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Cassius glares up the corridor. “That doctor better not be asking Chiara about our relationship. She needs peace and quiet while she’s carrying our baby.”
The back of my neck is prickling. Leaving Chiara alone with a strange man for even a second doesn’t sit right with me. I go over and stand by Cassius and peer up the hallway with him. Whereisthat doctor?
“You know what? Fuck this.”
I stalk down the corridor after Chiara and the obstetrician. A nurse passes me and stares at my bare arms and tattoos. I guess I’m not the usual sort of father she sees in this fancy place. I round on her with a snarl. “Where’s Chiara?”
“I don’t…” she begins, backing off with wide, scared eyes.
“I’ll find her myself.”
“No, you can’t—”
I push past her. Don’t fucking tell me can’t. I’ll find my woman if I damn well want to. The first door I rip open, the room beyond is empty. As I close it, someone emerges from another door at the other end of the corridor. He’s dressed like a doctor but something about the way he’s keeping his face averted doesn’t sit right.
“Hey.”
I take long strides toward him, and he speeds up.
“Hey.” I break into a run, and so does he. I’m torn between giving chase and finding my woman, but only for a second.
I need Chiara. Now.
I slam open the door the stranger emerged through and glance around. It’s not a very big exam room and the far wall is concealed by a privacy curtain.
“Chiara?”
My heart pounds in my chest as I hear dead fucking silence from behind that curtain.
I lunge forward, bracing for the sight of blood. For shattered dreams and horror. I can see it in my mind’s eye, a lurid composite of everything the Black Orchid Killer did to our sisters, only this time he’s done it to Chiara.
When I rip the curtain back, Chiara’s laying on her side and curled into a ball with her arms wrapped around her belly.
And she’s shaking.
Not dead. Relief pours through me, but only for a second.
The baby.
I put my hands on her. “Princess, what’s happened? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”
Please, God, no.
Slowly she unclenches and turns toward me. Her face is chalk white. I can’t see any blood. I touch her belly, her thighs, feeling for wetness, for injuries.
“Lorenzo,” she whispers, her teeth chattering.
“What did he do to you?” I call over my shoulder as the other three come into the room, “There was a dark-haired man dressed as a doctor. I didn’t see his face. Find him.”
Salvatore is closest to the door. “I’ll go after him.”
Cassius casts Chiara a troubled look and follows Salvatore, and I hear their footsteps pounding down the corridor.
“Help me with her,” I say to Vinicius, and we coax Chiara into a sitting position. I peel back one of her eyelids and her pupils look normal.
Chiara takes a deep breath and grasps my shoulder. “I’m okay. He didn’t touch me. He just gave me a shock.”
Thank fucking Christ.
