Chapter 6

After three days of fever, I finally woke clearheaded on the fourth morning.

The guards were gone. A maid brought a black dress for Gia's family recognition ceremony, where the Five Families would watch her enter the official Valenti register.

I had no reason to be there, but Alessia insisted that a family should not remain divided by a “past misunderstanding.” For the sake of appearances between the Valentis and Donatis, Salvatore ordered me to attend.

I agreed. Only three days remained before he sent me away. This would be my last performance of harmony.

The century-old chapel had armed guards at every entrance. In the glass reception hall behind it, champagne towers and lavish gifts glittered beneath the lights.

Salvatore carried Gia among the guests.

“She has the Donati eyes.”

“Surviving the poison proves she has Valenti strength.”

“Once her brother is born, no one will challenge this alliance again.”

I watched as they defined a baby through blood, power, and succession. Gia was innocent; the adults choosing in her name were the cruel ones.

After the blessing, Salvatore opened a velvet box containing the diamond-and-emerald ring worn by generations of Valenti matriarchs.

“Alessia gave this family a healthy child and now carries its next heir,” Salvatore announced. “She deserves the proper respect.”

The hall fell silent.

Nico regarded the ring before removing it from the box. He took Alessia's left hand and slid it onto her ring finger.

“You did well,” he said, not intimately, but with unmistakable warmth.

Cameras flashed as Alessia leaned into him and Gia was placed between them. Applause rose for their flawless family and the Valenti-Donati alliance.

I stood outside the circle.

Once, Nico had taken my hand before a room of made men and declared, “Tessa is the woman I chose. Humiliate her, and you challenge me.”

Now he had placed the Valenti matriarch's ring on someone else, while even my grief seemed improper.

Alessia approached with champagne, the ring bright on her hand. “Tessa, let's take a photograph together.”

“No, thank you.”

“It's only a picture.” Without waiting, she linked her arm through mine and drew me toward the center of the hall.

The photographer stood beneath an enormous brass-and-crystal Valenti crest mounted high above the former bosses' weapons.

Alessia tightened her fingers around my wrist. “Nico sits with me when I can't sleep and keeps his hand on my stomach until the baby settles. Are you still waiting for him to take you away?”

I closed my eyes briefly. “Think whatever you like.”

Three days. I loosened her fingers from my wrist. I could get through one photograph without giving them a reason to lock me up again.

The photographer raised his camera. “Look this way.”

The flash went off as metal shrieked overhead. Several bolts tore loose at once, and the massive brass crest tipped from the wall.

“Tessa!” Nico lunged from several feet away, seized my arm, and dragged me against him. The crest scraped my back and crashed to the floor, black crystal exploding across the marble. He covered my head with his body.

When the impact ended, he checked me at once. “Are you hurt?”

Before I could answer, Alessia screamed. A metal brace had struck her abdomen, and crystal had sliced deep into her thigh. Blood flooded her dress.

“Nico, the baby,” she gasped, curling around her stomach. “Save our baby.”

He released me and lifted her. For the first time, panic broke through his control. “The doctor is coming. Keep looking at me.”

He carried her out. I moved away from the broken glass and followed the others to the medical center. Gia was crying in a guard's arms. I hoped her mother would survive.

At the Valenti medical center, surgeons prepared Alessia for emergency treatment. The blow threatened the pregnancy, and glass had severed a major vessel in her thigh.

Nico paced outside the operating room with her blood covering his shirt.

I sat against the wall, pressing a hand to my aching ribs.

The surgeon hurried through the doors. “Mr. Valenti, Miss Donati is hemorrhaging and the fetus is showing signs of oxygen deprivation. Our O-negative supply was used after the recent attack. The next shipment is forty minutes away.”

Nico rolled up his sleeve. “Take mine.”

“You're A-positive.” The doctor's gaze shifted to me. “Miss Mercer is O-negative, but she recently lost blood and suffered a serious infection. Her hemoglobin is too low for donation.”

Nico turned. I understood before he spoke.

“No.”

He came toward me. “This isn't the time for a tantrum.”

“The doctor said my body cannot tolerate it.”

“Alessia and the child may die.” His quiet voice carried an order.

“Blood will arrive in forty minutes.”

“They don't have forty minutes.” He seized my wrist. “If I hadn't saved you first, she would not have been hit. You owe her.”

I looked down at his hand around my wrist. He had pulled me clear of the falling crest. Now he was using that rescue to demand my blood.

“I didn't cause this. And I said no.”

His expression stiffened.

“Is giving a little blood truly so difficult?” Disappointment replaced his fear. “You weren't like this before.”

I had stayed awake for three days to save his life. He knew what I was willing to do for a patient. He had also heard the doctor say I was too weak.

“I need to recover,” I said. “Let go of me.”

An alarm sounded inside the operating room. “Her pressure is falling,” the doctor warned. “If we wait, we may lose them both.”

Nico's hesitation vanished. He looked at two guards. “Take her to the collection room.”

I fought them. “You have no right!”

“Save them first. We will discuss the rest later.”

The guards pinned me to a chair while a nurse inserted the needle. Dark blood flowed into the bag. Beyond the glass, Nico kept his back to me and watched the operating room.

When the first bag filled, the doctor checked the monitor. “We must stop. Her pressure is dropping, and the infection has not resolved. More could send her into shock.”

“How much does Alessia need?”

“At least half another bag. The supply is already on its way.”

After two seconds, Nico said, “Continue.”

My vision blurred. I tried to pull my arm away, but the guard held it still. Nico had heard both warnings. He had given the order anyway.

Cold spread from my hands toward my chest. In the darkening room, I saw the stormy night when Nico placed his card in my lab coat.

“Nico Valenti. I'll be back tomorrow.”

I could never have imagined that one day he would order men to drain my blood for another woman and their child.

Darkness closed over me.

When I woke, Nico sat across the hospital room. He did not hold my hand or show relief. An access log and several photographs lay before him.

Two guards stood at the door, watching me instead of the corridor.

Three days remained before my flight. I had to get out of this room.

His first words were, “Did you sabotage the crest?”