Page 83 of Forging Caine

Islidmylegsover the edge of the bed, and Dr. Ivan helped me stand. The IV remained in my arm, but the headache and nausea had finally passed.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I don’t want to be here.”

“Mm-hmm. I think we can take the IV out now.” He remained close while I eased myself back on the bed. Pretending he cared if I needed help. Ivan had been kind and chatty the last time I was onboard. It hadn’t felt like an act, but it had to be.

I should have met Antonio in Chicago and surprised him by hopping on the first plane that left the airport after the storm.

Ivan walked to the sink and washed his hands. Dried them. Returned to his chair and sat. All in silence.

“Did you give the meathead the syringe? Show him how to use it on a struggling woman?” I couldn’t stop myself. It could have been some side effect of whatever drug they’d given me, but with my head clearing, the rage was building in my stomach. Was my sister already dead? My niece? Sofia? Nico? A wave of cold shot through me and the world went into a spin again. I fell back onto the bed. Fiori wanted me to know they were alright, so they had to be. “Where the fuck is Antonio?”

Ivan pulled on a pair of gloves and retrieved my hand. “You’ll see him soon.”

“I liked you better the last time I was here.”

“So did I.” He pulled up the tape holding the needle.

“Why do you work for him?”

“Would it be too predictable if I said gambling debts?”

He’d told me the last time that the goons working for Fiori were good guys after you lost a few rounds of cards to them. Maybe there was a shred of truth in his words. It was eerily similar to the line Johann had used as his cover for winding up working for Giovanni. I chuckled, a weak sound. “Any chance you’re an undercover Interpol agent?”

“Sadly, no.” He pulled out the needle and pressed a cotton ball to the inside of my elbow. “Just a man who made a lot of bad choices.”

Exactly what Jimmy had said. One bad choice led to another and another until he was stuck working for… who? It had to be part of Fiori’s organization.

“And you can’t get out?”

He checked under the cotton ball and reapplied the pressure. “Considering my options, this is as good a place as any.”

Everything in life came down to choices. Good ones and bad ones. But more importantly, it came down to how you reacted after you’d made that choice. Make a good one, keep making them. That’s what Antonio used to tell me—enough times I started believing I could good-choice my way out of a life that wasn’t as perfect as I’d let on. But if you made a bad one, follow it up with something better.

Ivan checked the needle site one last time and covered it with a bandage. “Good as new.”

His kind eyes weren’t those of someone who belonged here.

“There are options, Ivan. I can help—”

A knock came at the door and Jason peeked his head in. “Is she ready to see the signore?”

“Should be.” Ivan stood from his wheeled chair and moved it away from my bed. He held out a hand to me. “How do you feel? Well enough to make your way upstairs?”

I’d pretended to be weak—physically and intellectually—around these men to hide my position of strength. Considering they went after me as fast as they went after Antonio, they’d seen right through it. Unfortunately, all I felt was weakness. Sluggish reaction time. Nausea bubbling in my stomach when I turned too fast. No way was I letting them know. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jason escorted me through a few short hallways and staircases. I peppered him with questions the whole way. Where were we? How was Antonio? Where were we going? Why did they drug me? But he did little more than grunt.

I kept my eyes on the floor ahead of me, fingers trailing along the walls when I needed the support. The more I moved, the better I felt. Sitting still had never been my forte.

We climbed one final staircase leading to an upper deck and a hot tub. The salty air and cool evening breeze were a relief after being cooped up all day.

“Bella!”

I spun to see Antonio on the other side of the stairs and raced around the railing to grab him. By the time I reached him, the world was spinning again, so I held on tighter.You’re supposed to be showing strength, Sam. Fuck it. He was okay. I pulled back, scanning every visible inch of skin, not finding any of the bruises Ivan mentioned. They must have been under his clothes. “You’re alright?”

“You’re—” He cut off and pulled me against his chest. “I was so worried.”

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