Chapter 2

That evening, I ate a small meal and followed the doctor's orders to rest early.

I was drifting off when I heard the door creak open.

Familiar footsteps. Enzo.

I didn't sit up. I kept pretending to sleep.

He stood in the doorway for a while, then said softly, "Louisa, if you're still awake, can we talk? There are some things I need to say to you."

Sophia must have already told him about the divorce.

I was afraid he'd confront me, and even more afraid he'd simply agree, coolly and without feeling.

I stayed still, feigning sleep.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard him say, "I'm sorry..."

He closed the door and left.

I lay there with my eyes open, and it took me a long time to realize that those words had been his thoughts, not spoken aloud.

I'm sorry. Again, I'm sorry.

He had forgotten our dinner plans so he could go to the airport and pick up Sophia himself.

I sat with the pregnancy report in my hands, waiting until the middle of the night.

All I got was a phone call. "I'm sorry, there's a situation at the docks. I need to handle it. Don't wait up. Get some rest."

And I, fool that I was, had worried about him. "Please be safe. I'll wait for you."

He paused. Then his voice softened. "Mm."

It was Sophia who let it slip later. There had been no trouble at the docks that night. He'd been throwing a welcome dinner for her.

During that pause, when I was telling him to be careful, did he feel even a flicker of guilt?

If he did, he wouldn't have sent away the dog we'd raised together for three years, just because Sophia said she didn't like it.

He had said, "I'm sorry, Dobby needs to go away for a while. Louisa's always been so understanding. I know you won't mind."

If he felt any guilt at all, he wouldn't have chosen to save Sophia when we were kidnapped.

All he had for me was a thought: "I'm sorry..."

When I finally came back to myself, my pillow was soaked with tears.

My hand found my stomach without thinking. "I'm sorry, baby... Mommy's so sorry..."

The next morning.

Sophia said, "I told Enzo about the divorce. He..."

Seeing her hesitate, I pressed. "What happened? Did he say something?"

A secret, shameful hope rose in my chest.

Had he refused the divorce? Did he not want to let me go?

Sophia smoothed my hair in a soothing gesture.

"Enzo was furious when he heard. He wanted to talk to you right then, but I stopped him."

"I'll keep working on him."

My heart plummeted.

I knew his anger was nothing like what I had hoped for.

But strangely, I wasn't afraid. Not even a little.

Before, his anger had terrified me, because in those moments I couldn't hear his thoughts.

I held Sophia's hand. "Thank you, Sophia."

"I've been thinking. This is between me and Enzo. I can't let you get caught in the middle."

"When he comes home, I want to talk to him myself."

The easy smile vanished from Sophia's face, replaced by worry. "But I'm worried about you. Let me talk to him a bit more first."

I shook my head. Once I made a decision, I didn't change my mind.

I asked, "Could you just let Enzo know to come home early tonight? I'm afraid if I ask him directly, he'll be too angry at me to show up."

"Of course. We're sisters. That's hardly a favor."

I felt grateful beyond words. I had lost my husband, but at least my family was still by my side.

Evening came again. I ate early and settled into the sitting room downstairs.

It was the one room everyone had to pass through to enter or leave the main house.

Even with the doors and windows shut, I still felt cold.

The house steward, Ross Moretti, brought me a blanket. "Donna, you really should go back upstairs and rest."

I shook my head, determined to wait for Enzo.

Something occurred to me. "Which estate was Dobby sent to? I want to bring him back."

Ross frowned, looking uncomfortable. "The Don had Dobby sent away for your health, Donna. I'm afraid we can't bring him back just yet."

I smiled and waved him off.

I knew his words were nothing but a clumsy excuse.

At some point, I fell asleep. When I woke, I was back in bed.

The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air. Enzo had carried me upstairs.

Just then, I heard footsteps outside the door.

I eased the door open and saw Sophia tiptoeing out.

In the hallway light, her elegant evening gown and jewelry glittered.

I said nothing. I ran to the window.

She climbed into a black sedan. A tall man stood beside the car.

Under the headlights, I recognized him instantly.

At the same moment, fragments of his thoughts reached my ears:

"The ringleaders behind this attack..." "Needed a date for the banquet. Thank God for Sophia..."

When I heard that second thought, a stabbing pain shot through my lower abdomen, exactly like the day I lost the baby.