Chapter 53: Chapter 52

Enzo leans against the wall, runs a hand through his hair, and breathes deeply.

"Chloe needs to know. Will you tell her?"

I swallow hard, looking away. "I… I have orders to follow."

"Orders? He told you to keep quiet even now?"

"He said to only tell her if he…," I hesitate, "if he ended up in a coffin."

Enzo snorts, frustrated.

"Great. And when she finds out herself and faints? She’s pregnant, Salvatori. Have you thought about what could happen if she panics?"

I fall silent, watching the doctors move on the other side of the glass.

"This time," Enzo continues, "you should disobey him."

I draw in a deep breath, fists clenched.

"Let's wait a bit…" I murmur. "Let's see if he can pull through first."

The corridor grows quiet, only the sound of the monitors coming from the room fills the air.

An hour drags like an eternity. I pace back and forth in the hall. Enzo sits on one of the benches, hands clasped, eyes fixed on the floor.

The door to the room suddenly opened, and a doctor came out, removing his mask. My heart jumped — for a moment, I even forgot to breathe. He approached, his eyes tired.

"He was very lucky," he said, adjusting his glasses. "If you had arrived a few minutes later... he wouldn’t have survived."

The air I’d been holding escaped all at once, heavy, almost like a choked sigh. My shoulders relaxed, and I ran a hand over my face, trying to hide the wave of relief that took over me.

"Thank you, doctor. Really."

The doctor only nodded slightly and walked away down the corridor, leaving behind a strange silence.

I took a few steps toward the half-open door and looked inside. Dominic was lying on the bed, his face pale, loose strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. The IV dripped slowly, and the monitor beside him marked his heartbeat.

I stood there for a moment, watching that man who had always seemed invincible now so vulnerable, attached to tubes and wires. I swallowed hard.

"I’ll talk to Chloe," I said quietly.

Enzo lifted his tired eyes and nodded. "I’ll stay here… in case they need me."

I was in the kitchen, drinking my coffee when the door opened. Salvatori walked in quickly, his face tense.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, bringing the cup to my lips.

He didn’t answer right away; he just looked at me as if trying to find the right words.

"It’s about Don Moretti."

"What about him? Did he come up with another contract? Let me guess, he’s going to drag me into something again?" I said with disdain.

"No, ma’am..." he swallowed hard. "He’s in the hospital."

My eyebrows shot up on their own. The cup trembled in my hand.

"Hospital? What do you mean, hospital?" I jumped to my feet.

Salvatori shoved his hands into his coat pockets, avoiding my eyes.

"He... set up a plan to kill the man responsible for the kidnapping. Poisoning."

The air left my lungs for a second. I walked past Salvatori, already heading for the car.

"Come on, Salvatori! What are you waiting for?" I shouted as I opened the driver’s door and got in, slamming it shut while starting the car.

He rushed to my window. "Ma’am, it would be better if I drove."

"Get in this car now, or I’ll run you over," I said, pulling on the seatbelt.

He swallowed hard, turned, and grabbed the passenger handle. He jumped in quickly; before he could even close the door, I hit the accelerator.

I flew through the gate like a storm. Cars honked as I changed lanes without hesitation, skimming past a truck — the steering wheel vibrated under my hands. My back hit the seat with every curve, and my heart pounded against my ribs.

Salvatori tried to grab his phone, but I pushed his arm with my elbow. "No calls. Just tell me where."

"Central Hospital, east wing," he gasped.

The city became a blur. A pedestrian shouted and jumped back as I sped around the corner.

"Mrs. Moretti, you’re going to kill us both at this rate..."

"Quiet."

I ran the red light, the tires screeching as I took the roundabout.

When I finally braked hard in front of the hospital, my chest burned. I got out before even turning off the engine, my legs shaking. Salvatori was already beside me, pulling the door open.

Without waiting for him, I walked into the hospital. The automatic doors opened with a hiss, and the strong smell of disinfectant made me nauseous. I ran down the halls, the sound of my heels echoing against the polished floor.

I stopped in front of the counter and faced the nurse.

"Dominic Moretti... where is he?" My voice came out trembling, almost a growl.

She blinked, startled, and pointed toward the end of the corridor.

"Room 213."

I didn’t wait for her to finish. I murmured a quick thank you and ran. When I reached the door, I hesitated. I took a deep breath before pushing the handle.

And there he was.

Lying down, his arm hooked to an IV, machines scattered around. The monitor beeped at a steady rhythm. He looked... too pale. Almost unrecognizable. It was strange to see someone so used to being in control look so fragile.

I walked in slowly, my throat tightening. My eyes began to water, but it wasn’t just sadness — it was anger, despair, fear.

Dominic opened his eyes slowly. When he saw me, a weak smile formed, and that only made it worse.

"You... idiot..." My voice broke. "What were you thinking, huh? Trying to kill yourself? You want to die and leave me alone?"