Chapter 5 The Devil’s Diagnosis
The tension on the balcony had ended not with a bang, but with a chilling promise. Silvio hadn't killed Dante not yet but the way he had dragged me back into the mansion made it clear I was no longer just a guest. I was a prisoner under high watch.
The next morning, the world didn't stop spinning. In fact, it spun faster. I was doubled over the porcelain throne in my ensuite for the third time when a sharp knock echoed through the bedroom.
"Lisa. Open the door."
It wasn't a request. Silvio’s voice was like gravel under a boot.
I wiped my face, rinsed my mouth, and pulled my silk robe tighter around my shivering frame. When I opened the door, Silvio was standing there with a man in a white lab coat. The man carried a leather medical bag that looked like it had seen too many gunshot wounds.
"You’ve been 'ill' since the moment you stepped into my house," Silvio said, his eyes narrowing as they searched my pale face. "I don’t like mysteries, and I don't like fragile things. Dr. Valli is going to find out exactly what is wrong with you."
"I told you, it’s just stress," I said, my voice rising in panic. "I don't need a doctor."
"You don't get to decide what you need," Silvio stepped into the room, his presence overwhelming. "Sit."
I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart drumming a frantic rhythm. Dr. Valli was a man with cold, efficient hands. He checked my pulse, looked into my eyes, and then reached for a blood pressure cuff. Silvio didn't leave. He stood by the window, arms crossed, watching the doctor like a hawk.
"She’s dehydrated," Dr. Valli noted, his voice neutral. "And her blood pressure is low. I’ll need a blood sample to check for any... irregularities."
My breath hitched. A blood test would end everything. The pregnancy, the secret, my life it would all be laid bare on a lab report.
"Silvio," I said, my voice softening as I looked at him. I needed to play the only card I had. "Could you give us a moment? I’m not comfortable with you watching this."
Silvio’s expression didn't change, but his eyes flickered. A man like him didn't take orders, but he prided himself on being a gentleman of the dark.
"Five minutes, Valli," Silvio growled. He turned and stepped out, closing the heavy doors behind him.
The moment the latch clicked, I grabbed the doctor’s wrist. His eyes widened behind his spectacles.
"I know who you are," I whispered, the lie tasting like copper in my mouth. "I know you handle the 'private' cleanups for the Morettis. If you tell him I’m pregnant, I’ll tell him you’ve been skimming from the medical supply funds. I saw the ledgers in my father's office."
It was a total bluff. I had never seen a ledger in my life. But the doctor’s hand trembled slightly. In this world, everyone had a secret they were willing to kill for.
"I, I am a man of science, signorina," he stammered.
"Be a man of survival," I countered. "Tell him it’s an iron deficiency. Tell him it’s the stress of the move. If a single word about a baby reaches his ears, I’ll make sure you’re the next person Silvio 'cleans up.'"
The door opened before he could respond. Silvio walked back in, his gaze darting between us. The air was thick enough to choke on.
"Well?" Silvio demanded.
Dr. Valli cleared his throat, the sound soft but carrying the weight of professionalism, as he methodically packed his bag. His movements were deliberate, almost mechanical, yet there was a tension in his shoulders, a subtle unease he couldn’t fully conceal. He avoided my eyes, focusing instead on the papers and vials he neatly arranged, as if meeting my gaze might make him falter.
“It appears,” he began, his voice measured but with a hint of concern slipping through, “that the young lady is suffering from severe anemia, compounded by acute stress, Don Moretti.” He paused briefly, carefully choosing his words. “Her body is reacting, predictably, given the sudden shift in environment and the psychological strain she’s under.”
He looked up momentarily, his eyes glimmering with professional worry. “I will prescribe a regimen of vitamins to help restore her strength, along with a strict diet to stabilize her condition. Rest will also be critical. She must avoid overexertion and extreme stress for the time being.”
Dr. Valli’s tone was calm, but there was an unspoken warning beneath it, an acknowledgment of just how fragile I had become under the weight of this new world. He zipped his bag shut, his eyes flicking toward me one last time before returning to his meticulous packing. “With careful care, she should recover,” he said, though the quiet tension in his voice suggested he feared the challenges that lay ahead were far from over.
Silvio’s gaze stayed on me for a long, agonizing minute. I didn't blink. I couldn't afford to.
"Anemia," Silvio repeated, the word sounding like a threat. "Ensure she eats. If she loses a single pound more, Valli, I’ll find a doctor who knows how to do his job."
The doctor hurried out, leaving me alone with the devil. Silvio walked over to the bed and sat beside me. The mattress dipped under his weight. He reached out, his large, calloused hand cupping the side of my face.
"You're a terrible liar, Lisa," he whispered, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. "But for now, I’ll let you keep your secrets. Just remember everything in this house belongs to me. Including the truth."
He leaned in, his lips ghosting over my forehead in a gesture that felt more like a brand than a kiss. As he walked away, I collapsed back onto the pillows. I had won the battle, but the war was just beginning.
I looked at the jewelry box on my nightstand. Inside, hidden under a false bottom, was the sonogram Dante had slipped into my hand weeks ago.
I wasn't safe. And the more Silvio looked at me with that dark, budding hunger, the more I realized that the "Iron Deficiency" lie wouldn't last another month.