Raffael’s hand tightened around the folder.
“Will she live?”
“She made it through surgery.
The next several hours are critical.”
Daniel released a breath that sounded almost irritated.
The surgeon continued.
“The injury was not spontaneous.
It is consistent with a severe impact.”
Daniel’s posture changed.
Only slightly.
But everyone saw it.
He folded his arms and looked toward the elevator.
“She fell.”
The surgeon had not asked him a question.
Raffael turned his head slowly.
“Where?”
Daniel hesitated.
“At home.”
“You just said she exaggerated her condition.”
“She fell and then exaggerated the pain.”
“Onto what?”
Daniel’s jaw hardened.
“A counter.
I don’t remember.”
Raffael looked at the red mark disappearing beneath Daniel’s cuff.
Vincent followed his gaze.
Daniel pulled his coat closed.
“This interrogation is over,” he snapped.
“I am transferring my wife as soon as she is conscious.”
The surgeon shook his head.
“She will remain here until she is stable and able to participate in her own decisions.”
“I make her medical decisions.”
“Not while she is conscious and competent.”
“She listed me as her spouse.”
“She listed Mr.
Moretti as her emergency contact tonight.”
Daniel looked at Raffael with open hatred.
“She was confused.”
Raffael closed the folder.
“She was dying, and she still knew exactly whom not to call.”
Daniel stepped closer.
For the first time, his polished mask disappeared completely.
“You think this makes you important to her?” he whispered.
“She chose me.
She married me.
You were the mistake she escaped.”
Raffael’s expression remained unreadable.
Daniel mistook restraint for weakness.
“She told me everything about you,” he continued.
“How controlling you were.
How dangerous.
How she wanted a clean life.”
Raffael absorbed every word without reacting.
Then he asked, “Is that why you isolated her?”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
“Her friends stopped hearing from her after the wedding,” Raffael said.
