Rosa scowled at her oldest daughter.“Shh.”
Unconcerned, Adriana shrugged. “Two out of three of mine have.”
Which brought them back to…
There was no choice but to drop the news like a bombshell in the silence. Once more holding onto the bedsheets, she said, “Gregorio was working the case with me.”
Silence ricocheted around them as her parents and sister exchanged glances.
On some level maybe she’d been a coward, hoping she’d never have to have this conversation with them. But now there was no choice.
“Gregorio?” her mother asked, perching on the side of the bed while Adriana dropped into a chair. Her father folded his arms.
Adriana narrowed her gaze. “How did he get involved?”
Wishing her stomach wasn’t flip-flopping, she looked at her sister. “I called him.”
“Because?”
“I had a stalker. And I was scared,” she admitted.
“A stalker?” their mother demanded.
Thank God for the interruption.
“So you needed my ex-husband to protect you?” Adriana asked.
Her heart was pounding in her ears. “I didn’t know who else I could trust.” She left the words hanging. Her answer was clear, even though she hadn’t overtly said it.Yes.Gregorio had been the only person she’d trusted to take care of her.
And she’d make the same decision again.
Mr. DiLuce looked between his two children, then he settled on Sasha once more. “And where is Gregorio now?”
Taking a steadying breath, she told them, “Recovering from surgery.”
In Italian, their mother swore and crossed herself. “Surgery?”
For now, she wasn’t mentioning the fact he’d been shot.
“How is he?” Adriana asked.
“Beyond stable, I don’t know.” A knot of emotion threatening to choke her, she swallowed hard and added, “I haven’t been able to see him yet.”
Her eyes narrowing even further, Adriana snapped, “Is that how it is?”
They’d never been able to keep secrets from each other. “Adriana—”
“Don’t, Sash. Just fucking don’t, okay?” She stood and flounced to the door.
“I…” Because she didn’t know what to say, she trailed off. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
She threw a look over her shoulder. “Are you? Are you really? Sorry for hurting me? Or for fucking my ex-husband?”
As if slapped, Sasha recoiled.
“Adriana!” their father scolded.
Maybe she shouldn’t have gone to Gregorio, but at the time, that had been her best—maybe only—option. And once she’d seen him at the Den, she’d been confident she’d made the right decision.