The Secret Billionaire Heiress Strikes Back
He was trying to breathe and the breath wasn't coming, or barely coming, each one a longer and thinner and more desperate whistle than the last.
Nonna Violetta turned from the sink, and the plate in her hands hit the floor and shattered, and she screamed.
"*Dio mio!* No — no — what is wrong, what is happening—"
"I don't know!" Rhys was already up, already had the boy out of the stool and against his chest, and the small body was rigid and clawing for air, the gray coming into the skin now, that horrible gray, the blue starting around the swollen lips. "He can't breathe, he can't — Rhysian, look at me, breathe, you have to breathe—"