Page 118 of The Don's Secret Heir

In his bed. Because I can’t sleep at all in my own.

It’s fucked up.I’mfucked up, and I don’t know how to stop it.

I don’t know how to feel better.

I don’t realize I’m crying until my shoulders start to shake and sobs rip from my throat.

Dario instantly puts his arms around me, leaving the car idling and whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

“It’s okay,” he says, when it’s not. “I’ve got you. I’m here,” he says, when he wasn’t always.

But nevertheless, it calms me down.

When we arrive I wait for him to open my door and then rush toward the house, my throat tightening at every step.

I can breathe again when I’m inside, and I hurry up to my room, getting out of the dress and into one of Dario’s big t-shirts.

I curl up in his bed and he’s gone for a few minutes.

I frown, wanting him there. Wanting him close. It’s the only way I can seem to breathe lately. What does it say about me that the man who broke my heart, who might have killed my father, is the only man I want comfort from?

34

DARIO

I knew that going to dinner was going to be iffy, but I hadn’t known what a disaster it would be. If I had known, I would have kept her inside. Kept her in bed, in my arms where she’s meant to be.

I feel stupid. Of course she’s afraid of leaving. The last time she did, she and her son were kidnapped. Why didn’t I give it more time?

I bring up two glasses of wine to bed, and she takes a glass from me, smiling gratefully.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” she says quietly, looking away from me.

I frown and grab her chin to force her gray eyes to mine.

“Don’t you dare apologize. It was too much, too soon. It’s my fault.”

“I’m fine,” she insists. “You keep rattling around in this house and I know you have work you need to get done.”

“Nothing is more important than you feeling better, Li.”

She bites her lip, looking away again. “I don’t know how to feel better.”

I climb into bed and draw her close to my chest, kissing the top of her head.

“You don’t have to know, baby. Not now. Just rest.”

“If youdohave work to do tomorrow, I’ll be fine here. Marie will be here to help with Sonny and Sofia will cook for me.”

There is something I need to take care of. Something important. Something I've been putting off.

“Are you sure?”

I hate that I’m even asking. I don’t want to be away from her for more than a few minutes, but the world doesn’t stop because my wife is ill.

Unfortunately.

“I’m sure,” she says confidently. “As long as I don’t go outside any further than the pool, I’ll be fine.”