Page 8 of Freed
But it is. I know it is because of what Lorenzo did to me.
The doctor speaks again, gently. “You’ll need rest. Monitoring. We’ll run more tests to ensure the pregnancy wasn’t affected by the sedatives.”
I barely hear him.
Because all I can think is that someone didn’t just want to start a war over me. They wanted to start it over Lorenzo’s child.
“Doctor, I believe Birdie is feeling overwhelmed. Give us a moment.”
The man leaves and then Dante squats in front of the chair I’m in.
“I take it this wasn’t planned?”
“Not at all.” My chin wobbles. “This isn’t good, is it?”
Dante studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
“No,” he says finally. “This is not good.”
My stomach drops. I curl my fingers into the arms of the chair like I might fall out of it.
“For the baby?”
“For everyone,” he corrects gently. He shifts closer, lowering his voice even though we’re alone. “If what I suspect is true, this wasn’t about hurting you.”
My breath comes shallow. “Then what was it?”
“They moved you,” he says, eyes sharp now. “Across borders. Across rival territory. They made sure you’d be found alive. That tells me this wasn’t meant to end quietly.”
A chill crawls up my spine.
“They wanted the truth discovered,” he continues. “They wanted you frightened. Isolated. And now—” his gaze flicks briefly but respectfully to my stomach “—now they’ve ensured there’s no clean way out.”
I swallow hard. “You think they knew? How? I didn’t even know!”
Dante doesn’t hesitate. “I think someone suspected. And gambled.”
The room feels too small.
“What happens now?”
He straightens slightly, but his voice stays low, steady. “Now you are no longer just Lorenzo Conti’s weakness.”
That word—weakness—stings, even if I understand it.
“You’re leverage,” he says. “And leverage gets protected… or destroyed.”
My vision blurs. “I never wanted this. Any of it.”
“I believe you,” he says, and for the first time there’s something like sympathy in his eyes. “But intention doesn’t matter much in our world.”
“Is Lorenzo in danger?”
Dante exhales slowly. “A Made Man is always in danger. But this is different. This is something that could bring down his empire.”
The words settle over me like ash.
For a fleeting, reckless second, I picture Lorenzo finding out. I imagine his face when I tell him—shock first, then that dark, lethal focus sharpening in his eyes. I can almost hear his voice, low and fierce, promising protection, promising that no one would touch me or our child as long as he draws breath.
