Page 76 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

That hand—always warm, always solid—felt cold now.

I squeezed it tight. In that touch, that warmth, my nerves finally began to settle.

The heart monitor beeped steadily. The constant tension had left me brittle. Now, with everything finally settled, exhaustion dragged me under. I drifted into sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Elena

Muffled voices drifted to my ears. I opened my eyes slowly and found myself cradled in Dante's arms, lying beside him on a hospital bed—his arm wrapped around me from behind, palm resting on my swollen belly.

Marco and two guys from the company stood nearby, giving Dante a hushed briefing.

"Awake?"

Dante noticed me immediately and raised his hand, cutting them off. His large hand stroked my cheek. "Anything hurt, baby?"

Baby?

My eyes went wide. Marco and the others ducked their heads, biting back smiles. I wanted to crawl under the sheets. "Dante, we have company!"

"You guys, out."

When the door clicked shut, Dante pulled back the covers and looked at me with gentle eyes. "There. They're gone."

I took in his hospital gown, the weariness in his face, the exhaustion. Relief crashed over me—we'd made it. I couldn'thold back anymore. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his chest.

"You scared me to death!"

I'd hit his wound. Dante grunted. "Ah—"

"Are you okay?" I stared at the corner of gauze peeking from his chest, tears spilling over. "This is my fault. I didn't see them coming. You got hurt because of me."

"Elena." Dante wiped my tears away. "Don't blame yourself. Hector came after you because of his beef with me. He just wanted leverage. If anyone should apologize, it's me. I brought this danger into your life."

"No." I shook my head hard, grabbed his hand, and pressed it to my chest. "I don't need your apology. I just need you to get better. My shop's waiting for you. You promised you'd be there with me, remember?"

Dante's mouth curved into a smile. "Of course I'll be there. I'll always be there."

His gaze dropped to my belly. "The baby okay?"

"They're fine." I guided Dante's hand to my stomach. "The doctor checked. They're healthy."

Relief softened Dante's face. He looked up at me. "Can I listen to them?"

Now?

I glanced around. The room was big, empty except for us. Face burning, I unbuttoned my gown and exposed my belly, leaning close to Dante.

Dante turned his head, pressed his ear against my stomach.

"It's still early. You probably won't hear anything." I wrapped my arms around him. "Give it time. When they're bigger, you'll hear them."

But Dante listened carefully, then told me, "I hear them."

I was shocked. "Really?"

"Of course." The Don's confidence never wavered. "They're my child. When they're near me, we connect."