Page 81 of Vicious Heir

“You can tell me anything you want.” His eyelids flutter. “Just so long as I get to hear your voice.”

“Stay with me.” I slap him lightly.

He smiles. “How’d you know I like it rough?”

“Because you’ve been inside me enough at this point that it’s pretty obvious.” I slap him again, a little harder. This time, his eyes open.

“Come on, wife. Tell me a story. Keep me distracted.”

“Alright, okay, a story.” I rack my brain, and for whatever reason, all I can come up with is the worst night of my life. “I was twelve when my dad died. I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now.”

“What happened to him?” Adriano asks.

“He was an addict. Both he and my mom used pretty heavily all my life. I understood at a really young age that they had aproblem. Grandmother tried to shelter me from it as much as she could, but they were pretty terrible. They stole from her, stole from the family, and would disappear for days and days. Dad died during one of the rare happy periods.”

Adriano takes my hand. “I’m sorry you went through that. If I could go back and protect you, I would.”

“I know you would.” I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Dad was worse at hiding his addiction than Mom was. She tried to pull it together when I was around, but Dad always slipped up. There was this one week, though, this perfect little week, where they were both keeping it together. I’m sure they were high as kites most of the time, but they were hiding it and acting like parents. We went to the movies, they took me to the zoo, we did all that sort of stuff. We watched movies at night. Dad would nod off, probably from the drugs.

“But it all changed when I woke up alone on the couch. I didn’t know where anyone was. I remember being so confused. Mom and Dad were there one second watchingFinding Nemowith me, and then they were gone and the TV was turned off. I got up and went looking for them, but the house was so quiet. I found Mom in bed, her limbs half hanging out of the sheets, snoring loudly. Her gear was right there on the nightstand. Then I found Dad in the bathroom.”

I stop talking. That image is forever seared into my brain. Dad’s skinny body, naked, sitting in a tub of tepid water, pale and dead, a needle still stuck in his arm. His mouth was hanging open. His eyes were staring at nothing.

Adriano leans into me and strokes my thigh. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re here with me.”

I realize I’m crying. I wipe my face, embarrassed. He’s the one who got shot, and here I am spilling my guts out for no reason. “He overdosed,” I say, finishing the story. “It took me a while to wake Mom up, but eventually they called the paramedics. He was gone way before they ever arrived. It’s something I think about a lot, though. How we had one last good night together. Everything felt perfect, like we were normal. And then he was gone, and nothing was the same after that. Mom spiraled into her addiction even worse, and Grandmother got stricter and more difficult, and it was like the world never recovered. It was the end of everything.”

I stop talking. Adriano kisses me lightly and brushes aside my hair. His eyes are bright, and he’s paying close attention, and I guess my pathetic story did its job at least.

“Nobody deserves that,” he says very softly. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” I try to smile for him, but it doesn’t feel right. “It just doesn’t matter anymore.”

There’s a minor commotion near the front door. I jump to my feet, heart racing, ready to fight if that’s what it takes to keep Adriano safe. Instead, Luca comes back into the room, followed by a middle-aged man with graying hair and a lean, athletic build carrying a huge backpack.

“I hear you’re nearly dying,” the man says.

“Thanks for coming, Dr. Chen.” Adriano grunts as the doctor moves the towel aside and clucks his tongue. “That good, huh?”

“You need a hospital.”

“No, I need you.” Adriano leans forward, gritting his teeth.

“You need surgery. This isn’t some minor wound.”

“I can’t do a hospital. Think of another option.”

Dr. Chen sighs and rubs his face. “I could cut you open in the bathtub.”

“Fine with me.”

“Absolutely not,” I cut in sharply.

“There’s an ambulatory operating room we could use.” Dr. Chen frowns, head tilted. “We’ll have to move you, but it’s not a hospital. I’ll bring in people I trust. But this won’t be cheap.”

“Money’s not an issue.” Adriano nods at the doctor. “Set it up.”

“Then let’s get going. I’ll make some calls. Luca, help Adriano into the car. I’ll text you the address.” Dr. Chen strides out of the room.

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