Page 132 of The Christmas Wife

"Yeah," Damian drawls. "You hit Liam, who decked you. They hauled you into another ambulance, brought you here. You were lucky that you didn't fracture that finger again, though you’re going to have to wear that splint for a while longer."

Right!

"And my mother?"

"She’s fine," Damian replies.

"She had a?—"

"She didn’t," He shakes his head.

"What?" I scowl, "She had a cardiac arrest."

"She didn’t."

"I don’t understand." I scowl.

"She had symptoms resembling a cardiac arrest, but your CPR saved her. But it wasn’t a cardiac arrest."

"You are not making any sense."

"She was poisoned."

"What?" I shake my head. "How did that happen?"

"They are trying to find out."

"The food we ate." I rub the back of my neck "The rest of us are fine?"

"Everyone else is, as far as I know," Damian confirms.

"She was targeted," Arpad offers.

"Do they know who did it?" I glance between them. The two men exchange glances.

"What are you thinking?" I growl.

Damian glances down at me, "Who has a vendetta against the Seven?"

"The Mafia," I breathe.

Arpad’s features harden; he doesn’t comment.

"Fucking asspricks." My stomach churns. Sweat beads my forehead. "They changed our lives… Traumatized us. Hell, I thought I’d gotten over my bloody trigger…but fucking-fuck… I froze when I saw my mother’s watch."

"We heard," Damian replies, his tone quiet.

"I couldn’t help her." A ball of emotion closes my throat.

"From what we heard, you gave her CPR, which saved her life."

"I didn’t do enough." I rake my fingers through my hair.

"Aren’t you hearing what we’re trying to tell you, asshole? It wasn’t your fault."

"Right," I draw in a breath, "I get it." I swing my legs over the side. "I need to go see her,"

Arpad stops me with an arm on my shoulder. "She doesn’t want to see you."

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