not always disappear when respect does.
Sometimes you have to decide what to do with the pieces separately.
Adrian sat across from me.
Luca had been arrested alive.
The agent survived too.
Harper entered protective custody after giving investigators the recording.
Pierce, my Boston attorney, was arrested at an airport in Montreal.
The Bellini network collapsed quickly once everyone realized Luca could no longer protect them.
At 4:12 a.m., a surgeon approached.
“He’s awake.”
I closed my eyes.
Adrian smiled faintly.
“Go.”
I found Matteo pale and furious at the machines attached to him.
“You came.”
“Don’t make it romantic.”
He almost smiled.
Then he looked at my stomach.
“The baby?”
“Fine.”
His eyes closed briefly.
“Good.”
I sat beside him.
For a while neither of us spoke.
Then Matteo said:
“I signed the cooperation agreement.”
“I know.”
“I’m surrendering controlling interest in the clubs, warehouses, logistics companies—everything investigators identify as connected.”
“And the legitimate businesses?”
“A trust.”
I stiffened.
He noticed.
“Not yours.”
“Good.”
“For the baby. Controlled by independent trustees.”
I studied him.
“Why?”
“So our child never has to become me.”
That was the first thing he had said in years that sounded like fatherhood instead of dynasty.
Then he looked at me.
“I’m not asking you to stay.”
I swallowed.
“Good.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Also good.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I’m asking whether I can be there when the baby is born.”
That question hurt more than demands would have.
Because Matteo had finally understood he no longer had automatic access to me.
“You can.”
His eyes filled slightly.
“But,” I continued, “being a father does not make you my husband again.”
“I know.”
“If we ever rebuild anything, it starts from zero.”
He nodded.
“No women.”
“Yes.”
“No burner phones hidden from me.”
“Yes.”
“No men following me without my permission.”
“Yes.”
“No threats when I say no.”
His jaw tightened.
Then:
“Yes.”
“And therapy.”
He stared at me.
I almost laughed.
“You can face federal prosecutors but not a therapist?”
“I didn’t say no.”
“Say yes.”
Matteo looked like I had asked him to surrender another empire.
Then he whispered:
“Yes.”
I stood.
Before leaving, I looked back.
“You know what the worst part was?”
“Harper?”
“No.”
He waited.
“The fact that you thought I would always forgive you.”
His face broke.
I continued.
“You mistook love for an unlimited number of chances.”
He closed his eyes.
“I know.”
Then the heart monitor changed rhythm.
Fast.
Too fast.
A nurse rushed in.
Then another.
Matteo’s face went pale.
The cardiac mutation.
May you like
The one his father had hidden.
And suddenly the bullet was no longer the thing threatening his life.
