Chapter 7
The implication of Adrian’s question hung in the bright cinematic light like a suspended guillotine blade. To accuse a wife of infidelity was an insult; to orchestrate the swapping or abduction of a Mafia Boss’s newborn heir was an act of war.
"Adrian," Linda whispered, stepping out from behind the maternity bed, her cardigan pulled tightly around her out of a sudden, profound chill. "Adrian, what are you saying? Are you saying she was going to... to take him?"
Emma let out a ragged, agonizing sob from the bed. "My baby. Adrian, she was going to steal my baby!"
Adrian did not break eye contact with his mother. His hands, usually resting casually in his pockets, were now clenched into tight fists at his sides, the heavy family signet ring pressing into his skin.
"Answer the question, Margaret," Adrian commanded, his volume remaining dangerously low, a stark contrast to the screaming and shouting from minutes before. "Why was the clasp cut?"
Margaret swallowed hard, her throat visibly bobbing. The dark, stained water dripped from her pearl necklace. "I... I didn't cut it, Adrian. I swear to you on your father’s grave. I only brought the pigment. I only wanted to make you see that she wasn't worthy of our name!"
"You expect me to believe in coincidences," Adrian murmured, his cold eyes unblinking. "You expect me to believe that you walked into this room to perform a theatrical stunt, and purely by chance, the tamper-proof security band on the heir to the Moretti family had been professionally severed."
"It's the truth!" Margaret pleaded, her American accent pitching into a desperate, high-pitched whine. She looked frantically toward the two bodyguards standing like statues in the doorway, realizing she was entirely trapped. "Someone else must have done it! A nurse! A doctor! You have enemies, Adrian! The hospital is full of people who could have been bribed!"
"And yet, you were the one standing over him," Adrian pointed out slowly.
"I was setting the stage!" Margaret cried, tears of genuine panic finally spilling over her lashes, mixing with the dark pigment on her face. "I wanted to humiliate her! But I would never steal my own grandson! You have to believe me!"
Adrian turned his head slightly, addressing the Charge Nurse without looking at her. "Nurse. Clean my son. Use whatever you need to remove that filth from his skin. Then, do not let him out of your arms. If anyone other than myself or my wife attempts to touch him, you scream."
"Yes, sir," the nurse replied instantly, her professional demeanor returning as she immediately gathered fresh supplies from the medical cart and moved to the bassinet.
Adrian turned his back on his mother and walked over to the maternity bed. The terrifying, intimidating aura of the Mafia Boss softened by a fraction as he looked down at Emma. Her fair, rosy face was streaked with tears, her hospital gown damp with sweat.
He leaned down, placing his large, masculine hands gently on either side of her face. "Emma. Look at me."
She met his gaze, her blue eyes wide with terror.
"No one is taking our son," Adrian promised, his deep, raspy voice incredibly gentle and reassuring. "He is safe. You are safe. I will burn this city to the foundation before I let anyone lay a hand on either of you. Do you understand me?"
Emma nodded weakly, leaning her face into his palm. "I was so scared, Adrian."
"The fear ends now," Adrian whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
May you like
He stood up, the softness vanishing instantly as he turned back to the room. He looked at the two bodyguards in the doorway.
"Lock down the floor," Adrian ordered. "No one enters. No one leaves. And call the capos. We have a rat in the house."
