Page 37 of Forbidden Vengeance

My throat tightens. Bella would come immediately, dropping everything to be here. But she’d bring Matteo’s protectivefury with her, and then would come the questions—about the envelope, about the note mentioning Sophia.

Questions I’m not ready to answer. Questions that could get us all killed.

As for my biological family…I cut them off years ago. They’re dead to me, just like I’m dead to them. The nurse’s suggestion about contacting them almost makes me laugh. They wouldn’t come anyway.

“No,” I manage. “There’s no one to call.”

The lie tastes bitter, but it’s safer than the truth. Safer than admitting I’m carrying Anthony Calabrese’s child while sleeping with his enemy. Safer than explaining why someone might want to send me anthrax in the first place.

The nurse’s expression holds pity as she notes “No family contacts” in my chart. If she only knew that my real family is too dangerous to involve. That the people I love most are the ones I have to protect by staying away.

My hand drifts to my stomach. Somewhere inside me, a child grows—a child who might already be in danger because of my choices, my games, my lies. Tears slip down my cheeks before I can stop them.

For the first time since I started playing this dangerous game, I feel truly alone.

My solitude lasts exactly twenty-eight minutes before Bella bursts through the door like an avenging angel, Matteo’s tall frame filling the space behind her. My heart plummets.

Of course HIPAA means nothing when your best friend is married to one of New York’s most powerful men.

“Elena!” Bella rushes forward, her face pale with worry. “Why didn’t you call me? Are you okay? Have the test results?—”

“Don’t.” Matteo’s command stops her inches from my bed. His eyes never leave my face, cold and calculating. “Step back,piccola. We don’t know if it’s anthrax yet.”

“I feel fine,” I say quickly, hating how my voice shakes. “No symptoms. It’s probably nothing?—”

“Anthrax symptoms can develop over days.” Matteo’s tone is icy. “Sometimes weeks.”

Bella wrings her hands, and guilt churns in my stomach. “The doctors are running tests,” I tell her. “But really, I’m okay.”

“WhatIwant to know,” Matteo cuts in, moving to stand at the foot of my bed, “is why someone would target my wife’s best friend with a biological weapon.”

The question hangs heavy in the air. I force myself to meet his gaze. “I don’t know.”

“No?” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Then perhaps you can explain how they got past your building’s security. Or why you didn’t immediately call us when you arrived at the hospital.”

“I didn’t want to worry anyone?—”

“Bullshit.” The word cracks like a whip. “You’re hiding something, Elena. The only question is what.”

“Matteo,” Bella warns, but he continues.

“First the disappearing acts. Then the missed calls. Now this?” He leans forward, his hands gripping the bed rail. “What game are you playing?”

My heart pounds so loud I’m sure he can hear it. “No game,” I manage. “I was just…scared.”

“Elena.” Bella’s voice is soft, hurt. “We’re family. You should have called us.”

Family. The word feels like a knife twisting in my chest. If they knew about Mario, about the baby, about all my lies…

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and at least that’s not a lie. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Matteo studies me for a long moment. “Antonio,” he calls, and his captain materializes in the doorway. “Post guards. No one in or out without my approval.”

“That’s not necessary—” I start, panic rising.

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” Matteo’s tone brooks no argument. “Someone targeted you, which means they targeted my family. Until we know why, you don’t leave our sight.”

The words feel like a prison sentence. Or a death warrant, if Mario tries to come to me now.

---