Page 102 of Forbidden Vengeance

I force myself to breathe through the pain like my Lamaze instructor taught me, mind racing through options even as my body betrays me. Through my earpiece, I hear the coordinated chaos unfolding—Siobhan’s teams engaging hostiles in the kitchen, their Irish accents sharp with urgency. DeLuca security containing the situation in the main ballroom, protecting innocent society figures from impending violence. Mario’s people trying to fight their way to my position, but meeting heavy resistance.

“They’ve got the elevators locked down,” Dante reports, real fear coloring his voice. “And their medical team is setting up in the service bay. They’re ready for immediate transport.”

Another contraction hits, stealing my breath. This one’s stronger, making my knees weak. I brace myself against the wall, trying to maintain tactical awareness but having a difficult time doing so.

“He won’t choose you,” Anthony says, moving closer like a shark scenting blood. “DeLucas always choose power over love. Even Matteo would have, if Bella hadn’t proved useful. Right now, your precious Mario is too far away. By the time he reaches us, you’ll be gone.”

But he’s wrong about DeLucas and love. Because even as another contraction tears through me, I hear the distinctive sound of Mario’s preferred weapon. He storms in, his tuxedo jacket discarded, dress shirt covered in blood that isn’t his.

His eyes meet mine across the chaos, holding a promise of protection, of love, of everything Anthony will never understand.

“Get away from them,” Mario growls, rage covering his face.

Anthony’s eyes light up as he notices my stance, the way I brace against the wall through another contraction. “Ah, perfect timing,” he says, triumph coloring his voice. “My daughter is already so punctual, wanting to meet her dear daddy.”

“She willneverknow you,” I gasp through the pain, even as fear claws up my throat at his delighted expression. “She’s not yours.”

“No?” His smile turns cruel. “In a few hours, you’ll both be safe in my private facility. Away from this corruption, these modern ideas that poison everything they touch.”

Mario’s face transforms, that DeLuca restraint crumbling completely. What follows is chaos—gunfire and shouted orders mixing with my increasingly painful contractions. I’m aware of Mario shielding my body with his own, of Anthony’s specialists falling under precise headshots. But they’re professionals, adapting quickly to our defense.

“Second team breaching through the kitchen,” Dante warns through comms. “They’ve got hospital scrubs and credentials. Watch for?—”

His voice cuts off as an explosion rocks the building. Through security feeds, I see Siobhan’s crews engaging in the main ballroom, buying us time. But Anthony’s extraction team is moving with frightening efficiency, herding us exactly where they want us.

Another contraction hits, this one actually bringing me to my knees. Mario catches me, his arms steady despite the violence around us. But I see the impossible choice in his eyes—stay with me or pursue Anthony, who’s retreating toward his waiting medical team.

“They’re setting up a perimeter,” Antonio reports. “Medical transport standing by, full surgical suite prepared. They’re ready to deliver the baby themselves.”

The realization hits through waves of pain—they never planned to wait. They’ll take me by force, perform an emergency C-section if necessary. Anything to get Anthony’s heir.

“Hospital,” I manage between contractions, seeing Mario’s internal struggle. “Now.”

“Cover the east exit,” Mario orders through comms as another contraction hits. “Dante, get that transport?—”

“Negative,” Dante cuts in urgently. “They’ve got the parking structure locked down. Medical team’s set up roadblocks, checking every vehicle.”

I grip Mario’s arm as another contraction tears through me, the pain so intense black spots dance at the edges of my vision. “Service elevator,” I gasp, fighting to stay logical even as my body betrays me. “The one they use for…for delivering supplies. Security’s lighter because…because they think we’ll go for the main exits.”

Mario’s already moving, practically carrying me as his teams engage Anthony’s forces. The world becomes a blur of gunfire and explosions, tactical gear flashing as both sides trade fire. The specialists are terrifyingly good—methodically cutting off our escape routes while maintaining enough distance to avoid civilian casualties.

“Elena!” Anthony’s voice carries over the chaos. “Think about our daughter. About giving her proper values, a real family?—”

A contraction hits so hard I scream, my knees buckling. Mario catches me, but I feel him tense at Anthony’s words, his worried face transforming into anger as the taunts hit their mark. For a moment, I think he’ll turn back, will choose revenge over protecting us.

But then Stella kicks hard, as if reminding him what matters. His arm tightens around me as we reach the service elevator, his body shielding mine from incoming fire.

“They’re in the shaft,” someone shouts. “Medical team, move to?—”

The service elevator becomes a nightmare. Mario keeps me pressed against him, one arm secure around my waist while the other fires at shadows above us. Each floor we pass brings new threats—boots thundering on metal stairs, voices coordinating positions, Anthony’s specialists trying to predict our exit point.

“Third floor team, they’re coming down!” Someone shouts above us. “Cut them off at the service bay?—”

Another contraction rips through me, and I bite my lip bloody to keep from screaming. The world narrows to pain and chaos and Mario’s steady presence behind me.

“North stairwell secured!” Siobhan’s crew leader calls through our comms, his Irish accent thick with adrenaline.

“They’re trying to flank through the kitchen,” another warns.

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