CHAPTER 26 – Matteo’s Overprotectiveness
1135 Words
The first twenty-four hours after the emergency birth were a blur of exhaustion, pain, and quiet miracles.
Elena drifted in and out of consciousness—weak, pale, barely able to lift her head.
But every time she opened her eyes, Matteo was there.
Holding her hand.
Checking her breathing.
Pressing trembling kisses to her forehead.
And every time she slipped under again, he was still there when she surfaced.
He didn’t sleep.
He didn’t sit.
He didn’t leave her side—not even for a minute.
On the second morning, Elena tried to sit up.
A stab of pain ripped through her abdomen and she winced, falling back against the pillows.
“Easy,” Matteo murmured instantly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“You need to rest.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I need to hold her.”
Matteo hesitated—only a second—but she saw it.
The fear.
The ache.
The memory of almost losing her.
“I’ll bring her,” he said gently. “Just… don’t move too fast.”
He walked to the small heated crib in the corner, moving with a mixture of awe and terror.
Every time he touched his daughter, he looked like he was holding the universe.
He lifted her carefully—tiny, warm, wrapped in soft blankets—and brought her to Elena.
Elena’s eyes filled with tears the moment the baby settled in her arms.
“Oh…” Elena breathed. “She’s so small.”
“She’s strong,” Matteo whispered, sitting beside them. “Like her mother.”
Elena stroked her daughter's cheek with one trembling finger.
Her baby opened her eyes—dark, curious, impossibly innocent.
She inhaled sharply.
“She has your eyes.”
Matteo smiled—raw, emotional—his voice low.
“She has your heart.”
Elena looked up at him…and froze.
Matteo was crying.
Silently.
Tears trailing down his cheeks as he stared at the two people he almost lost.
“Matteo…”
He leaned forward and kissed Elena’s hand.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered. “Both of you.”
Elena pressed her forehead to his.
“But you didn’t,” she whispered back. “We’re here. We’re alive.”
His voice cracked.
“And I will protect you with everything I have.”
By midday, Elena tried to stand. She barely placed one foot on the ground before Matteo reacted like she had been shot.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, grabbing her waist.
“Walking,” she said softly. “I can’t lie in bed forever.”
“Yes,” Matteo said firmly. “You can.”
She gave him a tired glare. “Matteo, I’m not fragile.”
“You lost half your blood,” he argued. “You almost died yesterday.”
Elena reached for the crib steadying herself. “I’m healing.”
“You’re not healed,” he snapped. “You’re still shaking.”
She lifted her chin. “And you haven’t slept in two days.”
Matteo ignored the jab and scooped her effortlessly into his arms. “Matteo—!”
“Argue with me when you’re not fainting,” he said, carrying her back to the bed.
He tucked the blanket around her like she was made of glass. Elena sighed.
“Matteo… you can’t keep me in bed forever.”
“Watch me,” he said darkly.
She rolled her eyes but softened when she saw the fear lingering behind his protectiveness.
“Come here,” she whispered.
He hesitated. Then sat beside her.
She cupped his cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear.
“I’m alive,” she murmured. “Our daughter is alive. You did that.”
Matteo closed his eyes—like her words were the only thing holding him together.
That night, while Matteo finally slept on the chair beside her—exhaustion claiming him like a wave—Elena whispered to Rosa:
“Is he… okay?”
Rosa glanced at him with sadness.
“He has not eaten. Not rested. Not breathed properly since he thought you died in his arms.”
She sighed. “Love can make even the strongest men fragile.”
Elena swallowed hard.
“He saved me,” she whispered. “He saved our daughter.”
“And now he fears the world will take you away again,” Rosa said softly.
“Give him time. He carries too much on his shoulders.”
Elena nodded, her heart aching. But Rosa’s eyes suddenly shifted to the window.
Her brows furrowed. “Elena…” she whispered.
“What is it?”
Rosa moved slowly, peering through the small crack in the wooden shutters.
The forest outside was too still.
Too silent.
As if swallowing sound.
“Something’s wrong,” Rosa whispered. “I can feel it.”
Elena’s stomach tightened. “Is it Matteo?”
“No,” Rosa said quietly, stepping back.
“It’s the world outside.”
Before Elena could ask—
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went out.
The clinic plunged into darkness.
Matteo jolted awake instantly, hand on his gun before his eyes were fully open.
“What happened?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”
Elena held the baby tighter.
Rosa’s voice was tight with fear.
“The power… it’s been cut.”
Matteo froze.
And somewhere outside—
in the suffocating silence—
a twig snapped.
Then another.
Then footsteps.
Many footsteps.
Donatella burst into the clinic, breathless.
“Matteo,” she gasped.
“They found us again.”
Luca appeared behind her, gun raised, voice grave.
“They’re surrounding the cabin.”
Elena’s blood ran cold.
Matteo stood—jaw clenched, eyes deadly, protective fury radiating off him.
He turned to Elena first. “Give me the baby.”
She hesitated. “Matteo—”
“Elena,” he said, voice low, steady, absolute,
“if they break through that door, I’m killing every single one of them before they get close to you.”
He extended his arms. “So please. Give me our daughter.”
Elena gave him the baby—hands trembling.
Matteo pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead.
Then to Elena’s.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“I need both of you to live long enough for me to kill the man who’s hunting us.”
Outside — The forest exploded with shouts.
Matteo clenched his jaw.
“They’re here,” Luca barked.
Elena’s heartbeat thundered.
Matteo passed the baby to Rosa, then grabbed Elena’s face with both hands and kissed her deeply—fiercely—like it could be their last.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Then he turned, gun raised, a demon awakened—as the first bullets hit the walls.
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