Chapter 2

Alessia

A nightmare woke me after midnight.

Matteo slept beside me, one arm stretched across the place where I had been. I slipped out from under it and stepped onto the balcony, hoping the cold air would clear my head.

I must have fallen asleep in the chair.

The next thing I knew, Matteo was lifting me into his arms.

"What are you doing out here?" he muttered. Then his expression changed. "You're burning up."

I did not have the strength to answer. He carried me inside, wrapped me in a cashmere blanket, and began pulling clothes from the wardrobe.

"I can dress myself," my voice came out blurred by fever.

He gently batted my hand away. "Hey. I've dressed you a hundred times. Don't be shy now, let me take care of you."

He dressed me quickly, carried me downstairs, and drove me to a private hospital in Manhattan.

For nearly an hour, he was the Matteo I remembered. He argued with the admitting doctor, demanded a private room, and stayed beside me while a nurse started an IV.

Then hurried footsteps sounded in the corridor.

One of his men appeared at the door. "Mr. De Luca, Serena was just brought into the emergency department. She says her stomach pain is back."

Matteo stood so quickly his chair scraped across the floor. "Where is she?"

"Next door."

He was already moving.

"Matteo." His name escaped me before I could stop it.

He froze at the door, hesitating for a split second before stepping back to the bed. "Stay here and finish the IV. The doctors will take care of you."

I watched him in silence.

Misreading my quietness, he quickly added, "Nothing is going to happen between Serena and me. I promise."

I hadn't asked him that. I hadn't asked anything at all.

Once, I would have cried and begged him to stay. I would have demanded he choose me over her.

Now, I just nodded. "All right."

My calm seemed to unsettle him more than anger would have, but he was already backing away. "I'll be back soon."

Then he was out the door.

I waited until the pain in my arm faded, then pushed my IV pole out into the hallway. Through the glass of the next room, I saw Matteo grilling the doctors, barking orders like he owned the place.

Serena lay on the bed, pale and still.

But the second Matteo turned his back, her eyes opened.

She looked straight at me through the glass. Her fragile act vanished, replaced by a smug smile as she mouthed the words: He is mine.

Maybe her pain was real, maybe it wasn't. It didn't matter. She called, and he ran to her.

I headed back to my room. Fine. She could have him.

The medication pulled me to sleep.

When I woke, a nurse was adjusting my arm in alarm. "You moved in your sleep, Miss Bellandi. Blood is backing into the line."

She reset the IV, then gave me an awkward look.

"Mr. De Luca left an hour ago. Miss Rossi hates hospitals, so he took her back to his estate."

Of course he did.

When the infusion ended, I called him. It rang so long that I almost hung up.

"Alessia?" His voice softened when I told him I was still at the hospital. "I'm sorry. I'll come get you right now."

Before he could finish, Serena's shaky whine drifted through the speaker. "Matteo... it hurts again."

A heavy silence followed.

I heard him muffle the mic to soothe her before returning to me, his voice tight. "Let my driver take you home. I'll be there later."

"It's fine. I can get home on my own."

He hesitated. "Are you angry?"

"No."

It was the truth. Anger required hope that the other person might actually change. And I just didn't have any left. Listening to him on the phone, I only felt tired.

I had spent five years believing Matteo was essential to my life.

Lying alone in that hospital bed, I finally understood that no one was.