The Don Let My Son Fall to Save His Mistress

Chapter 2

I was lying down when the call came.

I hung up fast. I shut my eyes. I pretended to be asleep.

Lorenzo came storming in, violence coming off him in waves. But when he got close, he saw my eyes were closed.

A dream. It had just been a dream.

He let out a breath. Something still nagged at him, though. He wouldn't even let me stop loving him in my sleep.

He shook me awake. "Elena. Were you having a nightmare? I heard you say you didn't love anyone. What were you dreaming about? Why are you crying?"

I kept my eyes down. "I dreamed about Marcello. He asked me why we don't love him."

Lorenzo's face broke. He pulled me in hard against him. "Elena. Marcello's death was an accident. It wasn't your fault. Don't do this to yourself."

He paused. "We're still young. We can have more children. As many as you want."

I said nothing. I felt nothing. I couldn't even cry.

Yes, I was young. I could have more children. But so what? My son was dead. A new one wasn't going to bring him back.

I didn't want to get into it. I changed the subject.

"Lorenzo. What do you want? It's late."

His face twitched. "Sofia's got a stomachache. She wants your soup. The one you make for me."

I went still. My leg was in a cast. I was covered in bruises. And he wanted me to make soup for Sofia.

Lorenzo caught what he'd said and backtracked fast. "You don't have to cook. Just give me the recipe. I'll make it."

Lorenzo had a bad stomach. He used to get these terrible cramps. So I'd gone through old medical texts until I found a soup that settled his gut. Every time it acted up, I made it for him.

But I had stomach trouble too, from all those years of studying. Lorenzo never noticed. Eight years of marriage, and he never once cooked for me. Never made me a single meal.

It had always been one-sided. One woman in love. One woman on her own.

I gave a bitter smile. "Get me some paper. I'll write it down."

Lorenzo told his men to bring paper and a pen.

I wrote out the recipe and handed it to him.

His hand shook. I caught the flicker in his eyes.

He'd remembered something. He'd asked me for this recipe once. I'd said, "I'll tell you when we get divorced. Because until then, I'll be right here. I'll make you this soup for the rest of your life."

And now I was handing it over like it was nothing at all.

Something in his chest went tight. But he still believed I'd never leave. He thought I couldn't survive without him.

"Don, Sofia's crying." A nurse appeared in the doorway. "She says her stomach hurts so bad—"

"Then get a doctor!" Lorenzo snapped. "I'm not a pharmacist!"

But even as he shouted it, he was already moving. Already heading upstairs to Sofia.

He always did this. He yelled. He complained. And in the end he always chose Sofia.

I was used to it. I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

I didn't sleep long.

Lorenzo shook me awake and hauled me up out of the bed.

"Elena! Sofia drank my soup. She's coughing up blood. There's poison in your recipe. I know there is."