Page 53 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don

“Elio, I…” I start to say and then I cry out as Elio tumbles into my body. My arms windmill and I catch the edge of the half wall at my back, the collision with the hard surface causing a sharp pain to ricochet up my legs and into my spine.

The letter opener flies into the air and clatters to the floor.

“I’ll kill you both!” Luca screams, grabbing a fistful of Elio’s hair and pounding a fist into his face. Elio pulls away from me, trying to spare me the force of Luca’s attack.

I run into the wall again, nearly losing my balance, but catching myself at the last moment. I cling to the wall, panting, staring down at the drops of blood that are turning into a pool at my feet.

I wonder, have I injured myself badly after all?

A steady stream of Italian curses is emerging from Luca’s mouth as he struggles with Elio. Abruptly, Elio breaks free of Luca and punches him over and over in the face.

Luca stumbles back, his arms flailing, trying to catch himself. I dance away from the railing to avoid Luca’s body as he falls against the wall I was just leaning against.

I hear the children asking what is going on and Enzo’s voice receding from the fight, clearly taking the children back to the playroom. I’m confident he’ll secure them away from this chaos with the nanny.

I clench my jaw. It’s just Luca, Elio, and me now. I glance down the stairs. I could run. I might even be able to get away, but what would happen to Mateo then? What would happen to Elio?

My resolve firms as I watch Elio pace forward toward Luca, ready to deliver more punishing blows. The anger I have felt at my confinement, at the risk to my son, floods through me.

I now know what people mean when they say that they “saw red”.

My gaze falls on the letter opener on the floor right in front of me. I bend over and pick it up, watching Luca rise to his feet again. He straightens his shoulders, and lifts his fists again, clearly ready to go back to sparring with Elio.

I clench the small knife in my hand, slippery with my own blood, and I run at Luca, leaping onto his back. I see Elio’s eyes go wide when he realizes what I have done, but then all I can see is the back of Luca’s head as I hold onto his neck as tightly as I can.

Luca reels back, surprised at the extra weight on his shoulders. He claws at my arms, but some kind of preternatural strength is flooding my body.

I lift the letter opener and stab blindly, not sure if I am hurting Luca or not. I hear him roar with pain and feel a moment of vicious satisfaction singing in my veins.

Luca stumbles back a few paces, clearly disoriented. I lift my hand to stab him again, when suddenly, he wrenches my arm from his neck with a heave.

My eyes fly wide as I become weightless, launched into the air by his strength. I see Baldini family members staring down at me as I sail through space, and realize that I am falling toward the stairs which are lined with family portraits.

I cry out sharply as my body connects with the first step, the pain like a thousand knife cuts stabbing into my back.

I tumble down the stairs, the pain becoming one solid, wrenching agony compressing my nerve endings and scrambling my thoughts. The fall seems to last forever until mercifully, I fetch up against the banister and come to a stop.

I can’t breathe. I’m drowning. I hear a terrible sound and realize in a distant way that it’s the sound of me trying to suck air into my lungs.

I am staring at the ceiling, at the giant, ostentatious chandelier hanging in the front hallway. It’s hideously ugly and I hate it, but I can’t close my eyes. I can’t do anything.

“Amore!”

I manage to incline my head slightly in the direction of Elio’s voice. I give him a misty smile. My scrambled brain is making me see double, but I don’t mind. I want to see his ethereal, deadly beauty one last time before I die.

I must be dying. No one could be in this much pain and live.

“My God, Luca, what have you done?” Enzo shouts.

I hear feet clattering down the stairs.

“Call 911!” Elio screams, clutching at my hand.

I realize in a dreamy way that I can’t feel the pressure of his fingers on mine. I try to squeeze his hand, but I can’t.

I frown a little. Oh yes, I fell. I’m very hurt. I’m probably dying. I had forgotten.

“Elio, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I say to him, a tear slithering down my face. “I love you.”

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