LilaI barely made it two steps into the hall before the relief of seeing Luca turned into something else.Something cold.Something that made the edges of my vision go blurry.It started as a slow, dull throb in my side. Like a pulled muscle.Then it grew sharper. Hotter.I thought maybe it was just the adrenaline wearing off. Maybe I was finally letting my body feel the toll of the last few hours.But when I shifted Gabriel in my arms, something warm and wet slid down my hip, soaking into the waistband of my leggings.I stopped walking.My breath caught in my throat.“Lila?” Luca’s brow furrowed. He took a step toward me. “What’s wrong?”I looked down.There was a spreading patch of crimson staining the pale fabric.I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.“Lila?” Luca’s voice cracked. “Talk to me.”“I… ” My throat closed. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “I think…I’m bleeding.”For a second, no one moved.Then everything happened at once.Lena let out a strangled
LucaThe car was waiting at the front steps when I emerged from the house.The morning was grey and cold, a damp wind sweeping in off the coast. It matched the hollow churn in my gut.I paused for a second on the top step, gripping the railing tighter than I meant to.The driver, Marco opened the back door without a word. He didn’t look at me.I couldn’t blame him.No one liked to look too long when a man was about to go hunt down his own mother.I forced myself to move, every step a reminder that I was still weaker than I’d ever admit. The cane hit the flagstones with a dull, deliberate rhythm, like a metronome marking the seconds before everything collapsed.Once I was in the car, Marco shut the door and took his place behind the wheel.Enzo climbed into the front passenger seat. He twisted around to look at me, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses.“They were seen again,” he said without preamble.My jaw tensed.“Where?”“West, toward the coast. A rental car registered to a shell co
LilaI didn’t think I could cry anymore.My tears had run dry hours ago, or so I thought.But the second they placed him in my arms warm, tiny, impossibly perfect I started all over again.He was so much smaller than I expected.His little hands were curled into tight fists, one pressed to his rosy cheek. Dark hair stuck to his damp forehead. His skin was soft as velvet against my chest.And when he turned his face just enough to make a small, hiccupping noise, something in me broke open completely.I forgot the pain.I forgot the fear.I forgot the way my heart had nearly torn itself apart when I realized I’d be delivering him without Luca at my side.Because he was here now.And so was Luca.I looked up from the baby our, baby to find Luca watching me from the chair beside the bed.He hadn’t said much since they’d cleaned our son and tucked him against my chest.He’d just sat there, one hand braced on his cane, the other clenched so tightly on the armrest his knuckles were white.Hi
LilaThe first thing I realized when they wheeled me out of the hospital was that nothing felt normal anymore.Not the hum of the automatic doors sliding open.Not the warm breeze on my face.Not the way Luca walked beside the wheelchair, one hand resting protectively on my shoulder, as if he thought I might vanish if he let go.Everything felt raw and unfamiliar, like the world itself had shifted while we were inside those hospital walls.And maybe it had.Because nothing could ever be the same again.Gabriel was bundled in my arms, warm and impossibly small. He made a soft, hiccupping sigh, and I pressed my lips to the top of his head, breathing in that sweet, milky scent.I still couldn’t believe he was real.Luca had arranged for a black SUV to meet us at the curb. One of his men opened the back door, and Luca turned to help me in, his jaw tight with concentration.“You okay?” he asked gruffly.I nodded, though my whole body ached in ways I didn’t even have names for. My arms felt
LilaThe first thing I realized when they wheeled me out of the hospital was that nothing felt normal anymore.Not the hum of the automatic doors sliding open.Not the warm breeze on my face.Not the way Luca walked beside the wheelchair, one hand resting protectively on my shoulder, as if he thought I might vanish if he let go.Everything felt raw and unfamiliar, like the world itself had shifted while we were inside those hospital walls.And maybe it had.Because nothing could ever be the same again.Gabriel was bundled in my arms, warm and impossibly small. He made a soft, hiccupping sigh, and I pressed my lips to the top of his head, breathing in that sweet, milky scent.I still couldn’t believe he was real.Luca had arranged for a black SUV to meet us at the curb. One of his men opened the back door, and Luca turned to help me in, his jaw tight with concentration.“You okay?” he asked gruffly.I nodded, though my whole body ached in ways I didn’t even have names for. My arms felt
LilaI didn’t think I could cry anymore.My tears had run dry hours ago, or so I thought.But the second they placed him in my arms warm, tiny, impossibly perfect I started all over again.He was so much smaller than I expected.His little hands were curled into tight fists, one pressed to his rosy cheek. Dark hair stuck to his damp forehead. His skin was soft as velvet against my chest.And when he turned his face just enough to make a small, hiccupping noise, something in me broke open completely.I forgot the pain.I forgot the fear.I forgot the way my heart had nearly torn itself apart when I realized I’d be delivering him without Luca at my side.Because he was here now.And so was Luca.I looked up from the baby our, baby to find Luca watching me from the chair beside the bed.He hadn’t said much since they’d cleaned our son and tucked him against my chest.He’d just sat there, one hand braced on his cane, the other clenched so tightly on the armrest his knuckles were white.Hi