Page 50 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

My heart stopped.

Instinctively, I fell sideways, hands slamming against the wall. My palm hit with a dull thud, pain shooting through my wrist. But I didn't care, using every ounce of strength to steady myself, pressing against the wall as I slid down, wrist useless. Finally I crumpled to my knees.

Cold sweat covered me, my supporting hand throbbing, but my other hand still protected my stomach as I gasped for air.

I knelt there for several minutes before my heartbeat slowed. Tears fell without me realizing, and when I tried to wipe them away, more came.

Trembling, I stood up. I had nowhere to go, so I just sat down on the stairs.

Was this Valentina's doing? Did she have people in the manor?

I looked around. I'd lived here over a year, knew every corner. But in this familiar place, danger lurked everywhere, impossible to guard against.

Dante's attitude was unclear, Valentina circling like a predator, anyone in the manor could be her spy. I could barelywalk without falling—how could I guarantee I'd safely deliver this baby?

If Salvador were awake, maybe he could help protect this child. But lately, Salvador hadn't regained consciousness at all, kept alive by cold liquids, doctors saying he didn't have long.

I had to leave this place.

Once the thought appeared, I couldn't suppress it.

Chapter Eighteen

Dante

I got word from our guys at the Gulf Corridor. That was the shipping route Salvador mentioned before. I'd beefed up security there, and sure enough, we caught a few rats sniffing around.

After some persuasion, they gave up their boss—Javier Mendez.

The guy worked for Hector Cruz, head of the Cruz family. Had a reputation. Stone-cold killer. Didn't think we'd be crossing paths this soon. But now we had proof. Getting our hands on them was just a matter of time.

They'd learn soon enough whose city this was. You covet what belongs to someone else, you better be ready to pay for it.

Valentina pushed through the door. I snapped the file shut. One look at her face—all helpless and wounded—and I knew she'd struck out.

She dropped into the chair across from my desk. "Dante, I told her everything."

"And?"

"Elena..." Valentina's head dipped, fingers lacing together on the desk. "She didn't believe me. Not completely. I think she sees me as just... covering for you."

I said nothing.

Elena was stubborn as hell. She played obedient, sure, but I knew better. That was just her armor. What happened yesterday—I'd been reckless. If I wanted to fix this, I'd have to face her myself.

Valentina looked up at me, eyes pooling with tears. "Dante, if Elena doesn't want me here, if I'm making things impossible between you two, I can go back to Mexico."

I hadn't suggested anything of the sort. "What are you talking about?"

She wiped at her eyes. "I never should've come back. I just... I missed you so much. But I don't want to make things difficult for you. I can't stand seeing you like this."

I looked at Valentina's wounded expression. She never used to cry this easily. She used to solve her own problems, then crow about hitting some new milestone.

But the woman in front of me—maybe Salvador's people had kept her caged too long. She'd developed this fragile edge.

The guilt crept back in. "You don't have to leave. I'll talk to Elena. You've done enough."

She nodded, eyes swimming with something complicated she couldn't quite say, and left the office. I hit the intercom and called Marco in.