Page 148 of Righteous Enforcer
"How long?" My voice sounds like broken glass.
"Three days.”
Three days. The war with the Bratva could be over by now. Is Ivan dead? What about Alessandro? Does he know I'm here? What does he plan to do with me now?
Dr. Russo checks my vitals, making notes on a chart. "You'll need rest, but you should make a full recovery."
I’m grateful to be alive, but I’m not thrilled to be back in a world in which uncertainty rules my life.
"The family," I whisper, unable to form a complete question.
Dr. Russo's expression gives nothing away. "Mr. Dante has been quite concerned about your recovery."
I close my eyes against sudden tears. I'm alive, but I'm still trapped. The Dantes know what I am now. The truth I've been running from for years has finally caught up to me, and I have no more strength to flee.
The door opens, and my heart nearly stops as Adriano steps inside. He looks exhausted. There are shadows beneath his eyes, stubble darker than usual along his jaw. But seeing him standing there, whole and alive, makes me forget the pain throbbing at my temple.
"Eva." Just my name on his lips sends a wave of longing through me.
Dr. Russo quietly excuses himself, closing the door behind him.
"You're alive," I whisper, searching Adriano's face for any hint of what he's thinking. Is this tenderness in his eyes real, or am I seeing what I desperately want to see?
He approaches slowly, settling into the chair beside my bed. "So are you."
I'm acutely aware of how precarious my situation remains. The Dante family might be providing excellent care, but I'm not naive. I've seen Mafia and Bratva men nursed back to health just so they could fully experience the punishment that awaited them.
"Mirabella?" I ask.
"She's perfect. Misses her mom." His eyes soften. "She'll be thrilled to know you're awake."
Hope blooms dangerously in my chest. "You'll let me see her?"
Adriano reaches for my hand, his touch hesitant. "Of course."
I can't help the tears that spill down my cheeks. "I thought?—"
"We need to talk about that." His expression grows serious, but he doesn't pull his hand away. "But not now. You need to heal first."
Is this mercy or merely postponement? I'm afraid to trust the warmth in his gaze, afraid to believe I might still have a future with him and our daughter.
But I’ve postponed this discussion for too long. It has to stop. Whatever happens, I’m ready, just as I was ready when I stopped Ivan from killing Adriano.
I take a shuddering breath and then begin. "I never wanted to spy for the Bratva.”
“You don’t have to do this now?—”
“I do,” I insist, and the vehemence with which I speak makes my head hurt even more. But I don’t care. “Five years ago, my father owed them money. More than he could ever repay. Maksim Vasiliev gave him a choice—die slowly or convince me to gather information on the Dante family."
Adriano's hand tightens around mine, but his expression remains unreadable.
"The night I met you at that charity gala, I never expected—" My voice cracks. "I never expected you. The way you looked at me like I was something precious, not just a tool to be used."
His face hardens. "So I was a mark?"
"No!" I reach for his hand, needing him to know that wasn't the plan at all. "No. Falling in love with you was not the plan. I tried not to because I knew it would look like that if it came out… "
Memories flood back. Our first date, first kiss, the way he protected me from the crueler aspects of his world.
