Page 45 of Dark Truths

He takes a deep breath and exhales it hard through his nose, his nostrils flaring from the force. “Your brother will be here soon, but—”

“Then you should go.”

“Gabriella,” he growls out my name. “Stop interrupting me or I’ll take you over my knee and remind you of a thing called manners.”

I purse my lips and lean back into the chair, gripping his jacket tighter around me, enjoying the way his smell settles over me.

“But I’m not leaving you alone. Not again.”

My heart pangs at the memory of the child we lost, and how he couldn’t be there with me. But he’s saying he’s not leaving now. Even knowing my brother and dad are on their way. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Will you tell me what happened? Why was Rosaleen O’Leary at your brother’s penthouse?” he asks.

“Because she’s the girl my brother’s been looking for since January.”

Dimitri’s eyes widen slightly, telling me he heard something about that. “That’s her?” I nod. “And the baby?”

“Their son, Liam.”

Dimitri sits back, releasing a hard breath, as he runs a hand through his hair. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“How? I thought he was sterile.”

I shrug, not even sure where to begin…except the beginning. “When she found out she was pregnant, she knew that the only way to save herself and her baby was to run. So she did.”

“The wedding.”

“Yeah. She used the wedding as a distraction to escape. With the help of a really smart and rich friend, she settled down in Italy with a fake identity and started a new life. But her father found her and when he learned she had a baby, he sold her into a trafficking ring. Because…”

“Of Igor,” he finishes, before he looks away at a distant wall, but it's not the pale yellow wall he's seeing.

And it occurs to me that he may know something.

“Dimitri?" His eyes don't move. "I need to ask you something, and I need you to please be honest with me.” The plea in my toneis enough for him to meet my waiting eyes. “Did you know about this? About Igor and Patrick?”

He shakes his head, his eyes never looking away from mine. “No. I’ve heard nothing about this. I promise you.”

A feeling of relief settles over me. I believe him.

The doors to the emergency room open and a man walks out in green scrubs and a surgery cap.

“Ms. DiAngelo?” he calls out, peering around the room.

I jump to my feet right away. “That’s me.”

As he walks toward me, I study his facial expressions and try hard to decipher them. Does he look happy? Relieved? Sad? Or upset?

Dimitri stands behind me, close enough that I feel his presence and know he’s there in case the doctor delivers bad news.

“How is he?” I ask right away.

“He’s in surgery still. He lost quite a bit of blood, but he’s stable,” the doctor answers.

I release a sigh of relief. He’s not out of the woods, but he’s not dead either, and that’s a win in my book.

“I need to get back in there, but I’ll send a nurse if anything changes.”

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