Page 58 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don

“Maybe we were always star-crossed lovers,” she says in that dreamy, sing-song voice. “If so, I’ll see you on the other side, Elio.”

She tightens her grip on the knife and slits her own throat, her caramel-brown eyes widening for just a moment, before she crumples to the floor like a marionette.

“No!” I scream, racing to hold her hands, to lift her into my lap. “No,” I sob out, pulling the silky hair away from her face. I lift my hand and see that it’s sticky and red, coated in her blood. “I love you,” I manage to say. “I love you, Kate.”

I wake with a start, feeling like I’ve been running for hours.

My hair is matted to my brow with sweat, and the sheets are sticky around me. I stare around, wild-eyed, for a moment before I realize that I’m safe, and that I’m in my bed at my house.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter to myself, dipping my head down into my hands. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, shaking my head slowly as I grip my temples.

What the actual fuck was all of that about?

If I was a superstitious man, I would think that someone had cast a curse on me.

I had never had such a vivid dream ever before in my life. I look at my shaking hands, just to reassure myself that they aren’t covered in her blood, that it was just a dream.

My phone starts ringing and I feel like I jump a foot in the air at the sudden noise. “You’re unraveling at the seams, you bastard,” I say to myself with irritation, but is it any surprise?

I’ve experienced more violence, done more terrible things than almost anyone else on earth, but none of those experiences holds a candle to the emotional trauma caused by seeing Kate holding a knife to her throat or hearing her tumble down the stairs.

I died a thousand times watching her take control of that sham of a meeting by threatening to do herself harm. I am a changed man, even if it’s likely too late.

I reach for my phone with shaking fingers, and see that my mother is calling me. My heartrate rachets up instantly and I hastily press the green button to accept the call. “What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice harsh even to my own ears.

“Nothing is wrong,” my mother says reassuringly. “However, there is someone here to talk to you. I think you want to come to the hospital right away.”

“Mom, what…” I start to say, but she has already hung up. “Damn it,” I say to myself, before swinging my legs out of bed and hurrying into the bathroom.

I decide I had better take another shower since I feel like I ran a marathon and I’m drenched in sweat. There’s no telling how long I will be at the hospital before I can come home again to clean up.

My mind restlessly wonders who would have come to the hospital to see me.

Who else knows that Kate is even here in the US? I think of her parents, but then I dismiss that thought. Marco might have told them where she is by now, but they would never risk her safety or the safety of their family by showing up unannounced and without an escort.

I try to shove all my worried thoughts into a corner of my mind as I yank on jeans and a shirt. The hospital isn’t far away and I will know soon enough what is waiting for me at the hospital.

I yank a leather jacket off a hanger in my closet and call my brother as I hurry down the stairs.

“Elio,” Gabriel says, his deep and steady voice was a balm to my sensitive nerves.

“Have you heard anything from the lawyer who was working on the custody situation?”

“Not yet,” Gabriel tells me. “I’ll call the office. Something wrong?”

“Don’t know yet,” I say. I swing around the banister and hurry down the hall to my office.

I nod at my head of security who is standing by the doorway waiting for me. Ducking into the room, I use a fingerprint scanner to open the closet in the corner of the room and pull a pistol out of the gun safe inside.

Tucking the pistol into a holster under my jacket, I whirl around and slam the closet door.

“Keep me informed,” Gabriel says.

“Will do,” I say to my brother. “Gabe,” I say suddenly, halting in front of the entrance to my house. I hear a noise that indicates that my brother heard me and didn’t hang up on me. “I love you, brother.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence on the other end of the call, then Gabriel chuckles. “Fuck me, Jess won our bet,” he says.

I frown a little. “What?”

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