Chapter 176 LAST ONE.
\~~~LUCIANO.
I resisted for a second, staring through the glass at Raina surrounded by the team, but Alessia's words sank in. Reluctantly, I let her drag me to the waiting area, the doors sealing shut behind us. The hall stretched long and sterile, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I paced immediately, my boots echoing like gunshots, hands raking through my hair.
“How did I let this happen, Allie? How?”
She sat on a plastic chair, pulling me down beside her when I got too frantic.
“You are here now. That is all that matters.”
But it wasn't enough. I punched the wall, my knuckles splitting against the unyielding surface, pain shooting up my arm.
“I should've seen the signs. I should have found her sooner. If she hadn't called... God, would I have even known where she was?”
The what-ifs clawed at me. What if we had been too late?
What if she had bled out alone, and our baby was gone before I arrived? The thought twisted like a knife, tears burning again.
Alessia rubbed my back, her voice steady. “You didn't fail her. Marco and Talia are the ones who did this. You will make them pay, but right now, focus on Raina.”
I nodded, but the guilt festered.
Pacing resumed, and minutes dragged into what felt like eternity.
My mind replayed the rescue, the blood, and her whisper.
Oh, God, please…
Finally, the door opened, and a doctor emerged, scrubbing his hands with a towel. I closed the space in two strides, towering over him.
“I am her husband and guardian,” I said before he could speak, my voice low and edged.
He nodded, expression grave. “Mr. Moretti, your wife is pregnant.”
The world stopped, air thickening in my lungs. “S... she is pregnant?” My voice shook, barely above a whisper.
Hearing it from him sounded more real.
“Yes, but she has lost a significant amount of blood and is hemorrhaging. We are stabilizing her vitals and working to save both her and the baby.”
I gripped the doorframe, my knuckles white. Before I could process, he added, “She appears to be about seven weeks along.”
Seven weeks…
My mind spun.
We had no idea.
There had been no signs, and no changes.
During those weeks, we had fought, separated, and even come back together.
How could we have missed this?
“How could…’' I trailed off, my head spinning.
Alessia patted my back, grounding me. I straightened, nodding numbly as the doctor returned inside.
“I didn't know, Allie. I didn't know she was pregnant,” The dam broke then, tears streaming unchecked for the first time in my life, my body collapsing to the floor in a heap.
Sobs wracked me, raw and ugly.
Alessia knelt, wrapping her arms around me. “Shh, shh, I know. Okay? She didn't know either. No one did.”
“God, I have failed her. I have failed them both. How could I... I should've found her sooner. No, she never should've been taken. This is all my fault. I... I am so…”
“It is not your fault. You didn't fail. She will be fine, and your baby... both of them will be,” She patted my back rhythmically, her own voice thick.
We sat there on the cold tile, time blurring as I poured out the grief, the fear, and the self-loathing.
After what felt like forever, I pushed to my feet, wiping my face.
I fumbled for my phone to call Viktor, needing an update about Marco, but before I could dial, heavy footsteps approached.
Viktor rounded the corner, his face etched with worry, his usual stoic mask cracked.
He didn't say a word at first, just closed the distance and pulled me into a hug.
It was unexpected, not his style at all, the big man wasn't one for displays, but it hit me hard, soothing more than words could. I hugged back, my eyes closing, sniffing against his shoulder.
“I am sorry this had to happen, boss,” he murmured, breaking away but keeping a hand on my arm.
I nodded, my throat tight. “Why are you here? Where's Marco?”
“Gabriel and the others are transporting him safely. He has been given first aid and he is alive. I needed to be here with you.”
Gratitude swelled, silent. He understood without me saying.
Just then, the door creaked open again. The same doctor stepped out, his face drawn.
Tension coiled instantly as my heart lodged in my throat, my fists clenching at my sides. Alessia stood, gripping my hand, while Viktor positioned himself like a shield.
Fear clawed up my spine and every second stretched, the doctor's expression unreadable.
“We managed to stabilize your wife,” he began, and relief flickered, tentatively.
But then, “But we couldn't save the baby. I am sorry.”
I stood still, the words echoing hollow. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into palms, but no pain registered.
Gone.
Our baby, six weeks of life, snuffed out before it even began.
The doctor didn't stop, his tone clinical yet compassionate.
“There are signs your wife was physically assaulted, as bruising is consistent with repeated blows to the abdomen and torso.”
My stomach twisted, bile rising.
“We also found a considerable amount of sedative drugs in her bloodstream.”
“Drugs?”' The word escaped like a growl.
He nodded gravely. “Yes. High levels, likely administered multiple times to keep her compliant. Combined with the trauma, the physical assault, and the blood loss... it was too much for the pregnancy to survive. The sedatives alone can cause complications, but with the beating... the placenta couldn't hold.”
I swayed, Viktor's steadying hand the only thing keeping me upright.
Drugged and beaten. Marco's hands on her, forcing that drug into her, and his kicks landing where our baby grew.
The image burned, rage and grief colliding into something explosive.
“Right now, our priority is your wife,” the doctor continued.
“Her body has been through severe stress, concussion from a head injury, fractured ribs, and internal bruising. We have stopped the bleeding, transfused blood, and she is in recovery. But she will need time, monitoring for infection or further complications. You can see her soon, but prepare yourself as she is very weak.”
I nodded mechanically, words failing. The doctor squeezed my shoulder briefly before heading back in.
Alessia pulled me into another hug, but I barely felt it. Viktor stood silent sentinel, his presence a quiet anchor.
Our baby was gone and erased by violence I should have prevented.
The hall spun, grief settling heavy, but beneath it, a vow hardened, those responsible would suffer.
Every last one.