Page 107 of The Don's Secret Heir

“You couldn’t have imagined it would go down like it did. It’s not your fault.”

He scoffs and looks away from me.

I reach over to grab his hand, pulling it into my lap and squeezing it.

“Dario. It’s not your fault.”

He lets out a long breath and wipes at his eyes. He’s been so kind to me since I woke up, so... soft. It reminds me of when we first started seeing each other, how attentive he was then.

Giovanni knocks lightly on the door and my son tackles me. I make a sound in the back of my throat, grunting and laughing as I hold him close.

He kisses all along my face. “Mama! I knew you would wake up! Didn’t I tell you, Uncle Giovanni?”

“He did. Tells me every day his Mama is going to wake up,” Giovanni says with a smile.

My chest aches. Oh, my poor boy. Waiting nearly a week for Mama to wake up.

“And I was right!” he chirps, hugging me tightly.

“You were right,” I say softly, hugging him back.

Sonny reluctantly lets me go when Giovani offers him a trip to the gift shop to get me a balloon.

“I’ll get you the biggest one, Mama,” Sonny tells me as he leaves the hospital room, and I smile and wave at him.

“You two are good with him,” I have to admit, and Dario grins.

“We just did the best we could. It was mostly Giovanni, if I’m honest. I was kind of... a mess.”

“Because you thought I was...”

“They told me you might not wake up,” he says flatly, and I reach out for his hand again. He interlinks his fingers with mine.

“I did wake up.”

“Thank God. Li, tell me you won’t leave. That you won’t have the marriage annulled.”

“I thought that was always the plan,” I say hesitantly. I don’t want to have it annulled anymore, if I ever did.

But God, what does that say about me? I remember the pocket watch, possibly identical to the one my father had. Had Dario killed him?

“Not now,” Dario insists. “Please, move back in with me. Get settled. Get better.”

I nod slowly. It’s not really like I have any other choice. Beth is my only other support and now she’s gone.

I feel this hole in me when I think about her. Like something was there but now it’s missing and I can’t quite remember how it felt when it was full.

It’s infuriating. I wish I could just forget. All of it.

I sit up and Dario helps me, fluffing the pillow behind me. He brushes my hair back from my face.

“You won’t leave?” he asks again, and I smile.

“I won’t leave. Where else would I go?”

He doesn’t answer, just drawing my knuckles to his lips.

They don’t discharge me for two days, and poor Dario keeps falling asleep in the chair next to my bed.