Chapter 2
1703 Words
Bella
I stared at the beautiful stranger standing in front of me.
For a moment, I forgot the bleach-sharp air, the noise, even the ache still lodged in my chest since the restaurant
All I saw was him… this man who’d appeared out of nowhere, saved my daughter’s life, and was now standing in front of me like he had every right to look that good while I was falling apart.
His hand was still on my arm, sending a warm buzz through me, and I quickly stepped out of his hold, averting my eyes so I wasn’t looking at him.
“Thank you,” I managed to say in a shaky whisper. “For acting so quickly. I don’t know what would have happened if…”
He studied me quietly, then nodded. “She’s fine now. The doctors said her breathing’s stable.”
Relief nearly buckled my knees. “Thank God.”
“You should sit,” he said softly, guiding me toward the hallway bench. The faint trace of rain clung to him, and his voice was calm in the way that steadied storms.
He held my shoulders again, steadying me with those deep, blue eyes that held so many stories and so much meaning.
I forced a breath. “You really didn’t have to go through all that trouble, you know. I appreciate you jumping to help me take her here, but waiting around…”
He shook his head. “It’s no trouble. I don’t think saving a child and ensuring she’s okay counts as doing too much.”
His tone wasn’t proud. It was grounded, like it was simply the obvious thing to do.
“Still,” I said softly, “Thank you. The least I can do is repay you for—”
“For what?” he interrupted gently. “Helping you get your daughter to the hospital?”
“I just…” I caught myself, realizing how small I sounded, and cleared my throat. “I appreciate it. People don’t usually go out of their way for strangers.”
He gave a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe I didn’t see you as one.”
Something about the way he said it made my pulse stumble.
“Do we know each other?” I asked as I tried to tell if I’ve seen him before. I didn’t think I had. I would’ve remembered.
“Not yet,” he said, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “But I know who you are.”
I frowned, a hint of defensiveness rising. “And who exactly am I?”
Was he one of Diego’s friends? That watch and suit screamed money.
“Bella Forbes,” he said quietly. “Michael Forbes’s daughter.”
My breath hitched. I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t… that.
“I’m sorry what? You know my father?” I shook my head, as if it would help unscramble my thoughts. “Who are you?
“I’m Miro DeLuca.” He studied my face for a moment before speaking again. “Michael was my step-father. By marriage.”
For a second, I thought I misheard him.
“But-but…” I stared at him, words caught somewhere between disbelief and grief. “That’s impossible. My father never remarried.”
“He did,” he said softly. “Five years ago. My mother and I lived with him for a while.”
I blinked hard, trying to process. “I… didn’t know.”
“I figured,” he murmured. “He said you hadn’t spoken since your wedding.”
A sharp ache spread through my chest. The sting in his voice was almost unnoticeable, but I heard it.
My throat went dry. “We had our differences.”
“That’s one way to put it.” He glanced toward the waiting room window.
Silence hung between us, heavy and unspoken. I felt the burden of years pressing down—the arguments, the slammed doors, the words I could never take back. There were times, especially after Lucia was born and my marriage started going downhill, that I wanted to reach out to him. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t face him after everything I said to him… did to him.
Miro’s expression softened, maybe after seeing the guilt on my face.
“He talked about you all the time. He missed you,” he said softly.
I turned away, blinking fast to keep my eyes clear. “Don’t. Please.”
“He did,” he insisted. “He tried reaching you, you know? When calls failed, he tried letters, emails, and even sent someone to your old address. He wanted to fix things before…”
He didn’t finish, and a part of me didn’t want him to.
“Before what?” I asked.
Miro met my eyes. “Before he passed. Last month.”
The words hit like a punch. I literally felt the air leaving my body at those simple words.
My father. He… no.
No. Not like this. Not now. Not while he thought I didn’t want to be around him. Not when I wanted him to meet Lucia, and probably rebuild even a small part of my relationship with him.
