Page 71 of Forbidden Vengeance

My breath catches at the sight of him. Those blue-gray eyes are pure ice, promising revenge. For the first time, I truly understand why men fear him—why even Mario speaks of his brother’s rage with grudging respect.

“Give me one reason,” he says softly, that deadly quiet tone sending chills down my spine, “why I shouldn’t have you shot where you stand. After what you and my brother have done.”

“Because I know things about this hospital your men don’t,” I respond, lifting my chin even as fear makes my heart race. “Which doctors are compromised. Which nurses report to rival families. And right now, your wife and children need every advantage they can get.”

“You want to talk about advantages?” Bianca’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade. She emerges from behind her father, still a Mafia princess despite her obvious exhaustion.Dark circles ring her eyes, but her fury burns bright enough to scorch. “Like how you used your position to spy on us? How you betrayed Bella’s trust while pretending to be her friend?”

I force myself not to flinch at the raw hatred in those blue-gray eyes—so like Matteo’s, but the same shape as Mario’s. “Bianca?—”

“Don’t.” Her hand twitches toward her hip where I know she carries a gun—a habit she started after Mario’s reappearance nearly a year ago. The gesture holds a promise of violence that makes my throat constrict. “Don’t youdareact like we mean anything to you. Not after what you andhedid.”

“You’re right.” I keep my voice steady despite my pounding heart. “I betrayed your trust.Allof you. But right now, Bella needs every ally she can get. Even ones you hate.”

“She’s not wrong.” Antonio materializes from the shadows, his usual stoic expression troubled. “Three different families have tried placing people on staff since Mrs. DeLuca was admitted. The Rossettis alone?—”

“I don’t give afuckabout rival families right now!” Bianca’s voice cracks with rage, her hands trembling with barely contained fury. The perfect DeLuca composure fractures as she advances on me. “I care about the woman who’s been feeding information to the monster who held me at gunpoint. Who chose him over us. OverBella.”

“Then care about this,” I cut in sharply. “Dr. Marcus Hansen—Bella’s current ob-gyn? He has gambling debts to the Vituccis. The charge nurse on the maternity ward reports to the Calabreses. And the anesthesiologist on call? His brother disappeared three months ago. The Rossettis are holding him as leverage.”

I watch Matteo process this information, that brilliant tactical mind working behind his carefully blank expression. Hishead tilts slightly—a gesture I’ve seen a thousand times when he’s evaluating a threat.

“You have proof?” he asks finally, skepticism warring with necessity in his voice.

“Everything’s on my phone. Staff schedules, financial records, proof of compromised personnel. It’s yours—along with my network of trusted contacts who can replace them. All I’m asking is a chance to help. One last time,” I say as I fumble for my phone.

Relief courses through me as I pull up the files. Just let me do this one thing right.

The silence stretches like a wire about to snap. Finally, Matteo speaks into his comm: “Get me new staff. Full background checks. Use Ms. Santiago’s information to?—”

“Dad, you can’t trust her!” Bianca’s voice cracks with fury and fear. She stares at her father with wide eyes, looking suddenly young and vulnerable. “After everything she’s done?—”

“No.” Matteo’s eyes never leave my face, cold and assessing. “But right now, your stepmother and siblings need every advantage. Even dangerous ones.”

He steps closer, close enough that I catch the familiar scent of his cologne—the same one he’s worn since I first met him. His stubble is more pronounced than usual, evidence of hours spent worrying. “But understand this: the moment this is over, if I ever see you near my family again…”

He doesn’t finish the threat. He doesn’t need to.

I nod once, sharply. “Understood.”

What follows is a carefully choreographed dance. I work through Antonio, never getting close enough to actually see Bella. My phone becomes command central as I coordinate replacements.

“Dr. Sarah Chen is clean,” I tell Antonio. “Harvard trained, no family connections, and she specializes in high-risk multiples. Get her here now.”

“The Vituccis have someone in radiology,” he reports back twenty minutes later.

“Use Marcus Thompson instead—he’s on call at Presbyterian. His wife just had twins last year, he’ll understand the urgency.”

Every person who comes near the DeLuca family gets triple-vetted. I check credentials, financial records, family connections. One nurse gets pulled when I discover her cousin works for the Calabreses. An orderly is replaced after I find suspicious deposits in his account.

“The anesthesiologist from Mount Sinai Brooklyn,” I tell Matteo’s captain. “He’s clean and he’s the best with compromised patients. I’ll have him here in thirty minutes.”

Hours pass in a blur of coordination and careful maneuvering. Then finally, my phone buzzes with the update I’ve been praying for:Twins delivered safely. Boy 4lbs 2oz, girl 3lbs 11oz. Mother stable.

My knees nearly buckle with relief. I find an empty waiting area, needing a moment to process. My hand drifts to my own stomach, to my daughter who will never know her cousins. Who will never play with Bella’s children or hear them called family.

More family lost to choices I can’t take back.

Another text:They’re naming them Giovanni and Arianna. Both breathing on their own. Father hasn’t left their side.

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