Chapter 4

When I woke up, the doctor told me the baby had not survived.

The room in the private hospital was very quiet. Outside the window the Hudson lay gray, and the monitors beeped at even intervals.

"About nine weeks along," the doctor said. "The gunshot didn't hit the uterus directly, but the shock and the blood loss caused the miscarriage."

I stared at the ceiling and did not cry.

The doctor opened an older file.

"There was already serious damage from the accident five years ago. After this, the chance of conceiving naturally again will be lower still."

Five years ago I had lost a child too.

Dante was not Don yet then.

To find the witness Marco had bought off, I deliberately drew away the car tailing us and was hit on an overpass in Queens.

When I woke, Dante was on his knees at the side of the bed, holding my hand, crying for a long time.

He promised he would end the fighting and give me a safe home, and promised he would never let me be hurt because of him again.

I never told him that the day before the crash I had just confirmed I was pregnant.

He was preparing the most critical operation of his life. I was afraid the news would distract him.

Later the doctors told us the baby was gone. Dante stayed with me at the hospital for a full month.

Now we had lost another child.

This time he did not walk into my room until the following afternoon.

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

That was the first thing he said.

"I didn't know."

Dante stood by the bed, haggard. He reached out to touch me and I turned my face away.

"The report on the docks was right," I said.

"I know."

"If you had listened to me, they could have gotten out in time."

"You shouldn't have gone there alone either."

"So this is my fault?"

"I didn't say that."

"You're saying it right now."

Dante was quiet for a moment, and his voice went stiff.

"Lysa, you knew you had no clearance and you acted anyway. If you had stayed at the estate, none of this would have happened."

I finally turned to look at him.

"You're blaming me for saving your men?"

"I'm telling you that disobeying orders has consequences."

He paused.

"The child came at the wrong time. We are dealing with a great deal of trouble right now. At least from now on you'll remember not to act on your own judgment."

I looked at him for a long time.

Over those two weeks I had cried, I had raged, I had gone over our ten years again and again. I used to believe that as long as Dante still had a little love left in him, we could work it out.

Now I no longer needed an answer.

"Send in the lawyer," I said.

"You need rest."

"I want to cancel the wedding."

Dante's expression finally changed.

"Don't say things you don't mean, not now."

"I mean it."

I pulled off the engagement ring and set it on the bedside table.

"Dante, I am not marrying you, and I am not taking your properties or your compensation. We're finished."

He stared at the ring, and his face grew darker.

"You have no Family now, no security, not even a steady income. Where do you plan to go?"

"That's not your concern."

"You can't manage without New York."

"That's my business."

He leaned down, both hands braced on the edge of the bed.

"You'll come back. We'll talk again when you've calmed down."

"No, we won't."

Dante gave a cold laugh. He clearly did not believe me.

Three days later I left the hospital with the lawyer.

I took only my passport, a few clothes and a photograph of my mother.

Before I left New York, I sent a message to a number that had been silent for ten years.

"Withdraw all covert protection from Dante Russo. As of today the Moretti Family no longer provides him with funding, intelligence or harbor access."

The answer came back quickly.

"Understood, Miss Alexandra."

It was the first time in ten years that anyone had spoken my real name.