The tears flowed freely, and I didn’t even notice them until a drop slid against my lips, and I tasted the salty warmth of fresh tears.
“He wanted you to know,” Miro continued. “And he left you the Pinehill property. He said you’d understand what that meant when the time came.”
I shook my head, barely breathing. “I can’t— I don’t deserve it.”
“You don’t have to do anything right now,” he said. “He just wanted you to have it.”
Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away. “I told him once that I’d never go back.”
Miro’s gaze was steady, not accusing. “He forgave you a long time ago.”
Before I could answer, the door burst open.
Before Miro could respond, a familiar voice echoed down the corridor. “Where’s my daughter?”
Diego.
My entire body went rigid. He strolled in, reeking of cologne and impatience, his tie loose and shirt half-tucked. He wore that ‘fatherly’ expression like he gave a s**t about Lucia.
“You didn’t think to call me?” he demanded, and my head pounded harder at just the very sound of his stupid voice.
I turned slowly. “I did. Several times.”
His eyes landed on Miro and his façade faltered.
I saw the short appraisal. I saw the way his eyes swept over Diego, drawing the same conclusion I had moments ago. This was man loaded.
And Diego didn’t like that.
“Well, well. That was fast,” he said with mock amusement. “Didn’t think you’d replace me before the ink on our divorce papers dried.”
“Watch your mouth, Diego,” I snapped, rising to my feet. “He’s the reason your daughter is alive.”
“Really?” Diego crossed his arms, gaze flicking between us. “Funny, because it looks like Lucia has nothing to do with the little moment you two were having just now.”
I scoffed. Was he being serious? This prick could not seriously be jealous right now!
“You’re her husband?” Miro asked, almost bored.
“Still am,” Diego said as his eyes blazed. “Though she thinks she can just replace me.”
Miro’s tone was level. “No one’s replacing anyone. But if you cared half as much as you claim, you’d stop making her bleed for your mistakes.”
“Excuse me?” Diego snapped.
I stepped between them before the air could get any thicker. “Enough. Diego, what are you even doing here? You were supposed to be at our daughter’s birthday dinner, remember? Or did Sofia keep you too busy for that?”
“I was at a meeting with a client, Bella,” he hissed, evidently triggered. “You’d know that if you’d agreed to come with me instead of throwing one of your childish tantrums.”
I scoffed. “A client? At La Magnifique? With wine and candlelight? You really think I’m that stupid?”
“You were always dramatic,” he shot back. “It was business. Sofia’s family owns half the suppliers we need for next quarter’s expansion. I spent a fortune to please her because you refused to show up and make me look like a decent husband.”
“Decent?” I laughed bitterly. “Am I just a bargaining chip for you?”
His face looked even more ferocious. “Isn’t this what you should help me with as my wife?”
At that moment, I really hoped that his ugly face would disappear from my sight. For some reason, I never told him my true identity during all these years of marriage.
He’s rich, yes, but not even a fraction of my father’s wealth. I always felt I couldn’t find the right opportunity. But now I’m incredibly grateful that he knew nothing, otherwise I wouldn’t have seen his true face.
“You broke the one rule we agreed on! To keep our separation private until Lucia was ready! You humiliated me again and hurt your daughter again, you egoistic, narcissistic asshole! You’re the reason she had another asthma attack!”
Something akin to sorrow flashed in his eyes for a quarter second, before his big ass pride took over.
“You think I don’t see what you’re doing? Acting innocent while some rich stranger plays hero for you?” he hissed, stepping closer.
Something in his tone made Miro shift slightly, his calm composure darkening.
“Careful.”
Diego’s eyes narrowed. “And who exactly are you to her?”
“No one you need to worry about.” I said it deliberately, because I knew it would cut him deep.
His jaw clenched so tight I could almost hear it c***k.
“Unbelievable,” Diego muttered.
Before I could respond, a small voice broke through the tension.
“Mommy?”
I froze.
Lucia was awake.
- Writer
