Page 127 of King Of Order

Set off by my confession, the truth of who I was and what her father had done to my family. The realization that I had come into her life under pretense.

I did this to her.

Mauri cleared his throat. ‘So, what’s the next step?’

‘I’ll medicate her. She’ll always need someone to monitor her responses in the following days. I’ll prescribe medication to help.’

The doctor bustled around, writing a prescription. ‘Lorazepam is the remedy of choice, and she’ll only require one or two doses in pill form. We should see her symptoms improve in a few hours or weeks. The pill can often be stopped once we see a positive change. Be aware this might be confusing and frightening for her. You can support Chiara by explaining what is happening. Always try to stay calm. She can hear people near her talking, even if she is not vocal herself, so it can help to speak to her. Also, provide her with food you know she likes and is comfortable with. '

Mauri glanced at me, then at Chiara, and finally at Dr Scattizzi. ‘You’re certain we can handle this ourselves, at home? Won’t she be better off in hospital?’

‘Not necessarily. A facility might be too impersonal for what she needs. Care, encouragement, plus a safe space. Somewhere she can heal with familiar faces around her.’

‘It’s my responsibility,’ I muttered, my voice thick with guilt. ‘I did this. I have to fix it. She stays with me. I’ll take her to the family villa. Our housekeeper can help, and I’ll make sure she’s watched over.’

Chapter 26

VALERIO

Iworked fast.

Feeling like an intruder but having to do what was necessary, I went through Chiara’s closet. I added more clothes, shoes, robes, and toiletries to the overnight bag she’d packed herself the previous day.

When she’d been planning to flee from me.

I locked up her house.

Mauri helped me move her with gentle care to my car.

She followed our lead like a doll, not resisting, doing whatever we guided her to do without question.

It broke my heart to see her like this.

My woman, full of fire and passion, slumped against me in the backseat, eyes empty, dependent, and vulnerable.

I sat beside her, arms around her, nose in her wild tresses, praying.

Wishing she found her way back to us, to life, to love.

Minutes later, we were on our way to the other end of Naples.

Villa Teroso was counter-positioned from Mount Vesuvius, always hovering like a watchful sentinel.

Its beauty was stunning, but beneath that splendor was the constant reminder of its volcanic, eruptive threat, always in sight and front of mind.

Just like my war right now with Chiara’s receding soul.

I carried my woman through the grand entryway, her body still light in my arms, my steps heavy with my aching guilt.

I marched over the marble floors, which gleamed under the soft illumination filtering through the arched windows, focusing on my woman’s limp form.

My steps echoed through the house, bouncing off the high ceilings as I carried her upstairs. Where the air seemed lighter, the rooms open and airy with en suite bedrooms that caught the brine-laden sea breeze, carrying it through the house.

But even the serenity of the space couldn’t ease the knot of fear coiled in my chest.

Mrs. Venetio, our housekeeper for years, met me at the top of the staircase, her eyes flicking from me to Chiara.

Mauri, bless his soul, had called ahead and given her a sit rep.

---