Chapter 148 Self defense

Chapter 148 Self defense
MATEO'S POV

I sat in the car like a ghost.

The engine was off. The parking lot of the hospital was quiet under the midday sun, but inside my head it was a warzone. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my bruised knuckles screamed in protest. Blood - Rafiq's blood - was dried under my nails, smeared across my forearms, and soaked into the collar of my shirt. I could still feel the impact of every punch, the way his face had given way beneath my fists.

Sweat rolled down my back. My chest felt too tight. Shame, regret, and raw fear churned inside me like poison.

What the fuck have I done?

Flashback hit me like a sledgehammer.

Hours ago ago, near the grand foyer, I had cornered Rafiq and asked him directly: "Who is Lucian's real father?"

He had been with my family for years! Worked for my father and now for me. More than 15 years of trust off the rocker.

The way Rafiq had laughed - that low, mocking laugh that always made my skin crawl. "You really want to know? Or you just want to hear me say it?"

That damn smug look on his face.

I had told him coldly, "Lucian will always see me as his father. Not a backstabbing piece of shit like you."

That was when Rafiq had attacked first. Blind rage had taken over. I remembered the sound of flesh hitting flesh. If Isabella hadn't come back home when she did, I might have killed him that day. I might be in a cell right now instead of sitting here covered in his blood.

Or maybe it would just be swept under with money.

What if she hadn't shown up this morning? What if I had kept beating him until there was nothing left? What kind of man would I be then? What kind of father? What kind of husband? Lucian won't even forgive me for killing his biological father.

A knock on the car window made me flinch violently.

My mother stood outside, looking through the tinted glass with sharp, worried eyes. I didn't move. I couldn't. She knocked again, harder.

When I still didn't respond, she stepped back, removed one of her expensive heels, and smashed it against the window with surprising force. The glass cracked.

I unlocked the door immediately.

She yanked it open and stared at me - at the blood on my face, my hands, my clothes. Without a word, she reached in and cupped my face with both hands. Her grip was firm, almost painful.

"Rafiq is being arrested," she said quietly.

I let out a bitter laugh. "I beat the crap out of him and you arrested him?"

"It was self-defense," she replied smoothly.

"Really, Mom?" I snapped, gesturing to my blood-soaked appearance. "Does he look like he was attacking me or I was defending myself?"

She leaned closer, eyes hard. "He had a gun on him - for 'security purposes,' right?" I nodded weakly. "You thought he was reaching for it. Besides, he shoved Elena and gave her a concussion. He put Lucian in a chokehold. Believe me, son - it was self-defense. Or I will slap the story into your dumb head myself."

Her voice was ice-cold, pure Rossi steel. I avoided her gaze and nodded.

She pulled me out of the car. "Isabella is perfectly fine. The baby is safe. Lucian is sleeping it off. Go see her."

I shook my head, shame burning through me so fiercely I wanted to vanish. "I can't. Not like this."

My mother grabbed my chin hard, nails digging in. She forced me to look at her.

"You are my son," she said fiercely. "Go see Isabella now. I will not let you lose her too." Her voice softened just a fraction. "She's in Wing 3C. VIP Ruby room."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a clean surgical gown. She glared at me until I stopped resisting, then helped me put it on over my bloody clothes. Next, she handed me warm wipes and watched like a hawk as I cleaned every visible drop of blood from my face, neck, and hands. My bruised knuckles still looked bad, but at least I didn't look like a murderer anymore.

Like a zombie, I began walking toward the entrance.

Every step felt heavier. Shame wrapped around me like chains. What would Isabella see when she looked at me? A monster? An attempted murderer? A man who lost control so completely that he almost killed someone in front of their son?

My mother's voice came from behind me like she just materialized from thin air. "What are you doing? Keep moving."

I gave her a shaky, nervous smile and kept walking.

I reached the door of Wing 3C and paused, heart hammering. Through the small window I could see Lucian asleep on the couch, head resting near Isabella's bed. She was on the phone, smiling faintly.

I slowly pushed the door open.

Olga's voice carried through the speaker. "Please no more stress, babe, or I'm coming there to kick your ass. No more climbing stairs. Use the damn elevator or hire someone to carry your lazy pregnant ass."

Isabella laughed softly. "I promise."

She noticed me and said quickly, "Olga, I'll call you back."

The room was quiet except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. Another bed sat empty on the side for visitors. A single couch held Lucian's sleeping form. A wheelchair stood in the corner. The monitors showed her heartbeat - strong and steady. The IV line was still in her arm.

I stood frozen in the doorway, now wearing the surgical gown over my bloodstained clothes. My hands trembled at my sides. I knew I looked like a monster. Bruised knuckles. Guilt written all over my face.

Isabella looked at me for a long moment, then said gently, "Come here."

I couldn't speak. My voice had abandoned me. For the first time in my life, I wanted to run. But my mother was right outside, and I owed Isabella everything.

I walked to her slowly.

She reached out and took my hand, pulling it gently to rest on her belly. Her eyes met mine - soft, tired, but full of love. I knew it was her way of telling me that all was well.

"Would you like to rest with me?" she asked quietly.

I nodded, unable to form words. I grabbed the wheelchair, positioned it beside her bed, and carefully lowered myself into it. Following her guidance, I laid my head on the edge of the mattress, one hand still on her belly. She stroked my hair gently with her free hand.

The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the silence.

I closed my eyes, listening to her heartbeat.

Tears slipped down my cheeks onto the sheet. I didn't deserve this mercy. But I clung to it anyway.