Chapter 6 - The Woman Who Raised a Monster
The hospital was twenty-three minutes away.
I remember every one of them.
The ambulance sped through narrow Hudson Valley roads while my escort vehicle followed with emergency lights flashing.
I sat in the back seat, staring at the photograph on my phone.
Samuel sat beside me.
He had refused to ride with anyone else.
Every few minutes, he looked at my face and then quickly looked away.
Finally, he spoke.
"Did I do something bad?"
I turned toward him.
"No."
"Then why does everybody get angry when they see me?"
I had no answer that a seven-year-old deserved to hear.
Instead, I placed my phone facedown.
"None of this is because of you."
He pulled the rabbit closer.
"Mommy used to say that."
"Your mother sounds like a good woman."
"She is."
His voice dropped.
"She sings when I'm scared."
I looked out the window.
I thought of my father.
Vittorio Rossi had ruled our family for nearly four decades.
He was a man who could smile through a charity dinner and order a brutal retaliation before dessert.
I loved him.
I feared him.
I had spent most of my adult life trying to become something better than him while still controlling the empire he left behind.
Now I was discovering that he had another son.
A little boy who had been hidden, imprisoned, and threatened inside the very walls my father once called sacred.
My phone rang.
Nico.
"Elena used the south exit."
"Is she alone?"
"Two vehicles were waiting."
"Find them."
"Already tracking the route."
"Don't engage until we know who she has with her."
A pause.
"There's something else."
"Tell me."
"We found the old pumping station."
I sat forward.
"And?"
"A woman's handbag."
Samuel turned toward me.
Nico continued.
"Identification says Lydia Morgan."
I looked at Samuel.
He nodded when I repeated the name.
"My mommy."
"Was there blood?"
Nico hesitated.
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
"Any sign of a body?"
"Not yet."
"Keep searching."
I ended the call.
Samuel watched me.
"Did you find her?"
I couldn't lie to him.
"We found something that belongs to her."
His face brightened.
"Can I see her?"
"We're still looking."
He nodded slowly.
Then he said something I would remember for the rest of my life.
"Mommy told me brave people tell the truth even when they're scared."
I looked at him.
"She was right."
The hospital appeared ahead.
Doctors rushed Grace through the emergency entrance.
I followed until a nurse stopped me at the operating room doors.
"Are you her husband?"
"Yes."
"She's being prepared for an emergency C-section."
I stared at the doors.
"Can I be with her?"
"We're trying to stabilize her first."
"Is my son alive?"
The nurse's expression softened.
"We're doing everything we can."
Those words were meant to comfort me.
They didn't.
I stood outside the operating room with Samuel's small hand in mine.
Behind the doors, machines beeped.
Nurses moved quickly.
Someone called for additional blood.
And for the first time since I became head of the Rossi family, I prayed.
Not for victory.
Not for revenge.
For two heartbeats.
Grace's.
And our son's.
Twenty minutes later, Rebecca emerged.
Her gown was stained.
My entire body went rigid.
"Doctor?"
She pulled down her mask.
"Your son has been delivered."
I couldn't speak.
"He's alive."
My knees weakened.
"But he needs respiratory support and close monitoring."
I swallowed.
"And Grace?"
Rebecca hesitated.
That single pause nearly destroyed me.
"She experienced significant blood loss."
"Is she alive?"
"Yes."
I covered my mouth.
"Can I see her?"
"She's still in surgery."
I looked through the glass doors.
Somewhere beyond them, Grace was fighting to survive.
I had found her.
I had brought her out.
But I hadn't saved her yet.
Rebecca touched my arm.
"Mr. Rossi, there's another matter."
"What?"
"Your wife's medical records show several medications prescribed over the last two months."
I frowned.
"She was on bed rest."
Rebecca shook her head.
"These aren't routine pregnancy medications."
I stared at her.
"What were they?"
"Some appear to have been prescribed without a clear medical indication."
"And?"
"We need to investigate whether they contributed to her condition."
I felt the blood leave my face.
My mother hadn't simply locked Grace away.
She had controlled what entered her body.
Rebecca continued.
"There's one more thing."
I forced myself to listen.
"Someone called the hospital before your wife arrived."
"Who?"
"They identified themselves as her legal medical guardian."
I stared at her.
"What did they want?"
May you like
Rebecca's voice hardened.
"They instructed us not to release the baby to you."
